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jaegersdevil · 1 day

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you know how to ball (i know aristotle) [sukuna x fem!reader]

summary: college!au where sukuna is the star rugby player, and reader plays in college quiz bowls. w/c: 3k cw: inaccurate quiz bowl rep (i only play jeopardy on tv ok pls ignore the actual content and focus on the point of the fic ok ty), a lot of allusions to suggestive content, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'girl', and wears a skirt. a/n: i i i idk what u were expecting, but it should've been another taylor fic hehe

"Sukuna! Sir!" You turn your head toward the voice. The man beside you huffs deeply but turns anyway, apologising softly.

"Hey, man," Sukuna mumbles, shaking the hand of the Freshman student who's panting like he ran three miles (he probably did). "What's up?"

The kid eyes you up and down like he's never seen a woman before.

"Eyes up here, bro," Your boyfriend bites, giving him a fake smile. The kid nods quickly, gaze avoiding you at all costs.

"Uh–" He stutters. "Gojo was wondering when you were gonna show up to training."

Sukuna pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek. "Tell the freak I'll be there after I walk my girl to her car, okay?"

The kid nods and turns, speed-walking in the direction of the field.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around your head, bringing you into his chest. You giggle at the sudden affection and continue walking to the car park.

"Fucking kids."

"He’s eighteen, Kuna," You laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I had more decency when I was that age..."

Scoffing, you lean back. "You're joking, right?"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow as you descend the steps. "Watch it."

You snicker and pull away from him, digging around in your bag for your car keys. When you spot the miniature stuffed bunny keychain, you grab it.

You can feel Sukuna side-eying you when you unlock the car. "What?"

He points at the keychain. "Is that the little cat thing you begged me for?"

You don't answer, knowing he knows exactly what it is. "Jellycat."

"Huh?" Sukuna's face scrunches up in confusion.

"Jellycat is the brand. And, yes, it's the one you got me. Don't act stupid, idiot."

Sukuna smirks. "I'll buy you more of them if you keep talking to me like that."

Your jaw drops, and you laugh, slapping him on the bicep. "Fuck off."

But before you can open the car door, Sukuna spins you around by the shoulders and presses you into the side of the car, hands roaming under your hoodie.

"I'll see you tonight," He whispers, lips slanting over yours hotly.

"Mmhm," You hum, running your fingers through his hair. Pulling away, Sukuna continues to press sloppy kisses along your jaw. "Be good at practice. Don't spear tackle Gojo again."

Sukuna scoffs. "That was an accident."

Rolling your eyes, you press your hand to his hard chest. "Yeah, ok."

"Bye, baby," Sukuna's hands slide down to squeeze your ass, and you look at the campus entrance to ensure nobody's there.

"Bye, yourself."

He gives you one last slap on the ass, and then he's stalking away, glancing over his shoulder to check on you as you slam the car door closed and turn the engine on.

Entering Shoko's apartment, the smell of burnt toast hits you in the face. You toe your sneakers off at the door and walk toward the cacophony of voices.

"Sorry!" Choso exclaims in the kitchen, wafting the smoke away with his hands. "Not my fault your toaster is fucked."

Shoko gasps and hits him with a teatowel on the leg. She points at him. "Don't talk shit about my appliances when you ruined all of yours!"

You step into the space, drawing the eyes of the three in conversation, and Nanami and Utahime sitting at the dining table with textbooks scattered around them.

"Thank god you're here!" Shoko laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Studying going good?" You giggle, waving at the others.

Shoko glares at Choso over her shoulder. "It was."

Choso throws his hands up in defence, and Shoko turns back to you.

"How's Mr Rugby Player?" She grins.

You smile softly. "He's good."

"Being as annoying as ever, I suppose?" Nanami's voice calls, not looking up from where he scribbles down his notes.

Utahime scoffs, placing her pen down on the table. "Not as annoying as Gojo."

"Yeah, okay. Don't say his name; you'll summon him."

Rolling your eyes with a laugh, you walk into the dining room. You take your bag off your shoulder and put it on the table to remove your laptop. "What topics are we doing this weekend?"

Utahime points at the list of past regional questions. "I'm doing philosophy and fine arts, Nanami's math, and you're literature."

"Okay," you sit at the head of the table. "Choso, history?"

Nanami nods without looking up. "And Sho is doing science, like always."

"Sweet," You mumble before your phone buzzes.

baby 5:23 pm morning practice got cancelled 5:23 pm so coming to your nerd fest tmr

Despite his teasing, you feel the wings of butterflies flutter inside your stomach.

5:24 pm !!!!! 5:24 pm can't wait to see my himbo of a bf in a crowd of nerds!!!

You can almost see him rolling his eyes.

baby 5:25 pm call me that again and you'll be using crutches at your comp

"Quit texting," Shoko says, shuffling her flash cards. "We don't want a repeat of last time."

With your warm cheeks, you lock your phone and toss it into your bag. "Sorry."

"I'm not nervous," You mumble, checking the fit of your skirt in the mirror for the ninth time in ten minutes.

"Yeah, you're perfectly calm," Sukuna grumbles in his pillow. He lays half-naked under the duvet, his voice the only sign of life.

You glare at him through the mirror and glance at the clock on the wall—7:45 am.

You inhale sharply and duck into the closet to grab your bag. "I'm going."

Sukuna groans, shifting slightly under the blankets. "Kiss."

Despite his usually cold exterior, Sukuna is always soft around you—something you created.

Rounding the bed, you lean over to kiss his mouth, scratching his scalp with your fingers. A deep, raspy groan sounds from the back of his throat, and you have to pull away before he pulls you onto the bed.

"Starts at ten," You remind him, lips hovering over his forehead. "Be there at quarter to."

Sukuna hums, turning over. "Be the best."

"I'll try," You laugh, shoving your feet into your shoes. "Bye!"

"He's here," Nanami rolls his eyes, pointing toward the crowd. Your eyes widen, and you give your friend a side hug.

You weave your way to the hall entrance, small 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' leaving your lips. And when you hear your name, you push yourself up on your tiptoes. A head of pink hair stands out against the rest, and you notice he's surrounded by two other giant guys, too.

"Hey," Sukuna mumbles in your hair when you run into him. You grin into his chest and look up at him.

"Hi."

"Baby," He says, voice louder as he pushes you back. "You gotta get up there."

"I know," You sigh, greeting Negi and Miguel with a wave.

"Good luck," Miguel smiles, and Negi laughs. "We'll be cheering you on."

"Thanks, guys," You nod, feeling Sukuna's hands smooth out the collar of your blouse.

Sukuna shakes his head, ignoring his teammates. "You're gonna do so good."

"I hope so," You sigh, hearing the warning bell before the start of the tournament.

"Love you," Sukuna grumbles, kissing your head. You pull away.

"Love you!" Laughing, you walk backwards toward the stage.

"Give the scientific name for Vitamin K1."

Shoko's thumb moves too fast for your eyes to see before she answers. "Phylloquinone."

"Correct." Multiple claps from the crowd make your stomach turn.

The score is 455–460, with the opposing university in front. You wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, listening to Nanami answer a question.

"Solve this equation for x. 5x=0.2."

His answer is instant. "0.04."

"Right." The host nods, eyes trained on the cards in his hands.

You look to your left, seeing Choso's determined face despite his anxiety about public speaking. It makes you happy to see his confidence grow.

"Who wrote 'Hope is the Thing with Feathers'?"

A brunette answers. "Emily Dickinson."

Your head shoots up in shock. Shoko's hand finds yours under the table while you cringe at losing your question and points for your team.

"Yes!" The host swiftly moves on. "Cogito ergo sum means, "I think. Therefore, I am." By creating this statement, what did Descartes argue?"

Utahime tilts her head as if the answer is the easiest of the day. "That the mind and body are separate entities, with the mind being the essential nature of a person."

"Correct."

You inhale deeply, trying your best to ignore the score. Instead, you squint into the stage light to spot your boyfriend. To no avail, you wipe your eyebrow.

"Believed the rational mind repressed the power of the imagination, weighing it down with taboos; which art movement channelled the unconscious to unlock the power of the imagination?"

"Surrealism," A blonde boy on the other table answered.

"Right. When did the three major shogunates (Kamakura, Ashikaga, Tokugawa) lead Japan?"

Choso nearly falls off his chair when he presses his buzzer. "1192 until 1868."

"Yes," The host re-shuffles his cards and places them on the podium before him. "Last question."

475–475.

"Name the novel: Raskolnikov kills Alyona Ivanovna (a pawnbroker), believing the good he does with her money outweighs the evil of murder."

And before you can press your buzzer, the other university's buzzer sounds first. Your heart drops, and your entire body goes hot with disappointment.

"The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoyevsky."

"Incorrect."

Your thumb presses the button before your mind can catch up.

"You have ten seconds to answer."

"Crime and Punishment, by Dostoyevsky,” You spit out confidently.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The host grins, turning away from you and to the crowd. "Your 2024 Collegiate Quiz Bowl Champions."

And then the score changes. 475-480.

Cheers from the crowd and your teammates make you jump up. "Holy shit."

"We won!" Shoko yells, circling her arms around your shoulders and jumping. You jostle around as she does so, your face breaking out into a smile, and then a laugh slips from your lips.

Utahime crashes into your back. "Ah!"

You, Shoko, and Utahime hug each other, opening your arms for the boys to join.

And though the room is noisy, the loudest cheers come from the pink-haired man at the back of the room, his two teammates lifting him in celebration.

“Baby, what the fuck!” You hear your boyfriend yell. People around him give him dirty looks, but Sukuna pays them no mind. You, however, feel heat creep down your neck at the unwanted attention.

“Kuna,” You giggle, waving your hand down as a way of saying ‘lower the volume’. You meet him in the foyer of the concert hall.

“I can’t!” He laughs, almost howling. “You’re so incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise makes your cheeks flame, and when Sukuna grabs your face to kiss you, he smirks. But he doesn’t comment. Instead, he places the sloppiest kiss on your lips, and you squeal at the feeling, laughing into his mouth.

Sukuna leans back, brushing hair out of your face. “My smart cookie.”

You roll your eyes and grab his hand. “Let’s go. You need to get ready.”

You pull on jeans and a long-sleeve shirt as Sukuna scarfs down rice and chicken in the kitchen. Sukuna’s rugby game is at 5pm, leaving you 2 hours to get ready and drive him to the field. You’re meeting Shoko there – she wants to see Gojo & Geto play.

Fixing your hair, Sukuna walks into the bathroom.

Whistling, he stands behind you, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "My girl is so fine."

You purse your lips and shake your head, tying the last bow in your hair.

"My girl..." Sukuna bends down to kiss your neck. "Has such a sexy brain."

You snicker and push him off. "Go get dressed, freak."

Sukuna imitates you softly, pulls away and then gets his rugby kit on with a pout.

The popcorn box is hot in your lap as you dive your hand into the matcha-flavoured kernels once again. You and Shoko sit huddled in the stand, clad in blue scarves. You opted for Sukuna’s training jersey over your long-sleeved top without his knowledge, making Shoko tease you relentlessly.

“But you’re you, and he’s him.”

You nod to her rant, ignoring her, staring straight at your snack as you pick the next piece to eat.

“There they are,” Shoko draws you from your daze as she points out Gojo running out of the dressing rooms below. The bright blue uniforms are hard to miss, especially against the green grass. You fidget with your necklace as you watch the rest of the team empty out of the dressing rooms, Sukuna being the last one to exit.

The sight of him in his tight jersey has you verbally reacting. “Holy fuck.”

“Settle down, girl,” Shoko laughs. “Not like it’s your first time.”

You giggle, making note of how big his arms are. Sukuna shakes said large arms and rolls his head in a circle before leaning forward, his hands clutching the hem of his jersey. He glances over at Miguel, who plays in the halves and nods once at him.

After kick-off, in favour of the other team, Sukuna runs forward, tackling the fullback of the other team who caught the ball. The ball slips out of the guy’s arms, and Geto swipes it from the grass. He sprints up the field, dodging and weaving in and out of players, and makes the final steps towards the in-goal.

Shoko shakes your arm as Geto dives onto the grass, the ball dragging along as he scores, and then you’re both jumping up and down in celebration. Your cheers are so loud they travel to the field, and Sukuna looks up toward you. He smirks, accepting a bro-hug from Geto, who praises his tackle.

The game goes on like this until half-time, with the other team scoring twice. Sukuna is exhausted as he walks off the field, his jersey clinging to his body with sweat. He peeks at where you were sitting only a few minutes prior and sees you gone. He draws his eyebrows together and runs his hand through his hair.

His teammates funnel around him towards the dressing room, but Sukuna stands looking for you.

“Kuna!” You and Shoko are waving from the bottom of the stands, giant smiles on your faces. Your boyfriend shakes his head, laughs briefly, and jogs over to the two of you.

“You’re doing so good!” You exclaim, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his waist. His free arm circles your shoulders, and he nods at Shoko.

“Good job this morning,” He comments.

Shoko furrows her eyebrows and scoffs at the out of character compliment. “Seriously? Thanks?”

Laughing, you pull away from Sukuna and take in the sight before you, wishing you could capture this moment with your eyes. His face is flush, and his hair is sticking in every direction, the pink darkened to a burgundy. Your mind wanders to a situation far different and more sensual than the one you’re in currently, and you feel your cheeks warm up.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Sukuna whispers, noticing the jersey you're wearing. His pearly white teeth gleam at you, and then he jogs away. Your eyes follow him, gaze trailing down his body until you stop at his ass. He looks so damn good in those rugby shorts.

“Quit objectifying him,” Shoko teases, poking your warm cheek. "We're better than that."

You slap her hand away, eyes watering from the cold air. “Shut the fuck up.”

The second half starts and goes by quicker than the first one. Sukuna finishes the game, scoring three tries in the 40-minute half. They win 42-12.

“Kuna, I don’t think you understand how good you are,” You ramble on the way back to the car after Sukuna showered and got into sweats. His fingers are laced with yours, and he doesn’t care when you swing them around. "A hattrick? C'mon!"

“Oh, save the praise for the bedroom, please,” Shoko pleads, a disgusted look on her face. “And everything else, god!”

Sukuna has an insult on the tip of his tongue, but you pinch his stomach, eyes narrowing at him. “No.”

He huffs and mumbles something intelligible.

“Oh, there’s Gojo and Geto,” Shoko sighs in relief, seeing her best friends lingering around Gojo's BMW. “Bye!”

“See you!”

“Thank you, lord.”

You whack his large bicep and shake your head. “You’re horrible.”

“You’re horrible,” Sukuna replies. “Wearing my jersey and expecting me not to get hard.”

You gape at his outright vulgar statement. “Ok, your speaking privileges have been revoked.”

Sukuna scoffs. “My–”

You reach up and slap your hand over his mouth. “Shhhh.”

And when you get in the car, Sukuna can’t keep his hands to himself. His large hand covers almost the entirety of your thigh, and you have to calm yourself down to drive.

“I feel so high school every time I look at you…”

The streetlights go by in a blur, and the radio plays softly as you two go over everything that happened today.

“I don’t know how you people know questions like that,” Sukuna complains. “How are you that smart?”

You shrug, flicking the indicator down. “Just like how you play rugby.”

“They’re completely different.”

“Well,” You tilt your head. “If I tried to play rugby—” Sukuna’s laugh cuts you off. “You think I could tackle like that? Know one-word plays?”

“I mean, you would look so sexy in those shorts.”

“Not the point,” You glance at him, eyes softening at how he’s staring at you.

“You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“The point is,” You swallow, feeling the callouses on his hands rub your skin. “I’ve got my thing, and you’ve got yours. We’re both good at what we do. There’s no comparing.”

“You know what you wanted, and boy, you got her.”

“I’m just so proud of you, you know that?” Sukuna whispers, his voice barely audible over the song. You nod, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I’m proud of you, too, Kuna. I’m gonna be a WAG forever.”

As you pull into the apartment complex's driveway, the echoes of Sukuna’s deep laughs and your giggles can be heard in the dead of night.

“I’m sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights.”

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seeingivy · 10 months

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method acting (ongoing) ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

actor!eren x actor f!reader

method acting is a very powerful skill. using your own personal, physical, emotional self and pouring it into the character on the screen makes for a powerful performance. except when it's you and eren - you're not sure where the acting starts and real life begins.

read on ao3

the method acting playlist!!

content: actor!au, childhood friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, it was always you trope, fluff, HEAVY ANGST (i'm serious. people were ready to hang me at the stake please be warned), miscommunication (even more sorry), CELEBRITY DRAMA, taylor swift songs and smau at some parts!

triple threat

the ensemble cast

the time of your life

award show etiquette

new year's day

historic wins

the softest kind of love

sick with sadness

the sound of the applause

the met gala

ribbons release

lacy, oh lacy

my love, mine all mine

the third act

it's time to go

funeral

all too well

the new romantics

lovesick

fine line

the beach

speak now

tolerate it

all american bitch

style

better than revenge

sofia

sweet nothing

don't forget me

long story short

extras (method acting fan casts, tracklists etc.):

debut tracklist

lover girl tracklist

ribbons tracklist

the lucky one tracklist

valedictorian tracklist

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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jenscx · 9 months

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UNDERSTAND — kim chaewon x f!reader

kim chaewon, your best friend and the girl you were in love with, was finally getting married. just not to you.

TAGS — angst, unrequited love, best friends, yn against the world, pining, this is so sad, red flag chaewon (Bad best friend!)

WORDCOUNT — 2.1k

the envelope in your trembling hands feel heavy. the closer it came towards you, the further your heart dropped. the simple words adorned across the back started to slowly choke you. a beige card resided inside, a string of words written that crushed your heart as your eyes glazed over the contents.

‘kim chaewon and kim minju requests the pleasure of your company to celebrate their marriage.’

you squeeze your eyes shut, as if this was a mere nightmare, yet the masochist part of you longs to continue reading. maybe somewhere in the invitation, there would be reasons as to why kim fucking chaewon decided to abandon you for someone else. this wasn’t the whole truth of course. you hated it, but chaewon was never the type to leave anyone. it was just difficult for you to accept the cold and harsh reality of the situation.

it was a dangerous game your head was playing, and your heart was like a marionette on strings to your mind. your phone buzzes, distracting you. messages flowing through your inbox, all full of worry by your friends. and hidden in those words of sympathy, there laid one, from chaewon.

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.17am]:

ynnie!

u got the invite?

you considered not replying, yet, the longing feelings for your best friend pushed you to type out a shaky message.

ynnie (^з^) [9.20am]:

yeah.

i’ll check my schedule

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.21am]:

huh

it’s my wedding!! take a day off

pls yn :<

when you don't reply after a minute, your phone rings with the opening of speak now by taylor swift.

“hello?”

“yn, don’t tell me you’re considering not coming to my wedding?” chaewon says, “you’re my best friend, you have to be one of the bridesmaids!”

your throat clenches up. “unnie, i can't just take a day off,” (you totally could, but it was just easier to say that instead of explaining the real reason for your absence), “and being a bridesmaid? i don’t have time for that, i’m sorry.”

and then sharply, chaewon snaps, “you don’t have time for anything.”

“are you seriously saying that?”

“yes, i am seriously saying that. when’s the last time we hung out, huh? probably in high school. you never have time for me anymore. i’m like, some meaningless stranger that you can’t care for!”

her words make your blood boil. because how could she say that? how could she just ignore all the times she brushed you off to go hang out with minju instead?

and why is she making it a big deal when you’ve never done so in the past?

“don’t say that,” you state firmly, “chaewon unnie. the more you try, the less i feel like attending. i have a life outside of high school friend groups—”

“stop calling me that!” chaewon yells.

you push the phone further from your ears, “calling you what?”

“chaewon unnie. why are you changing your nicknames for me? why are you acting like we’re nothing more than just friends?”

“more than just friends?” you ask, confused.

“we’re best friends! so, please stop being so cold and distant! i’ve know you for so long, what happened to ‘chae’ or ‘wonnie’?”

best friends. you fall silent at her words. until, another voice can be heard from chaewon’s side, one that sounds strikingly familiar with the only girl you’ve ever hated in high school.

“chae? are you on a call with someone?” kim minju’s voice shatters your heart.

“yeah, i’ll be done in a bit, maybe like half an hour?”

you make up your mind on the spot.

“chaewon unnie.”

“oh my god, i just told you to not call me—” her voice breaks and you feel a stab of guilt. a sniffle comes through the line and you can hear the frustration in her voice when she asks, “what?”

you clear your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t waver when you say slowly, “i don’t think you know me.”

“what?”

“you said that you know me. i don’t think you do.”

a relented sigh of exasperation.

“y/n, i don’t have time for this. get to the point. i need to finish up wedding stuff.”

you nod forlornly, despite chaewon not being able to see you.

“ok. i’ll end the call now. goodbye.”

“what?! wait—”

a flurry of angry messages come through once you end the call. you can’t help but laugh at the situation (and chaewon’s messages).

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.37am]:

YN ANSWER UR PHONE RN

oh my god URE SO ANNOYING

istg im going to come over.

the first thing that you do after skimming through the continuous train of messages is change chaewon’s name to a simple, ‘kim chaewon’, ridding her contact of any affection.

the second thing that you do is send a message to choi yena. a friend of yours that you met through kim chaewon. maybe if you didn’t exist, choi yena would be chaewon’s best friend.

after the read appears, you hear a knock on your apartment door.

oh shit. you widen your eyes. was chaewon actually here?

cautiously, you look through the peephole, breathing out a sigh of relief when yena’s duck-like face comes into view.

“hey,” you greet after opening the door. yena’s eyes glide over the wedding invitation on your dining table.

“oh,” her smirk widens, “is that why chaewon called me screaming about you?”

you shrug. “maybe.”

“and is that why you sent me a text that you needed help?” you shrug again. “you’re lucky i was just in the neighbourhood.”

“do you not have work today?”

“nah,” yena waves you off, “boss is hyewon, remember? bro barely even comes to work herself.”

you laugh heartily, recalling high school days of when hyewon would always show up to class late, panting, sweating and zero assignments done.

“anyway, chaewon had some things to say about you,” yena turns to you, eyes narrowing, “were you actually thinking about not going to their wedding?”

“maybe. i just said that to piss chaewon off, but i really do have work that day.”

she examines your expression carefully, “and you’re not going to take a day off?” you shake your head, sighing. “if i go, it’ll only make things worse.”

yena nods and you let out a sigh of relief inwardly. she was always so understanding towards your feelings for chaewon, having been the first one to know.

“i… i think you’re making a bad choice here,” yena says after a few seconds, “i understand what you’re feeling but i think chaewon’s hurting too. is distancing yourself for the best for both of you? or only for you?”

you’re taken aback.

“unnie, my heart has been hurting for so long. what else can i do?” right as you blurt those words out, yena’s gaze softens and you dip your head down.

“okay. do what you need to do. unnie will always be here to help you.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears of gratitude.

“thank you.”

“there’s a woman downstairs demanding to meet you,” kazuha, your assistant, says, “pretty tiny, short hair and very cute but angry.”

you tense up, peeking at kazuha through your bangs, “oh.”

“do i let her up?”

you weigh the options. either ignore chaewon and probably ruin your friendship, or let her up and have a huge argument in your office.

“hm, yeah.”

“yes ma’am!” kazuha salutes and exits the room. you sigh, running your hands through your dishevelled hair, papers strewn on your desk.

deciding that it would be best to clean up a bit before chaewon arrives, you try your best to stack up the documents neatly and arrange your attire.

you could hear footsteps approaching; kazuha’s light ones with chaewon’s angry stomps trailing behind.

the door bursts open, revealing your best friend and assistant, their expressions couldn’t have been more different.

“call me when you need me,” kazuha bows and flashes her gummy smile. you shoot a grateful smile back and turn your attention to chaewon.

she’s dressed in a black spaghetti strapped dress and a random jacket thrown on top of her shoulders. you purse your lips, “what are you doing here?”

“i wouldn’t be here if you had just given me a proper response,” chaewon approaches your desk, eyes aflame.

“is this about that? i already told you, i can’t make it. the date is scheduled at the end of december. year ends are always busier for me.”

“you can’t just take one day off for me? not even for my wedding?” chaewon scoffs, “what type of friend are you?”

you freeze, fists clenched and eyes closed.

“i’m sorry that i can’t make it. this job is important to me. i’m sorry that i’m a bad friend, but i can’t live without this job,” you try to explain, the last thing that you wanted was for chaewon to fling something at you.

“so you could live without our friendship?”

“that’s not what i said. i’m saying that this is the one time i need to prioritise something over you.”

chaewon’s eyes light up in surprise, then they narrow. “this isn’t the only time you are doing so. stop lying.”

“and you haven’t either? don’t act like you’re an angel, kim chaewon,” you snap, “you always ditched me to go hang out with minju.”

“why are you always talking about the past? and for the record, i never ditched you!”

you stare at her.

“you forgot my sixteenth birthday. you forgot that i had a competition. you forgot that my mom was in the hospital and i didn’t have anyone else but you. but you never came. so don’t say that you never ditched me. because you did.”

“you aren’t the most important thing in my life. don’t act like any of that matters. i don't care about you that much.”

oh, you think, this is what true heartbreak feels like. your heart clenches painfully and your throat closes up, making you feel suffocated. your eyes are attacked by an onslaught of tears. your best friend, saying that she didn’t truly care about you? even if you were rid of your affections for chaewon, it would have still hurt.

(and you feel like you’re seventeen again, heart crushed and head ringing with chaewon’s chat open on your phone. the day she had met kim minju was the day your world came crashing down.)

chaewon’s eyes are gleaming. you’re reminded of every attribute of hers that makes her so likeable. from her smile, puffy cheeks, silly personality, you find yourself vulnerable.

“i’ve liked you ever since we became friends. even if you don’t fucking care about me. and i’m sorry if me not attending your wedding hurts your feelings. but it doesn’t matter since you don’t care about me right?” you blurt out, as if you were possessed. tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them hastily.

“what? hey, wait, what do you mean you like me?” chaewon asked, eyes widened.

“i like you. i’m in love with you,” you repeat while chaewon gapes at you.

“i… yn,” chaewon takes a step backwards, “i’m getting married.”

“i know. i just wanted to tell you anyway,” you turn away, not wanting to see the look of disgust on her face.

you both don’t say a word. the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows piercing through the silence. you hear your heart tear into two again when chaewon speaks up, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“would you have accepted? would this change anything? you’re still getting married. i just wanted to tell you the truth, so you would just understand.”

before long, the dreaded words finally come.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you can’t believe you hate something about chaewon. the sympathetic look on her face, the way the pitiful words are spoken, you hate it all. a final bittersweet ending to your friendship. it’s finally over. all the yearning, painful pining and nights you’ve spent crying under your blanket. it all led up to this.

“congratulations on your marriage, chae. i hope you and minju stay happy,” you force a smile.

(i will forever love you.)

“thank you, ynnie.”

(thank you for loving me.)

#kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x reader #lesserafim #lesserafim x reader

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

x. what a shame she's fucked in the head.

— the one where they tell you what your word is worth.

❝𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦❞ —𝘛𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵, 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵.

warnings: abuse downplay, bashing towards taylor swift (i obviously adore her pls don't come for me haha), online bullying, new york inaccuracies, corny taylor references per usual, etc. 2k words + articles

in my head there's a mix of begin again and cornelia street playing as background music.

masterlist ✢ next

NO one likes a mad woman, but not for the reasons Taylor Swift made you believe in the lyrics of her 2020 song. Although we are definitely afraid y/n might get 'more crazy'.

Honestly, who gave her the right to speak like that about Aidan Kim? As it turns out, the three-year relationships she willingly stayed on was a 'dead-end' one, and Aidan "abused" (and I cannot stress the quotations enough) her through several stages of their shared time.

Well, I call bullshit.

How is it that after Aidan Kim helped her build whatever she has going on that people call a 'career' she wasn't bothered about being told 'how to look and how to act' (direct quote from her own video, by the way).

Breaking up with your sneaky link and calling him your friend won't save what you did before, y/n, it's the oldes trick in the book. Everything she said in her Youtube video, one I regretfully watched despite the knowledge that I won't get those 45 minutes of my life back, is rehearsed and calculated and just tried to paint the real victims in a bad light.

Playing the victim worked for Taylor Swift in 2009, 2017, 2019... but we surely won't let it happen again, right folks? y/n needs a new tactic to crawl back from the hell, because we're not believing anything that comes out of her mouth anymore.

It's true what they say, an untalented actress makes an untalented liar.

By Lia Yim

Victoria Presley is worried about best friend's y/n y/ln's well-being after the actress 'completely ghosted her' since moving back to New York.

"One day we were fine and the next, she had packed her bags and left my house," Presley said in an exclusive interview with iNTouch. "I'm not going to lie, I was deeply hurt by her actions. I offered her my home as a safe haven and she left without explanation."

y/n had been living in Victorias Los Angeles home since mid-February until this month when she returned to her infamous SoHo apartment, one she shared with Aidan Kim until their breakup.

"I can find it in my heart to forgive her, of course," 'Vic', as she's known on social media, added. "Right now, I just want my best friend back. I want the y/n I've known for years and not this person she became since Matilde Bassi and Charles Leclerc inserted themselves in her life."

Victoria Presley, the founder and CEO of Presley Beauty, is the daughter of Luke Presley and Claire Walker and has been in the influencing business for a few years now.

"If y/n ends up reading this, I want her to know that I will support her decisions but not in the way her new 'friends' are doing. I just want what's best for her."

SEE ALSO:

→ Vic Presley on having to start from zero: "I'm not a nepobaby!"

→ A look inside y/n's SoHo apartment, the one Aidan Kim paid for.

→ Is Charles Leclerc's career going downhill thanks to y/n?

By Beatrice Mann

With y/n y/ln's latest controversy, the whole world has turned their backs on the actress. But, is it really that bad? Or is it just because she's a woman in the business?

The online community's hottest topic is y/n's Youtube video where she speaks on her relationship with Aidan Kim, her friendship with Charles Leclerc and, most importantly, how all of this has affected her career. And I want to tell you all, y/n is right.

If the roles were reversed, Aidan Kim would be thriving on a newly unlocked 'Heartbreaker' persona and y/n would still be constantly humiliated for not being 'wife material'.

I believe y/n deserves much better than what she's getting. The woman admitted she escaped a relationship where her partner LAUGHED at her and manipulated her actions for his comfort. And people are still siding with the man? Seriously, people, use your brains and dig up your morals!

The only thing we're communicating to younger generations by constantly doubting women's words and putting them in the spotlight for standing up for themselves, is that only men's words are worth something.

June 14th, Manhattan, New York.

It isn't much of a surprise when Charles calls you while you're trying to get your Moka pot to work that morning. It's your third attempt at it and the previous mornings you've left it alone with tears in your eyes to walk down the street and get Starbucks coffee. You might be a little too attached to that coffee maker.

Charles got to New York city the previous night, and reminded you that you promised to show him around more than once. You intended to keep your promise, thinking you would have more time before the day came.

But as you walk to the restaurant where you decided to meet him, you can't help but think how exciting it is that you get to show the city you love so much to Charles. And just like that morning in Monaco, you can't help but remind yourself that this is a friendly get-together.

Charles has slowly, but surely, become one of your closest friends in the middle of the frenzy that your life is. With your ex-best friend saying you walked out on her and your failed fiancé insisting that it was you, who acted like a 'total psychopath' towards the end of your relationship, you have more fingers than people you can count on.

You watch him carefully as he smooths the napkin on his legs twice and then drops in on the table again, fidgeting with the loose threads in the corner.

Your wristwatch says it's 10:00 am, which is the exact time you agreed to meet. You wonder how long he's been waiting if there's an empty cup of coffee in front of him.

"You know, it's also rude to be too early for a meeting," you say as a form of greeting once you approach the table.

This startles him enough to drop the napkin on his lap again, proceeding to scramble to return it to the table before pushing his chair out to get up.

You chuckle, but before you can say you were joking, Charles is engulfing you in a hug. Your stomach flutters because of the way he holds the back of your head with his palm. It feels like you're being reunited after months instead of just two weeks. Time doesn't feel real sometimes, you would know.

"Soleil!" he says excitedly, putting his hands on your shoulders. "It's so good to see you,"

"It's nice to see you too, Charlie."

There's the nickname again. You've tried not to think too hard about it. Is it a European thing to call your friends that? When you asked him about it the last time he called before taking his flight to New York, his response was a simple 'it suits you'.

Charles pulls your chair for you and grabs your purse to place it on the empty chair between you two. He grabs his napkin again, pulling one last time on a thread before smoothing it down and forgetting about it.

"How are you?" Charles asks, a bright smile on his face. It falters in a barely perceptible way because he doesn't want to give you bad thoughts, which seem to come automatically every time the question is asked.

"Well, I'm okay," you assure in a soothing tone, "Still looking for jobs. And you?"

"Alright. Lots of work in the simulator and I'm hoping this is a good weekend,"

"Are you sure you'll be okay getting to Montreal tomorrow?" you smile at the waitress that approaches your table, "Can I have some coffee, please?"

"Of course," Charles assures, with a gesture of his hand. He's getting to Montreal at seven in the morning and running straight to his motorhome. "There's time for everything."

"What do you want to do, then?"

You don't want to exhaust him by showing him around New York, he has a long weekend ahead. To be honest, you really wonder what compelled him to make this stop instead of going straight to Canada. Sure you had talked about him coming to New York, eventually. Not a day before he had to start his Grand Prix weekend.

"Anything you want us to do," he replies, the single-dimpled smile on his face. "I'm open to anything."

"MoMA? Central Park? Something not so touristy?" you suggest, before thanking the waitress as she places a hot cup of coffee on the table.

"Just show me the places you like, y/n, don't stress about it." Charles laughs, eyes returning to the open menu in front of him. "I only care about hanging out with you."

"Thanks," is all you manage to say as you sip the scalding coffee, you do your best not to wince as it burns your tongue and down your throat. "Let's do it then."

"So, what do you think? Everything you expected and more?"

You're taking a walk in Central Park after Charles agreed to see the Alice in Wonderland statue. It's a warm morning in New York and although you haven't been walking around for that long, Charles seems content enough with what he's seen.

"It's very... you," Charles replies, and you're sure he means it as a compliment, but New York can be really ugly too. "In a good way!" he adds when he sees your expression.

"Thank you, Charlie." you laugh again. It's easy being with Charles, laughing with sincerity and really being in what's happening in the moment.

You didn't lie when you said you weren't afraid of speaking up anymore, but the dread of actually doing it is inevitable. Your words are being twisted and marked as false because Aidan is far 'more loved' than you are. Not to mention Victoria's interview about your lack of reciprocity to her humble feelings

You're still thinking about suing her. But it hurts to know that she was your best friend a week ago.

A few people stop you both to ask for pictures and autographs on the back of phone cases. A few of them ignore you, others smile politely at Charles before asking him to take their picture with you.

"I'm really polishing my photographing skills," Charles jokes as you walk away from a group of young girls who gush about how much they wish they could dress like you.

"Sorry if it bothers you," you whisper, looking at him only from the corner of your eye.

"Of course not, y/n. They ask nicely, and you're okay with it." he shrugs.

There was one time when a teenager, around fourteen or fifteeen, asked Aidan if he could please take a picture of her and yourself. It was an innocent question, she had already acknowledged him as 'that guy from Star-5' and how he'd been in Supercut with you.

But just by the way you saw his expression change, you told the girl a selfie was a better option, you would hold the phone yourself if she was okay with it.

You didn't hear the end of it for the rest of night. Aidan berated your career for the first time of many, saying it was frankly offensive that he’d been treated that way. It didn't matter that you told him the girl was barely a teen and she hadn't been rude. Still, he was more famous than you, he didn't deserve to be made felt like the opposite.

"What are you thinking?" Charles asks, touching your shoulder gently to make you pause your walk.

You really don't want to admit you were thinking about your ex-boyfriend. Not that it matters, Charles knows you think about Aidan often in a mostly negative light, but it feels weird to say it here. So you shrug and sigh. "I wish I thought of nothing, to be honest."

Charles squeezes your shoulder in a half hug. He doesn't push your boundaries, although he wishes he knew what was actually going through your mind.

─────────

It's when you two are having dinner in a restaurant in SoHo that Charles asks the question that has been eating him away since he landed in New York the previous night.

"Do you want to come to Canada with me?"

"Am I not blacklisted from the paddock?" you tease, although Elix is gone. You wonder if Ferrari people blame you a little bit for their sponsor dropping them.

"Absolutely not," Charles frowns, "And you would be my guest, you get to be in the Ferrari Suite like always."

"Thank you, Charlie–"

Charles tries not to seem disappointed as he waits for the 'but' to follow, so he drinks from his wine.

"—but I have some back to back things to do this weekend," you do regret not being able to make it, you loved the few Grand Prix you were able to attend and you would love to see Carlos too. But you have booked a few interviews with people who, more than anything want to consume gossip, but have disguised it as 'letting you tell your truth in more depth'. You cannot back down from what you started.

"That's okay," he assures with a quick wink. "You know you can come to races whenever you want to, though, right?"

"I can?" you raise both eyebrows and Charles rolls his eyes. "The benefits of having a Ferrari driver as a friend. I should have befriended you sooner."

"Very funny," he says as he hides his smile behind his glass of wine again. "Do I get invited to the Red Carpets?"

"You kind of befriended me at the downfall of my career. It's going to take a while for you to be on a Red Carpet."

Charles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "You're only just getting started, soleil. Don't say that."

You hope he's right, because you have castings lined-up for next week too and you don't want to call him, or Mati, or your mom, crying about how unwanted you feel.

You shrug, drinking from your own wine.

"I'm being serious, y/n," Charles' tone is stern for a moment, yet not aggressive. "You have a lot of wonderful things to do in the future."

"Yeah, thanks." you dislike yourself for ruining the mood yet again, but Charles isn't bothered as he smiles at you once again.

"I mean it,"

He does, and so does Mati, and your mom. You are bound for great things, although they're taking time to find you right now.

"I know. Thank you Charlie, you're very kind. I hope you have a good race this weekend."

Charles huffs. "Yes, me too. Wish me luck?"

"I feel like I jinx you more than help you, Charlie."

"You didn't wish me luck in Spain, look how that went," he fakes a shudder and you snort. You hated every minute spent in Spain after FP3.

"Good luck, you'll do great." You pat the hand that he keeps on top of the table a couple times and before you can take your hand back, he grabs it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your heart races and you take a deep, sharp breath, like that would help it go back to normal. You have tried not to overanalyze everything about today, from the way Charles looked to the words he said, to the way your body responded to it. You don't want to go down that specific spiral.

"Thanks for stopping by," you take your hand back and keep it busy with your almost empty glass of wine. The alcohol has turned your cheeks warm. "You really want to see New York, huh?"

"I really wanted to see you," Charles replies, nonchalantly.

And you know you'll be spiraling, despite your best efforts.

─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! also thank you so so so much because last chapter got to 1k+ interactions and i was beyond shocked!! it means a lot that you're enjoying delicate!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

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#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

984 notes · View notes

everythingne · 4 months

Text

out of the woods — LS2

After a short break during her time as a Ferrari reserve driver, loud-mouthed driver Dhanishka Dubey resurfaces when she moves up to f1 under Ferrari. She’s back to terrorize her ex, none other than Logan Sargeant when she conquers him once again this season, just like before, just like always.

But when faced with your first love, and your only love, it's hard to let those feelings past. Especially when a relationship was prematurely ended, especially when she's everything you aren't, especially when you never got over his love.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (adult) hamda al qubaisi (young)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, multiple incorrect dates, butchered pasts for logan and oscar, [] used to denote other languages being spoken, yes the title is taylor swift ok, the oc is indian, however the author is NOT, pls pls pls correct me on any inaccuracies ♥️ let me pretend logan didn't have a bad season by putting him on par w oscar. this is for MY mental health !!

(part two)

14 NOVEMBER, INSTAGRAM

scuderiaferrari made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, logansargeant, and 238k others…

scuderiaferrari: welcoming dhanishka dubey to the f1 team from her past position of reserve driver this season! she will be the first ever bahraini f1 driver, and the third woman to take to the grid. dhaniska is currently sponsored by @ monsterenergy and @ colourpopcosmetics, she’s bringing a bright, energized feel to our team this season!

dhanishkadubey: so so excited to be here!

charlesleclerc: sometimes i still hear carlos… singing in the distance…

⤷ dhaniskadubey: smooooooooth operatoooorrr

⤷ carlossainz: you both act like i died, i just changed teams.

⤷ charlesleclerc: rip smooth operator <;/3

user2: this is so a jab at williams .

⤷ user3: how ??

⤷ user2: @ user3 dhanishka is logans ex girlfriend

⤷ user3: OOOO

⤷ user4: NO WAY???

oscarpiastri: pls don’t run me off the track again (i will beg if i have to)

⤷ dhanishkadubey: no promises ossie ♥️ (get on ur knees)

⤷ oscarpiastri: AYO??

danielriccardio: DANNY 2!!!

⤷ dhanishkadubey: DANNY 1!!!!

dhanishkadubey made a post!

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, landonorris, and 298k others...

dhanishkadubey: might be the prettiest thing i have ever worn?? happy diwali to u all and a (late) happy 22 to me ♥️ (yea, i AM feeling 22.)

tagged: anyadubey

anyadubey: ily<3

user1: MOTHER IS MOTHERING EVERYONE!!

liamlawson: u look like a very nice disco ball ! happy diwali

⤷ dhanishkadubey: u look like a very nice young man ! thank u!

user2: god we don't need this conceited bitch on the track.

maxverstappen: happy birthday, happy diwali, and welcome to f1!

⤷ dhanishkadubey: thank you max !! looking forward to challenging you this seaon :)!

user3: shes going to get someone killed

14 NOVEMBER, TWITTER

28 FEBRUARY, BAHRAIN

"It's a pre-season dinner, how badly can it go?" Anya asks me, eyes darting down to my sari and then back to my face as she works on pinning the pleats to my shoulder as I adjust them and secure their positioning.

When she’s done, she squeezes my arms as she stands next to me in her much more casual western clothing. We look like opposites, me in a bright red sari and her wearing a black dior sweatshirt and jeans. She grins, “you look stunning by the way."

"Thanks, Anya," I give her a little side hug, passing her to continue fixing myself up in the mirror ahead of us. I huff as I adjust my earrings and bracelets, tacking the former down with eyelash glue, "I just worry if like… Logan says something.”

“You’re gonna let a man, a white man no less, make you worry?” Anya paused, hands on her hips as she looks at me in the mirror of our parents home, the little cookie cutter complex we lived in the corner plot in.

“Plus what would he even say?” Anya crosses her arms, “that whole thing wasn’t even your fault.”

“I know but… I was still Trident’s golden child when it happened. People are always gonna assume I had something to do with it. I’m lucky the FIA didn’t take anything away from me, I’m honestly lucky the team admitted I had nothing to do with it.”

“Does Logan blame you?” Anya leans on the doorframe to my bathroom, “because that’s the only opinion that matters.”

“He might. I… it made him break up with me. So, I don’t know.” I sigh, “but it’s just one guy, I still have Oscar, Charles, Carlos and Daniel.”

“I still don’t get Danny.” Anya muses, and when she sees my confusion she waves a hand, “No, not him, as your nickname.”

“Oh, a reporter called me ‘Dan-ish-ka’ and not ‘Dun-ish-kah’ and someone on Twitter thought she called me Danny and it just—rolled from there.” I laughed softly, turning back to Anya as I motioned for her to move out of the door so I could grab my bag and such. She did with ease, moving to grab the keys to my (but hers when I wasn’t home) Porsche Taycan.

“And, that’s when there were rumors I was joining Red Bulls Junior team as well, instead of Ferrari’s, so it all just kept stacking.” I grabbed my purse off my bed and dropped in a small perfume container, my lipstick, and a few other essentials, “people called me ‘Danny 2’ and it got to Daniel Ricciardo himself, and that’s how we started talking.”

“Oh that’s actually so cute.” Anya grins, following me out to the kitchen where my mother is forcing my father to help her make biryani while she’s fixing up the bar for a party they’re having tonight.

“Alright, [Momma, Dad, how do I look?] Do we like the red one better than the silver one? Anya helped me pick this one out, [she thinks it’s some sort of new style with the solid color.]” I call in the usual mix of Marathi, Arabic, and English out household uses. As I pause in the kitchen, Anya’s fixing my sari out of her own nervous habit. My mother gasps, pushing past my father to take me into her arms with a bright smile.

“Oh! Dhanishka, wow! [You look amazing! I love this one,] is it new?” My mother looks me over and I nod, seeing the hint of my father’s smile from the kitchen that makes my heart sing. He rarely showed his support on his face, but since everything with Trident and the subsequent fall out and mental break, he tried his hardest to show his love for me and Anya. He did a good job.

“Yeah, [it’s from Manish?]” I say, turning back to Anya who nods.

“All of my girls, [so stunning.]” My father grinned, wiping his hands off before giving me a loose hug as to not get anything from his hands on my outfit, “Do you need anything to eat before you go?”

“No, [dad], I’ll be fine. Thank you.” I squeeze his shoulder, and my mother makes me stand back so she can take about a dozen photos of everyone with me. Once the photos are done, we wave goodbye, and it’s off to the restaurant they’ve picked.

I would’ve settled with anything in Manama, honestly but eating at somewhere down by the Four Seasons is perfect.

Anya drops me off to the front of the restaurant and I slip in, greeting the staff and letting them point me in the right direction. My hands are slick as I pull out my phone from my bag, Charles letting me know he was coming in right behind me, and I turn to see him, Max, and Carlos.

“Dhanishka!” Charles grins, leaning down to give me a quick hug, “Oh, this is the one you sent me? It looks nice.”

“Thank you. Figured I’d come in looking like I at least belong in the country I’m in, since I don’t quite fit in with the people yet.” I shrug, fiddling with the red fabric in my hands, feeling the beading against my knuckles. Catching my worry, Charles turns to the two who awkwardly greet me with half hugs and congratulations on driving along with them this season.

Once everyone’s stepped back, Charles nodded to them, “You guys go ahead, we’ll see you in there.”

Carlos and Max move behind a curtain and into a doorway, but Charles grabs my arm gently and pulls me back into a hallway leading to the bathroom, hands finding mine and squeezing them.

“Stop overthinking this, it’s a room with a bunch of stupid men. Basically the same thing you’ve been dealing with for like—over ten years.” Charles looks at me and I huff, pulling my hands back from him and fixing my hair for the third time since we’d gotten to the hallway.

“I just—what if someone brings up the crash? Or me racing with Trident?” I stammer and he shakes his head.

“I’ll deal with it. If anything happens, I’ll help you. I’m in your corner.” Charles takes my hands once more, squeezes them, and then lets go of them, “now, are you ready?”

“As long as you’re next to me, yeah… yeah I can do this.” I nod and he grins, moving ahead to open the door for me. I follow him, taking a slow breath before nodding and moving into the little reserved dining room. At the sight of me, a few conversations halt and I scan the room before noticing Oscar moving away from Logan to come greet me.

Logan’s… the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, crinkles in the corners of his eyes and a permanent smile line as his lips fall from a grin when he spots me. I take him in, his crisp blue suit with the jacket discarded—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie a bit loose and fuck, he looks confident and calm. He’s nothing like me in this moment, almost like we’ve swapped.

“Dhanishka.” Oscar steps in my eyeline, breaking the stare down between me and the American boy, and I smile at the Australian as he gently takes me in a hug.

“Good to see you, Oscar.” I close my eyes in the hug, and he steps back.

“Nice—fuck what’s the word—sa..” He holds up a hand when I go to tell him and then snaps, “Saree!”

“I’ve trained you well.” I laugh, complimenting his black suit, noting the decorative papaya colored inside of his jacket and little McLaren ‘81’ lapel. He says Lando has the matching ‘4’ and I make some joke that’s lost over Daniel chanting my name as he comes over to give me a tight hug.

“How’s my mini-me?” He asks, making sure the beading doesn’t hook on his suit as he steps back, I laugh and tell him I’m good, leaving out the part where my ex has been staring at me since I came in the door and I’m about half a second away from yelling at him to look elsewhere.

Luckily, Alex pulls Logan’s attention away— flashing me a small apologetic smile before bringing him over to the little minibar on the opposite side of the room.

“Do you drink?” Charles asks, hand on my elbow and I nod. My parents were lax with drinking and stuff as long as it wasn’t a holiday where I shouldn’t be. He grins and guides me to my seat, Oscar, Daniel and now Carlos tagging along. As I'm settling down to sit, Oscar on my left side with Lando on his left, Charles asking me what I’d like to drink. After a quick peruse of the menu, I settle on a margarita, and he whisks off to the bar to get it while Daniel sits across from me.

“You’re nervous about Logan, aren’t you?” Daniel leans across the table as he speaks, Carlos sitting next to him and taking a sip of a drink. Lando leans to ask Oscar something in a hushed tone besides me, and my eyes flicker to their whispers momentarily before settling back on Daniel.

“I just don’t want someone to bring up Trident, for either of our sakes, its a sore subject.” I huff, looking around the room, everyones clumped off in the groups I expect to see, a few stragglers between each group either drifting to the table or the bar.

"I'm sure if someone tries, it'll get shut down pretty quick." Oscar turns to me after filling Lando in. Charles sits on my other side, setting down my margarita and taking a sip of whatever drink he'd been coerced into drinking. I assume Max had something to do with it when I eye the gin and tonic in his hand.

"I know, I know. I just worry." I hum, bringing the margarita to my lips as a few more people settle. Logan is sitting a few seats down on the other side of the table, giving us both a clear view of the other. I know it's not intentional, but it makes my skin crawl.

Oscar has Lando switch seats with him, claiming he doesn't wanna hear whatever the two will shout over him, but I know it's so that he can help distract Logan. I remind myself tot hank him later.

I set down my margarita glass, standing up to formally greet Yuki as he comes to sit next to Daniel and I notice Logan's eyes firm on the glass. As I sit back down, I know why he's staring and my cheeks warm. Red lipstick stains the edge of the glass, something that I used to use to stain his lips back when we'd sneak kisses between Trident and HWA's paddocks and in hotel elevators.

And he might have had power over me because I was afraid of causing a fight at my first event with the F1 drivers, but being civil and lying down never got me anywhere in racing. So, when his eyes linger on my lips, I 'accidentally' make a show of pulling out my purse and setting it on my lap. My dark red nails clicking along the zipper as I pull it open and pull out a compact mirror and the same tube of red lipstick he'd bought be back in 2021. Logan bought it days before the crash, a Valentino refillable lipstick, more expensive than I deserved. He'd proudly given it to me, claiming his mom had the idea after my long term lipstick had finally run out. It was still shade 22R. The only shade I ever wore.

Even if Logan had bought the lipstick, I still liked it. It looked nice on my lips, complimented my skin, transferred just enough for my liking.

Across the table, Logan's eyes dilate in a sort of recognition as I swipe the tube across my lower lip. My dark eyes watching his light ones out of my peripheral as I watch myself in the my little red compact Valentino mirror. I'd bought it since it matched the tube of lipstick, and I know he recognizes that too. His bottom lip disappears under his teeth in a soft hiss. I know he knew exactly what lipstick it was. He'd bought be the first one, I just got it refilled after.

And if I purposefully fuck it up, using my finger to fix it just to rile him into silence as he looks away flustered, no one else comments on it. Except a cheeky grin from Daniel who muffles a laugh into his palm, pretending Carlos said something to him.

I have the upperhand at the moment, and it eases my panic. Charles looks over at me, sending me an odd look as a click my mirror shut a little louder than I probably should, but a just send him a tiny smile in response and he doesn't question it as I drop both items into my Coach purse and hang it on the back of my chair once more.

Once everyone's settled, it's Max who stands and thanks everyone for coming and thanks Charles for helping him organize the little dinner. Menus are passed around by two waitresses who speak in soft voices as they explain the specials to us in groups, and then we're off to pick our food and mingle. I settle on a 'keto bowl' type dish with salmon and a small appetizer of these little potato wedge things Daniel claims I have to split with him.

And I get a stronger drink because each time Logan even looks in my direction it makes a knot form in my stomach.

"Are you gonna ignore him all night?" Lando turns to murmur to me when we're getting our appetizers. It's been twenty minutes of odd tension and I can tell Lando's getting a little irritated by it.

"I've ignored him for three years. I can do it now." I say back, a little sharp, but when I see Lando's not asking out of irritation but rather worry, I soften and whisper, "It's fine. I..."

Trailing off, my eyes find Logan's accidentally, and it's like I can't look away. It's the second time we've made eye contact, and maybe its the margarita swirling in my stomach and pumping liquid courage through my veins, but I can't look away. It's like we're trapped for a moment, breaths caught in our throats. His voice fails in whatever story he's cheerily recounting to Oscar and Alex, and I see the former look towards where Logan's staring and he makes a bit of a worried expression.

I swallow, Pierre screeching in laughter pulling us from the moment, and I turn back to Lando as Logan rips his eyes away to look at Oscar.

"It's just... hard." I muse and Lando nods, he doesn't say anything about Logan after that as I turn back to Charles who gives me a tiny reassuring nod and then introduces me to the aforementioned Pierre who's come to stand behind us. I keep myself turned away from Logan for the rest of the meal, appetizers swallowed quickly between Daniel and I, Yuki and I sharing drinks and stories as we wait for dinner, I'm at least seven drinks in and happily going for an eighth.

My high tolerance doesn't fail me, but my bladder is close to doing so. With as much tipsy grace as I can muster, I slip out and down the hall to the bathroom, and when I'm done there I stop to freshen myself up in a mirror in the hall. I reapply my perfume, check my teeth, and wipe off a faint smudge of lipstick on my nose from when I had taken a rather large bite and smushed my lip up.

I hear the door click shut and glance over, throat going dry at the sight of Logan. I turn back to the mirror, digging in my purse for my lipstick once more, and he silently passes behind me without a word.

Somehow, that hurts more than anything.

But it's not like I'm making myself available to speak, so I finish tidying up my lipstick, and go back into the room. I grab more drinks for most of the table, thanking the bartender who comes around to help me bring all the drinks to the table.

Entrees arriving at the table passes me in a blur, I'm somehow shoved in a story with Yuki, Zhou, George, Esteban, and Max. I don't even know what they're really saying as everyone's laughing and speaking over one another, but I just enjoy being included.

I eat slow, laughing along with Daniel when he pops into whatever debate Lando, Carlos, and Charles, have pulled him into. And when the hyperactivity dies down as more of us get a bit sluggish from drinking, I eat a bit quicker to finish up my food so it helps my stomach have time to digest before I leave and helps my tipsiness lessen.

I check my phone, it's about ten thirty when we finish eating, and then it's kinda just a free for all hang out for a while. A few people start trickling out after it hits midnight. I know some of them have training tomorrow, as do I, but I kinda can already tell I'm not getting much rest tonight. Alex leaves in a group of about half the table, and I'm helping Charles and Max clean up as the rest slowly trickle out. Eventually I'm escorting Charles to a car as he waves goodbye to Max with a drunken laugh on his lips. Once the driver is on his way, I pluck my phone out of my purse and look through my messages. Anya's on her way, running late due to having to park her car far away since we had a lot of guests at the house.

"You shouldn't... ah," A familiar voice chimes and I look over to where Logan stands. He's far enough away to not be intruding, but close enough to shift towards me a bit as some random men pass behind us on the nearly vacant sidewalk, "You shouldn't stand out here alone, Dhanishka."

Him saying my name makes my heart leap into my throat and I pocket my phone, speaking gently, "Thanks for the concern, but I assure you I'll be fine. Anya's just down the road."

"Still, you know my mom would beat my ass if she knew I left a girl out here alone." He pauses, "Especially if it's you." And his voice trails off. For years his mother had helped raise me, my parents still spoke with her frequently—hell, she and her husband were at my house right now. And I know he’s right. But I can’t say anything past the bump in my throat. My silence makes him shift as he adjusts his grip on his jacket over his shoulder. It was an exceptionally chilly night for some odd reason. A cool breeze ripples across my shoulders. Bahrain was a desert, the lowest we got was 10 degrees celsius, nothing like the zero it was settled at now.

"You can stay." I say after a while and he visibly relaxes, still watching me out of the corner of his eye. The 'few minutes away' Anya texted me feels like a joke as the time stretches on and on and the cold bite of the air gets worse. I try using my saree as a bit of a scarf, but the red fabric is thin and does little to help.

After ten minutes, my teeth start to chatter as the street empties of most people and cars. It's a short hour or so lull when not much will happen at all before people start morning commutes. Beside me, I hear Logan huff. He moves closer and I look over to see him settle his jacket across my shoulders.

"Don't need you getting sick before the first race." He says softly, now far closer than he has been all day. I know I thank him, because I feel the words leave my throat, but I can't hear it over the blood rushing past my ears.

He'd broken it off with me, I never loved another. I still wore the same shade of lipstick and the same perfume, the same songs played on my Spotify whenever I had a chance. Taylor Swift blasting in my ears on long drives, Eminem for parties, Beyonce or Shakira for hyping myself up. I followed the Miami Dolphins loosely because I knew he loved them, and after all this time I found my heart still could be held in his hands. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the feeling of blush spreading across my chilly skin.

After a moment of us just staring at each other, the dim light being broken by passing cars, he whispers, "You can't ignore me forever. As much as you want to, the media is gonna stick us together the first opportunity they have. And... I know I remind you of Trident. I know I remind you of that 'crashgate' shit and maybe I should since you took my victory away."

"You and I both know I had nothing to do with that accident." I turn back to Logan, now fully facing him. I feel suffocated, the scent of his cologne on his jacket covering my perfume, like some sort of silencer washed over my voice. He still wears the same brand from back in the day, from when I stole his jackets and hoodies rather than being gifted them. It felt like a sick metaphor. Somehow we were the same after all this time, yet we would never get to be that again.

"Oh, come on." Logan laughs through a taught frown, threading a hand through his hair, "Now, I can believe that your team principal planned for your teammate to crash into me if I was ahead of you without you knowing. But when they told you to let your teammate overtake you for no reason, you didn't stop to ask why?"

"I did ask why, did you read the FIA reports?" I say back, wind whipping across the street and blowing my hair in front of my eyes like a blindfold.

"Or how about when the accident happened? Why did you keep racing?" He asks, sharp, and I can tell it's something thats been brewing. Years of silence on my end after he'd snapped with tears in his big blue eyes, telling me he 'couldn't do this anymore' and I let him walk away.

But I held my ground, as I always had to do. On my own once again, ostracized, I step closer and rip my hair away from my face in frustration that it wont stay back, "I was told I had to, Logan! I begged them to let me know what had happened to you and they refused! I didn't care about Viscaal! I cared about you!"

"Then why did you let me leave?!" He shouts and the whole street goes silent. We breathe heavy, almost chest to chest, eyes boring into each other with unshed tears. It's a gaping hole in my chest he claws at, trying to scrounge up answers I've buried six feet in the ground. I hear the sound of a car pulling up, I know its Anya without looking.

"What was I supposed to do?" I whisper, ripping his jacket off my shoulders and shoving it into his chest, "Beg you to come back? Apologize a hundred times? You didn't want to see me, you didn't care. I let you go because you wanted to go, and I'm fine with that."

He stares at me and I sniffle, cursing when I realize I've let the tears fall, and I continue, "I never would've let them do that to you if I knew. If I knew, I would've gone right to the FIA, you know that. Don't drag my name like the media already has, please. I can't take it from you of all people, Logan."

We stand in silence for a few more moments and then I turn around, passing in front of Anya's car to get in. I pause with my hand on the handle, watching Logan watch me with this expression in his eyes I can't read. Maybe I was wrong, maybe Logan and I weren't the same anymore, but I don't stop to think too hard as I rip open the door and throw myself down. When I slam the door, Anya puts the car in drive without pausing to ask anything, and pulls away as I desperately try to not watch Logan in the rearview.

"Can we just... drive?" I ask after a long silence and my sister nods, cracking the windows to let the cold air circle around us. I take a slow breath and tilt my head up, swallowing down my emotions until I feel a cool numbness roll across my skin. A familiar numbness.

It's going to be bad again, I can feel it in my chest.

dhanishkajpg made a new post!

liked by charlesleclerc, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri, and 245k others...

dhanishkajpg: shade 22R. his favorite. red. the color that's always bested him. (viewing translation from arabic)

user has turned off comments for this account.

taglist (thank you!)

@struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #logan sargeant x oc #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant smau #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 smau #ls2 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fanfic #f1 x reader

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noyatv · 5 months

Text

𝙨𝙩𝙮𝞘𝙚━ 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝞘𝙚𝙨 𝞘𝙚𝙘𝞘𝙚𝙧𝙘

"ᴡᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ sᴛʏ��ᴇ!"

warning: jack & yn act like siblings, cheating (both yn and charles)

part 2→ is it over now?

im not commenting on this

liked by f1gossip, wagcloset and 134,976 others deuxmoi f1 driver charles leclerc spotted kissing someone who looks identical to his popstar girlfriend, yn

f1gossip yikes user1 silly szn hasn't even started ↳user2 a literal shitshow

liked by jackantonoff, pierregasly, isahernaez and 1,256,845 others ynln june dump w/@isahernaez & @jackantonoff

isahernaez she fell down the stairs ↳ynln lies

jackantonoff wonder who took the photos?? ↳ynln if the producing gig doesn't work out you have photography as a backup ↳jackantonoff kys

Time blurred; 11:56. Another 3 minutes pass. A sign of life shows at the end of the road, the street lamps lighting the pathway. It stopped only a few feet ahead. The window rolled down.

"Get in."

"You drive cars for a living, do you not know what headlights are?"

"Shut up."

The lights in the apartment were turned off, a rustling sound emerging from behind me as Charles took his coat off.

"Heard you been out with some other girl."

"It's true," he paused. "But I can't stop thinking about you and I."

"I've been there too a few times."

liked by f1gossip, formulagossip, and 547,278 others deuxmoi Pierre Gasly spotted cozying up next to an unknown woman in southern France

user1 that ain't an "unknown woman" THATS YN ↳user2 wish i was as delulu as you

liked by pierregasly, lilymhe, jackantonoff, and 14,526,348 others ynln wish i announced this sooner, but its out, style (and the rest of 1998) is yours! special thanks to @jackantonoff for helping me produce it and @lilymhe & @alex_albon for listening to me complain abt my love life!

lilymhe THATS MY WIFE ↳ynln I LOVE YOU POOKIE ↳alex_albon 😐 ↳ynln whomp whomp (im sorry pls don't take lily away)

mercedesamgf1 playing 1998 on repeat, boss man is concerned, especially when he who i won't name walks by ↳ynln ily admin, more than 12 yo me loved jenson button

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goldsainz · 11 months

Note

ur writing is so beautiful omg, so i was wondering if you could do lewis x actress!reader? something angsty idk

YOU’RE LOSING ME — one shot.

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: you have tried your best, but despite your valiant efforts, he just doesn’t see you anymore.

warnings: angst, cursing, a LOT (like a lot) of taylor references.

NOTE: YAY A LEWIS PIECE!!! i love this man so much makes me happy that someone asked me to write for him, so thank youuuuuu 🫶🫶 remember this is all fiction, it’s not meant to be taken literally. also, there won’t be a part 2, so pls don’t ask for one.

[ word count: 2,6k ]

You loved Lewis, and you knew he loved you. It wasn’t a matter of love, it was about showing up and making you feel wanted.

You knew love. You knew it was sweet, and had its sour moments, but it was about resilience and the want to be there for your loved ones. And love shouldn’t feel the way it did, it shouldn’t form a lump in your throat when he kissed you, it shouldn’t want to make you cry, it especially shouldn’t have made you feel lost.

You had spent endless nights sitting in the dark of your shared room, wondering if it was time. Maybe those feelings would go away, you knew Lewis was going through a rough time with Mercedes and his pursuit for an 8th WDC. And you were so, so supportive, but there wasn’t much more you could give. Should you throw out everything you had built together, or keep it?

There were moments in which you remained silent, keeping each thought you had to yourself just to not ruin your day. You just glared at him, hoping he would realise something was wrong, that maybe you did have things to talk about, but he never did. He just kissed your forehead, and carried on with his day.

You had become accustomed to him coming home late, to the weeks without him. It was a part of his job, and even if you had wanted to accompany him, your job demanded too much of you to do so.

Lewis was a popular person, and despite being very reserved, he still had many fans and people that admired him all around. His attention was always drawn to others, jumping from conversation to conversation, pausing your chats to greet whomever he recognised. It was exhausting, but you pushed through because he was the love of your life, the one you had been searching for your whole life.

After-parties were the best thing after award shows, it was much more intimate, and you didn't have to worry about unwanted attention. You could let loose for a while, the pressure of always being in front of a camera leaving you as you chatted the night away, drinking every now and then as to numb some of your worries.

You watch people laughing, having the time of their lives, while you wallow by the bar of your own party. You feel forgettable, but so needed at the same time, people kiss your cheeks and congratulate you for your award winning performance and the achievement you accomplished, and all you do is smile at everyone. You feel like a fraud, acting like you're great when in reality you are screaming on the inside.

“Is Lewis here?” One of your castmates asks you, making you search for him in the crowd.

“Yeah, he’s with his friends.” You say with the best smile you can muster.

“Doesn’t it bother you that he's not with you?”

“I’m sorry?” The question startles you, tilting your head to the side as the emotion from your face fades.

“I mean, it’s not every day you win a golden globe for best actress, shouldn’t he be with you?”

“He’s a very busy man, it doesn't bother me, there’s still so much time to celebrate.” You say with a laugh, brushing off the comment.

“Ugh, you’re such couple goals. It makes me jealous, honestly.”

“Well, it has been six years.” You almost cringe at the bad joke, but fortunately she just laughs. You smile at her, bidding her a good night as you leave to socialise.

The party is at its peak, people are dancing anywhere and everywhere, shoes are discarded around as the dancing gets to them.

“Y/N, get over here!” Miles, Lewis’ friend, shouts at you.

Walking through a crowd of drunk people is near impossible, it takes a lot of patience but you finally reach your boyfriend and his friends. You instantly sit next to Lewis, his knee brushing yours, but other than that, no further contact happens.

It should worry you, it does, but you’ve learnt to not question his attitude. You don’t want to start a fight on your special night, not with all of the people around you, not when he’s finally somewhere with you.

“Hi, guys.” You say, smiling at everyone.

“We wanted to see you, you’ve been everywhere all night!” The comment almost makes you scoff, you’ve looked for Lewis and he is always somewhere else, something always calls his attention when you reach him

“You know how it is.” His friends all laugh at the comment, but he just looks at you with a little smile.

“Well, now that you’re here, the group is complete.”

“It’s always nice to see all of you, thank you for coming, by the way.”

“As if we would ever miss this!” Another of his friends says, motioning to the place with his hands.

You try to intertwine your fingers to your boyfriend’s, initiating any sort of contact to try and mend his poor behaviour in front of his friends. They’re all too drunk to notice the awkwardness, but you feel it, it has been suffocating you for months.

“I’m glad you’re having fun then.”

The conversation flows nicely enough. It serves as a distraction from the indifference Lewis gives you. You’re the best at the party, you’re the reason the party is even happening, and yet you still fade in the background of his thoughts.

“So, how long are you here in London for?” Riley, one of his friend’s girlfriends, asks you, a drink in her hand.

“I’m leaving on wednesday, but I’m probably gonna be back in England for the Grand Prix.” You look at Lewis, who turns to you at the same time.

“That’s great! I could neer travel as much as you guys do.”

“It’s part of the job, but we make it work.” You wait for Lewis to support your statement, but he just looks away.

“When you get married, I need to be there. Your love story is one for the books, girl.” The mention of marriage makes you smile, it’s the one thing you’ve wanted with Lewis since you met him. It’s also the first thing that truly made you smile since you sat down with the group of friends.

Your eyes look down at your bare finger, rubbing the spot where an engagement ring could be if Lewis ever asked you the big question.

“We’re not in a rush to get married.” Is what Lewis says to her. It’s the first time he’s spoken with you included in a conversation, and all you can do is keep smiling. You push away the pain, the knot that forms in your throat almost makes you break.

“We have a lot on our plates, you know? But I’ll make sure you're on the guest list when the time comes.” If Riley sensed anything off, her face is not anything to go by. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to get a way for even a second. And just like that, you desperately want the night to be over.

Arriving at your shared home is nothing short of uncomfortable. The silence while your chauffeur drove you both home made your eyes gloss over, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to keep your tears at bay, but you needed to be strong.

You throw your shoes by the doorway, eager to go to sleep and forget the fact that Lewis indirectly said he didn’t want to get married to you. You’ve been together for six years, he knows you would love to get married, that if he asked you would say yes. It's him who repels the idea, though he once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he now is in no rush to truly settle down with you.

It makes you spiral. Maybe it’s you who makes it difficult to get married, you know you're not the easiest person in the world, but Lewis isn’t either, but you never fault him for it. He says he doesn't understand many things you do, and you tell him you know he doesn't. You’re dying inside with all of the things unsaid between you, and he doesn't see it.

You need him to say something, to do anything to show that he still cares. And as you watch him do his skincare routine, something you used to do together as he taught you how to take care of yourself better, you can’t seem to shake the feeling creeping up on you. That this won't go away, you’re not going through a rough patch, there isn’t a cure to your situation. You just need to let go.

“Lewis?” You call out, sitting on your bed as you prepare for whatever may happen. He hums in response, too caught up on his stuff.

“Can you come here when you’re done, please?”

“Sure.”

When he finishes up in the bathroom, he goes to lay down on the bed. You watch him, how he doesn't seem bothered by the indecision surrounding the room, how grey you have become in all of your overthinking.

“We’re okay, right?” It’s as if time stops. Lewis, who was calmly laying on the bed, has now frozen on his spot. You search his face in hopes to know what he’s thinking, but you can’t. You don’t know him like you used to, the person you hoped would never become a stranger, was now nearing that.

You don’t know if it's his long pause of silence that confirms what you already knew, but hoped wasn't true, or if it’s the fact that you can’t believe you hoped for any type of response.

“I need to know if we’re okay, Lewis.” You turn your whole body to look at him, silently begging him to say something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.” He drags his hands over his face, like the conversation is an annoyance to him , something he can't even consider entertaining. It makes the first tear fall down your face, watching the man you love be so dismissive.

“Anything, literally anything, Lewis.”

“We just had a great night, Y/N. Let’s not ruin it and talk about this some other time, alright? I’m very tired, I have a very busy week ahead, and would like to rest a little.”

It’s a poor excuse, you both know it, it’s written all over his face. You consider letting it go, apologising as you have before, but something about his dismissal makes you angry. It’s the final straw, the last time you will take the blame for trying to fix your relationship, for trying to understand.

“Is that why you won’t marry me?” Your voice breaks in between your words, the raw emotion covering your eyes as you watch him close his eyes in frustration.

“What the fuck are you even talking about right now?”

You scoff at his words, “You said we’re not in a rush to get married.”

“Because we’re not. It’s not a good time, Y/N, and you know it.” His voice is cold, making you wince.

“For you! There’s never a good enough time with you, there’s always something more important.”

“Oh, come on, don’t put this on me.” He stands up from where he is, making his way to the kitchen. You don’t hesitate to follow him, not ready to give up on your conversation.

“I want to settle down, Lewis, we’ve talked about this a thousand times.” You wipe your tears away, trying to compose yourself. “You know that if you ask me I would say yes. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to have everyone ask me when I’m gonna be your bride? All of our friends are getting married, so they practically hand me the bouquet now, and each time you act like nothing happened.”

He pours himself a glass of water, not looking at you, ignoring your presence as if he hopes his indifference will make you go away.

“I love you, why isn't that enough?”

“Do you?” He glances at you, and you finally see the look in his eyes. He doesn't want to fight you, he doesn't want to fight for your relationship. Despite all of the times he acted oblivious, he knew you were reaching a breaking point, he knew you were beating yourself over the impending doom of your relationship, and he said nothing.

You know your pain is an imposition. You know he tolerates it, and you don't question it. You just make your peace with it, even if it means to lie to yourself. There is no doubt in your mind that he loves you, but you don't think he loves you enough, not as he once did, anyway.

“So that's it? Our relationship gets hard and you want to leave?”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“Well, it’s what you’re implying.”

“I just want you to talk to me, to fight for us. That’s all I want.” You rest your elbows on the kitchen counter, placing your head on the palms of your hands, feeling tears soak them.

Lewis shakes his head, leaving the kitchen. You don’t know where he is going, you don’t make an effort to follow him this time. He’s losing you, and he isn't stopping his life to make you stay or even watch you go.

You want him to choose you, you’re right there with him for all of his fights, always on the front line. You never hesitate to bleed for him, yet he does not risk anything. It seems unfathomable that the man you hoped to never lose, actually lost you. It seemed like so long ago when you believed forever was the direction your relationship would take, he changed and you unfortunately stayed the same.

You hear his footsteps near you, but you don’t lift your head to look at him. Not when you know that if you do you’ll truly break, you’ll have to say goodbye to years of memories, you’ll have to walk away once and for all.

You’re shocked when you feel him wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You don’t tense at the touch, you would never, there isn't an ounce of you that doesn't crave all of the contact lost between you. It’s all you've wanted lately, yet it doesn't change a thing. He walked out a long time ago, and now you have to do the same.

“This won’t work, Lewis.”

“I know.”

“I gave it my all, you know?” You whisper, and you feel him press a kiss to the side of your neck, but there are no longer butterflies when he does so, just a broken heart that won't start for him anymore. Your heart was glass, and he dropped it.

“I know you did.” He whispers back.

You want to ask him, if he wished he would’ve put up more of a fight, but you don't think you could deal with the silence after. You know it’s not you, that it’s him, that despite all your faults loving him was never one.

And you’ll try to forget about it. Try to pretend you will find someone who will be equal to Lewis, but you’ll remain right where he left you. And you won’t talk about it, just act like it’s for the best. But it would’ve been fun if he would've been the one.

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

Question...

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: bucky has been acting suspicious so you finally ask him where he's spending his nights/ more like with who

tw: cheating; gaslighting; angst;

a/n: not proof read/ English is not my first language so pls be nice /

suffice to say this was very vagely inspired by taylor swifts song question

MASTERLIST

part 2

"IT'S JUST A QUESTION!" you yelled at your soon to be ex, Bucky.

You were in the middle of an argument with your boyfriend, who you have been suspicious of for a while, and you have finally snapped and asked the question.

"I already told you. I had reports to write." another lie has come through Buckys mouth and it took everything in you not to leave without fighting.

Bucky has been coming home later and later every night for the last couple of months, you tried to trust him, and you did at the beginning, but whatever has been going on it has been going on a while.

"How dare you lie to me! Everyone knows! Our friends look at me like I'm the biggest idot on Earth! Do you understand how embarrassing that is!?" your voice cracking, tears ready to spill.

The party you had attended last night had been the breaking point, worst of all it was your own birthday party.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

It was almost midnight and your birthday was approaching, party had been going on for two hours by now, and you were enjoying yourself.

Greetings and hugs were exchanged, lots of dancing during your favourite songs. Everything was perfect, well almost, Bucky still hasn't arrived and you were starting to think he won't come at all. A message notification gets your attention. Speak of the devil.

bucky: sorry doll be there soon love you

"Hey, you okay?" Natasha had asked you seeing your face fall. You faked a smile and pulled her to the dance floor, not in the mood to talk about it, today was supposed to be a good day.

Bucky arrives 10 minutes later, unfortunately not alone, he arrived with Sharon. Sharon has been a good friend of everyone in the group, and you liked her she was very nice to you, but recently you've had this bad feeling.

Bucky runs up to you, picks you up, and kisses you. It was easy to forget that you're angry and disappointed when he kisses you like that.

The moment is ruined when you hear people laugh. Bucky looks at the time and pulls away. You stand there feeling embarrassed, with everyone's eyes on you, you disassociate. Your hands grow cold even though you're sweating, music making you overwhelmed, but you just can't move.

Only when you feel Buckys hands on you, you're pulled back to reality. He starts leading you to the table where your cake stands, everyone starts clapping and singning happy birthday, the candles on the cake burning, their light reflecting in your teary eyes.

No one notices that they're not tears of joy, because why would they? It's your birthday you can't be sad on your special day.

You blow out the candles, and as soon as the cake is cut, you run outside to take a breath of fresh air in hopes of it calming you down.

You're not outside for long before you hear two familiar voices talking.

"Do you have to go? It's still early." Buckys voice echoes though the empty alley way, where the exit from the place is. He doesn't notice you sitting away in the corner on some empty wooden boxes, despite his senses.

"I gotta go. Tomorrow same time?" Sharon replies and Bucky nods and waves goodbye, she sits down in the uber and drives away....

You sit there trying to process this, trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head, it doesn't mean anything, but you know that's not true and you're done.

The time flies and it's time to go home, and on the way to the apartment you barely say anything, which Bucky takes as you being tired.

But as soon as you step into the apartment you finally ask

"How long have you been fucking Sharon?"

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Bucky still doesn't look at you and tries to brush you off but you weren't having it, so you pull him by the shirt.

"Look at me,when you're talking to me!" you say through gritted teeth before noticing a row hickeys on Buckys neck making you drop the shirt instantly.

You're speechless, your hand covers your mouth trying to hold off the sob that was about to escape.

Bucky also stays unmoving not knowing how to get out of this, he didn't mean to,it wasn't supposed to happen.

The first time it happened it was after one of the work parties, he was drunk, Sharon was drunk and mistakes were made. He planned on telling you but he just couldn't. You're too kind too sweet and didn't deserve to have your heart broken.

It was eating him up, but he couldn't let you find out, so after finishing a report he goes to Sharon's office to tell her that what happened the night before was a mistake and wouldn't happen again, he asked her to keep the secret from everyone. However he had found himself once again in her bed, and it just never stopped.

It's not that Bucky didn't love you, he did or that's what he kept telling himself. He didn't mean for it to go this far but now it's too late.

"I'm sorry." Bucky finally says after deafening silence that's been going on for far too long.

You're still frozen in place not knowing what to do. Bucky is the man you thought you would marry, spend the rest of your life with. You were sure he was the one, all the smiles and laughs he gave you, the late night kisses, the pillow forts, the promises.... Everything crashing down on you all at once.

"How long? Please tell me the truth, you owe me that much." Your voice just above a whisper.

"Four months."

Buckys answer doesn't surprise you, but it does break you. You don't say anything just nod and start to pack your bags. Bucky doesn't do anything to stop you, he just stays out of your way. And you leave without another word.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

/month later/

It took a while for you to get used to living alone, since you've been living with Bucky for the last 3 years. You hadn't had the time to mourn the loss of you relationship as you were too busy adjusting.

There were unfortunately things you had yet to pick up from yours and Buckys place, and today was the day you're finally going back, for the first time since that day.

As much as it hurt you to go back you really needed your stuff. You text Bucky you're close and he replies with an okay. If you had kept your key the night you left you wouldn't have to see him but alas.

"Hey." Bucky openes the door and greets you, but you just walk past him towards the bedroom.

"I hadn't touched anything. I haven't even slept in our bed." you cringe at the words *our bed* but still say nothing.

Bucky hovers around the door watching you pack, which makes you nervous, not an emotion you ever thought would be caused by him.

"Are you still with her?" you shamefully ask while picking up a dress Bucky got you for your first anniversary, deciding it was better not to bring it.

"Yeah." Bucky says quietly opting not to lie, even though you wish he had lied.

"That's nice. I'm sure that's suitable." you reply swallowing hard.

It doesn't take more than half an hour to pack the rest of your stuff, you pick up the suit case and look around, your heart breaking more every passing second.

Bucky asks if you need help, you deny it quickly and head for the door.

As soon as door opens, you walk out without turning around or saying goodbye. He doesn't deserve it and you both know it.

|the end|

part 2

hope you enjoyed <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan characters #bucky fic #bucky masterlist #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky fanfic

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asahicore · 1 year

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gorgeous - lhs

"you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you / and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room" - gorgeous by taylor swift

series masterlist - part one - part two - part three

prompt 45 of the 100 kisses list, "we shouldn't do this" but they do so anyway

pairing. best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. Heeseung comes back from his first year of university a new man - forget nervous, fidgety, dorky Heeseung and say hello to confident, teasing, flirty Heeseung. This change of attitude doesn't help your longstanding crush on your best friend's brother, and neither does the rising tension between the two of you - a tension that is bound to explode. genre. f2l, did i mention this was a best friend's brother au?, only fluff in this part but more to come, perhaps suggestive due to tension between reader and hee and makeout session lol word count. 8.1k (yes an asahicore fic under 10k thank u very much) a/n. hi loves i'm super happy to be posting this bc its the very first fic out of the 100 kisses event and its a project im really excited about !!! i know i said like 2 days ago it'd take me a while to write this but i got super motivated over the weekend and it turned out shorter than i thought and bestie @k-ingzo zo did a super amazing job at beta reading this so i was able to post it really quickly !! anyways hope you enjoy this, pls lmk,, and hope u look forward to the rest of the series as well !! ok bye

Nine years ago

“Y/N, honey, come meet your new friends!”

You rushed down the stairs at your mom’s call - at eight, you were always excited by the idea of new friends. She’d also called Naeun down, but lately, your sister had been acting like doing anything your parents asked her would cost her her life.

There in your living room were four unfamiliar faces, but your parents were smiling warmly, so you weren’t too nervous. Instinctively, you found your mother’s side and she rested her hand on your head, bending down to talk to you.

“Y/N, these are the Lees, they’ve just moved to the neighborhood.”

“Hi,” you greeted shyly, and were met with four hi’s in return.

“Heeseung and Seeun here started going to the same school as you,” she informs, nodding her head towards the young boy and girl. Now that she said it, the boy looked really familiar. You thought you recognized him from school that day - his glasses were definitely memorable. “And Seeun is the exact same age as you!” Your face lit up at that, and her expression mirrored yours as her lips curled into a smile. “Why don’t you show her your room?”

“Sure! Come on,” you said, holding out your hand for Seeun to take. She looked back at her parents who were nodding vigorously at her to follow you. You just played for half-an-hour, and Heeseung joined you quickly, saying he was bored with the adults downstairs. He didn’t talk much, instead found some of your toys to play with in his own corner.

When the Lees left, you were thinking two things: one, you couldn’t wait to tell Chaeyeong about Seeun, and two, that boy with the big glasses was really, really cute.

Now

“Seeun, why the hell didn’t you tell us that your brother is a mega-hottie now?!”

This is what your friend Chaeyeong whisper-screams in lieu of a greeting as she barges in Seeun’s room, plopping down on her bed like it was her own. It might as well have been, considering how long the three of you had known each other.

“If you ever refer to my brother as a mega-hottie again, I’m terminating this friendship,” Seeun replies, not bothering to look up from the bead bracelet she was currently making.

“Oh please, just because you’re his sister doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed how attractive he’s gotten,” Chaeyeong insists, but it just makes Seeun scrunch her nose in disgust.

“Chaeyeong, please stop making it so obvious you’re an only child,” Seeun sighs. You let out a giggle at your friends’ conversation as you search for another color that could go well with the pink beads you’d chosen for your own bracelet.

Stealthily, Chaeyeong leaves her spot on the bed and sneaks up to you. “Y/N!” she exclaims suddenly, wrapping her arms around your shoulders in a sneak-attack hug that makes you yelp. It makes you drop your half-finished bracelet, the beads falling all over the carpeted floor around you. You look up at Chaeyeong with a pout, but she just smiles at you and starts picking up the beads, gathering the tiny pink jewels in the palm of her hand.

“Y/N, you’re with me on this one, aren’t you?”

You ignore Seeun’s side-eye and give in to Chaeyeong’s encouraging expression. “I guess he does look very…” you pause to carefully consider your word choice. “Different,” you settle on.

“Different? That’s it? Y/N, you should really consider getting some glasses, seeing how you’re so blind to hot boys.” Cue a loud groan, Seeun’s courtesy. You just giggle again, slightly shaking your head at Chaeyeong’s antics. She rolled her eyes, disappointed that you didn’t back her up, but she drops the subject and switches to Seeun’s upcoming birthday party. Something great about being generally quiet? People don’t question it when you don’t partake much in a conversation. You listen and laugh as your friends bicker, but your mind is on something else.

Or rather, it’s on someone else.

Because Chaeyeong is absolutely right - Seeun’s brother has glowed up so much during his time away at university that you had a double-take when he opened the door for you earlier.

The sentence this is so unfair plays over and over in your head.

You’d heard of the freshman fifteen, of college first-years being so stressed over grades and having so little time that their diet consisted of instant ramen, quick cafeteria lunches, and an ungodly amount of coffee. And alcohol, on Friday nights, of course. After seeing how freshman year treated your older sister, you were dreading going to college, imagining it to be the complete opposite of what TV and movies had shown you.

So how the hell had Lee Heeseung gone from high school loser to campus hearthrob in the span of a mere nine months? (After some thinking, you realized that, well, if a woman can create a whole human being in nine months, maybe a regular guy can undergo great physical and mental change in that time, too.)

In September, when you’d last seen him, he wore the same glasses he had for all of high school - those slightly crooked ones that made his eyes look even bigger than they already were. He always had to push them back up his nose but he never bothered to get them fixed, even though all they needed was for the arms to be tightened. You remember his tic-like habit of readjusting his glasses, a habit so strong that he did it even when he wasn’t wearing them. Maybe they bothered him so much that he decided to get rid of them once and for all, you guess.

Indeed, when he greeted you at his front door earlier (even after years of knowing Seeun and her family and no matter how much they reassure you that it’s okay, you’re unable to come in without knocking first, like Chaeyeong does), he wasn’t wearing his thick lenses you’d grown fond of. His eyes didn’t look unfocused like they usually would without glasses, so you assumed he’d switched to contact lenses - you knew it wasn’t Lasik surgery, because Seeun was always complaining that her parents wouldn’t pay for her or her brother to receive it.

But it wasn’t just the glasses, of course not. There was an ease and confidence about him that he didn’t have before - no awkward giggles, no darting eyes, no weirdly positioned limbs. He held the door open for you and kept his eyes on you as you walked in, saying it was nice to see you again and asking if you were happy to be done with high school. You already weren’t expecting Heeseung to open the door in Seeun’s stead, so him actually looking at you while he spoke instead of mumbling a few words in your general direction and scratching the back of his neck rendered you completely flustered, cheeks heating up embarrassingly quickly.

His hair was different: it used to sit there atop Heeseung’s head, unsure what to do with itself, but now it was purposefully cut and slightly pushed back. When he turned his head, you saw something shiny dangling from his left ear.

Heeseung had a piercing. Shy, nervous, fidgety electronics club president Heeseung had a goddamn piercing, and it looked amazing.

And then he laughed. He actually had the audacity to laugh, and then ruffle your hair. You could’ve died right then and there. “You’re still just as cute as before,” he mused, beaming down at you. Then he walked away towards the living room, saying Seeun was in her room upstairs. As if nothing happened. As if you weren’t on the verge of combusting, your saving grace being your friend’s voice calling out your name. You ran up the stairs, wanting to get as far away from Heeseung and his smile and his voice and his touch as possible. You busied yourself with the pearls and the small bracelet-making station Seeun had organized, trying not to think about the vein that ran down his forearm or about how his shoulders looked wider than before. And you’d managed to do that, until Chaeyeong brought him up.

It wasn’t unfair because he’d grown mysteriously hot - it was unfair because to you, Heeseung had always been the cutest boy around, but now other people had surely noticed too, Chaeyeong amongst them. Now, you were just one of the many girls that had a crush on Heeseung, even if yours dated back to the first time you’d met him when the Lees moved into the neighborhood.

Their parents had been delighted that two girls of their daughter’s age - eight, to be precise - lived on their street. You were delighted that the cute boy you’d seen at school that day was her big brother, just one year older. Chaeyeong and you gladly welcomed Seeun into your friendship and you had each other’s back through the awkward phases of your early teenage years and the stressful times as high school seniors getting ready for college. You shared everything - clothes, jewelry, homework answers, gossip, tears, laughter. Secrets.

You liked to think there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about them, but you couldn’t say the opposite was true - there was a secret you had to keep from them. A secret that grew bigger and bigger as time passed, but that you needed to keep locked in.

You had the biggest crush known to mankind on your best friend’s brother. It was either keep quiet or tell both of your friends; you trusted Chaeyeong, but you didn’t want her to carry that burden. You had no idea what Seeun’s reaction would be if you admitted you liked her brother, but you didn’t want to risk it. Every best friend’s brother (or brother’s best friend) romance you’d read had told you that the former was always against and deeply disgusted by the idea of their friend dating the latter. The last thing you wanted to do was make things weird, so you said nothing and suffered in silence, as one does. And so, for years, Heeseung was your little secret.

But not anymore, apparently. And it felt unfair. You didn’t have much of a chance to begin with, but now, getting with Heeseung was inimaginable. You’d just have to continue pining from far away, just as you’d gotten used to.

Four years ago

Your heart pounded as you made your way to the bus stop, steps heavy and head full of thoughts. Even though your older sister told you there’s nothing to worry about, you couldn’t help it. You were used to walking to school, not taking the bus. After three years of seeing the same people roaming the hallways, it was nerve-wracking to arrive at a place where most faces would be completely unfamiliar. You didn’t know what your teachers would be like, you were scared your classes would be a hundred times harder than before, you heard the cafeteria food was really bad. In short, you were absolutely dreading high school. And today was your first day.

The only thing that calmed you down was knowing that in a few minutes, you’d be with Seeun and Chaeyeong, and just seeing them would make you feel instantly better. You were meeting at the bus stop.

But when you reached it, neither of your friends were there. You shouldn’t have been surprised, since you’d come ten minutes early, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. That is, until you recognized someone else.

“Heeseung?” you called out before you could stop yourself. The boy snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. Simple things like that made your heart burst with adoration for him.

“Oh, h-hi, Y/N.” He smiled the shy smile you loved so much and looked back at his feet, holding on tightly to the straps of his backpack. You stood next to him, close enough to have a conversation if he wanted to but not so close that it’d be weird.

Heeseung was the only person you felt awkward around. Even though you were on the quieter side and strangers weren’t your favorite people per se, being around people you didn’t know well wasn’t your definition of torture like it seemed to be for Heeseung and other kids from your school. But Heeseung’s awkwardness was contagious, and your crush on him didn’t help your ease of mind - so you imitated his posture, swaying back and forth on your feet as you held onto your backpack straps just to have something to hold onto. You smiled at the ground, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by looking at him, but that meant you missed the growing blush on his cheeks.

“So,” he started, “nervous?” He glanced quickly, just once, at you. You were so surprised at his breaking the silence, used to a quiet Heeseung, that you forgot to answer, simply staring at him. His panicked expression and mumblings were what jolted you out of your daze. “I-I mean, you know, cause it’s your first day and everything, and I was really nervous last year- I am today, too, actually- so I thought maybe, you know, you’re nervous too, but maybe you’re not, I don’t-”

He said all of this so quickly, you started laughing, slightly bending over. He let out a chuckle too, but as you continued laughing, a pout started to form on his lips. “What’s so funny…” you heard him grumble as he kicked a non-existent pebble.

“Sorry,” you said, regaining your breath. “I’m sorry, Heeseung.” The sound of his name made him glance at you again. You wished you could kiss the pout off his lips. “I was nervous, actually. But I feel better now.”

A quick smile appeared on his lips, but he willed it away. “I’m glad my embarrassment made you feel better,” he sighed.

You gently kicked his shoe with yours to make him look at you. “No, it’s because you made me laugh. I needed it. Thanks,” you corrected with a smile. Heeseung may have made you feel awkward, but the easiness with which he always got flustered made you love to tease him slightly.

His smile widened as he looked away once more, the blush having spread to his whole face by then. “Whatever,” he murmured. There was no time to say anything else because Seeun called out your name, practically skipping towards you.

She gave you an excited hug as a greeting before turning towards her brother with a glare, punching him hard on the bicep, making him wince in pain and reach his hand to cover his arm where she hit him. “Thanks for waiting for me, loser.”

“You were gonna make us late!” he whined, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, ‘cause I obviously missed the bus,” she tutted.

You watched the siblings with an amused smile, used to the exact same kind of banter at home. Your sister, who was in her last year of high school, had decided not to drive you for some reason only an older sister could make up and pretend was reasonable. Your parents had tried to convince her, but you didn’t mind taking the bus with your friends, so they didn’t push it, just glad they could somehow keep the both of you happy.

Heeseung didn’t say anything in return. Your eyes met for a moment, and his frown relaxed into a smile when he caught your expression. It lasted a second but it was enough to make your stomach twist. Seeun, oblivious, grabbed your arm and started telling you about all the things she was excited about for today. You were worried Chaeyeong wasn’t going to make it, but her footsteps were loud as she ran, reaching you just as the bus stopped in front of you. Heeseung took what you soon found out was his usual spot at the front of the bus while your friends dragged you towards the back of it. You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards the boy with the messy black hair and crooked glasses, but his shy smile replayed in your mind all day. For a year, you’d gotten used to not going to the same school as him - you didn’t know how you’d survive seeing him at least five days a week once again.

Now

You were really determined to not let Heeseung’s newfound confidence sway you, physically shaking your head every time a thought of him popped in your head (useless) and racking your brain for reasons you shouldn’t like him (not many of those). There was just one teeny, tiny problem.

He was making it impossible to pine for him at a distance.

It seemed like everywhere you went, he was there. Maybe that was due to the fact that your most frequently visited place was literally his house, but still. It was frustrating. You didn’t need to be met with his stupid smile whenever he opened the door for you, you didn’t need to catch him cutely napping - how was that even possible?! - in the living room, a random sitcom still playing on the TV, you didn’t need to hear his laughter when his friends were over, and you definitely did not need to see him half-naked as he came out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower and sticking to his forehead, towel wrapped low around his hips and his abs fully on display. Because of course, you had to be in the hallway, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, at the exact same time as him.

You almost start to resent the fact that Seeun had the comfiest bedroom out of the three of you, as well as the most snack-filled house, which was why you had decided years ago to hang out there the most. Especially during school breaks, you were there almost every day, so you were bound to see Heeseung a lot. But for some reason, that didn’t seem to be enough, and over the course of June, you also ran into him while shoe-shopping with your mom, then another time as you entered the public library just when he left it, and another when your friends and his had decided to get ice cream at the same time. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

The worst part? Every time he saw you, while you simultaneously wanted to run away from him and into his arms, his damnedly handsome face broke into a stupidly beautiful smile that looked far too genuine for your heart. “Y/N! Funny seeing you here!”

No, Heeseung, not funny.

You didn’t want to be that girl whose brain cells stopped working whenever she encountered an attractive male specimen, but that was apparently who you were meant to be, because all words left you when you saw Heeseung. Although you’d been somewhat flustered around him in the past, he was always much more so than you, which reassured you and gave you enough confidence to actually talk to him. But now that he had realized how handsome he was and was clearly using that newfound knowledge against you (or so you thought), you were unable to string a coherent sentence when his shiny eyes bore into yours.

You think he might’ve sensed your awkwardness, because he never lingered, never made useless small talk, just asked about your favorite ice cream flavor or the book he’d checked out, patted your head, then was on his way.

There were so many butterflies in your stomach, you were scared it might fly away.

One afternoon in the middle of July, you and your friends come back from the city pool completely exhausted after playing around for hours in the water. All bundled up and close together, you try to nap on Seeun’s bed. Keyword try, because even though your friends’ soft snores quickly start to fill the silence of the room, you can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how heavy your eyes feel.

Quietly, you get out of bed and head downstairs to the kitchen, hoping a cold glass of water will help sleep come to you like it usually does. You shouldn’t be surprised to see Heeseung in the dining room/kitchen area, busy with a puzzle, the pieces of which he’s spread out all over the table, but your heart still does a flip. He must be really engrossed in it, because he doesn’t notice your presence in the room until you fill a glass with ice, the sudden sound making his head snap up at you. You hate that his face breaks into a grin as soon as he sees you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! What are you doing?”

“Just getting some water,” you explain, raising your glass with a small smile. Your whole body tells you to run away, back to Seeun’s bedroom, but something in your gut tells you to stay, to get closer to Heeseung. So you do. “What about you?” you ask, slowly making your way towards the table and peering at the puzzle in progress.

“Just whipping up some brownies,” he retorts with a devilish smirk, big eyes looking up at you.

You fight back a smile in vain. “Shut up,” you mumble, but take a seat next to him anyway. He seems slightly taken aback by the sudden proximity, and you are too, but you keep your gaze focused on the puzzle in front of you so that you can’t think too much about how close you’re sitting, and how your knees could touch if you angled them just so.

For a small while you sit in silence, watching as he puts pieces together and even finding a couple of your own. It’s a one-thousand piece jigsaw that he’s clearly only just started, but Heeseung doesn’t seem fazed by that. You like seeing how his eyebrows slightly furrow when he’s searching for a particular piece, and the pleased smirk that graces his lips when he finds it. You break the silence after a few minutes.

“So you still like puzzles, then?” you ask, voice low. You’ve always been told you speak quietly - even too quietly sometimes, but you can’t always help it. Especially in situations like this, when it’s silent around you anyways, you don’t see the point of raising your voice. When Heeseung replies, he speaks at the same volume as you, and there’s something comforting about it, about speaking quietly in such a spacious and sunlit room - the words you share are for you two, and you two only.

“Yep, ever since that day.” He glances quickly at you and smiles at the piece in his hand, and it’s like getting a glimpse of the Heeseung you had known all those years. Your heart warms at the sight.

“That day?”

This makes him look properly at you, his eyes darting back and forth between yours as if searching for something there. Your heart is now on fire. “Don’t you remember?”

You tilt your head in response and he turns his attention back to the puzzle. “It was at this table, too. I think your grandparents- your grandma, I think? Anyway, someone had gotten you a puzzle for your birthday.”

You ‘ah’ in realization. “Of course!”

Two years ago

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this, it’s so complicated,” Seeun pouted apologetically, looking at you sadly. “We’ve been here like an hour and we’ve barely gotten anywhere.”

Chaeyeong, head on the table, groaned in agreement. You followed your friend’s gaze to the puzzle in front of you - she was right, you hadn’t made much progress. But you liked it. The picture was pretty and you’d like to see it completed, but more than that, you liked finding the right piece, figuring out strategies.

You hummed, mirroring Seeun’s pout. Chaeyeong snapped her head back up to look at you. You’d think she hadn’t slept in days, but that was just bored Chaeyeong. You loved your friend and her over-dramatic antics. “Can we just take a break?” she asked, tone like you’d kidnapped and forced her to do this.

“You guys go ahead.” You smiled. “I like it, I can just continue this for a while and you guys do whatever you want.” The three of you spent so much time together that you didn’t need to be doing an activity together to be happy - being in each other’s general vicinity was enough to be considered a hang-out.

“You sure?” Seeun asked.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You chuckled at the obvious relief on your friend’s faces. “Just don’t watch the next Extraordinary You episode without me, okay?”

They both gasped and clutched their hearts like you’d accused them of murder. “How could you even think that, Y/N?!” Chaeyeong exclaimed.

“We would never!” Seeun added.

You shook your head at your friends’ antics, laughing as you waved them off. “Just go, already.”

“Yes, ma’am!” And with that, they were off, running up the stairs to Seeun’s bedroom.

You were only on your own for around ten minutes - the front door opened and closed, and the quiet shuffle of shoes being taken off and replaced with slippers let you know Heeseung had just come home. Seeun always made a show of being exhausted after school, groaning as she threw her backpack to the ground, while Mr and Mrs Lee always announced their arrival with a sometimes cheery, sometimes tired ‘I’m home!’. But Heeseung, quiet as always, simply set his backpack next to the stairs, slipped into his slippers and made his way to the kitchen, fond of a quick snack after school. Even Chaeyeong made herself more known when she entered the Lee household.

Every day except for Fridays, he came home two hours later than his sister because of either magic or electronics club (yes, magic club. It was cute, okay?!). You always looked forward to the monthly meeting of the book club you were in, partly because it meant you could take the bus back with Heeseung afterwards. Even if the ride was usually mainly silent, just sitting next to him was enough for your heart to do all sorts of tricks worthy of an Olympic gymnast.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he greeted softly, probably surprised at seeing you alone at the dinner table.

“Hi, Heeseung. How was the electronics club?” You wanted to make conversation, but you winced immediately at your words - was it normal for you to know what club he had on what days?

But Heeseung seemed to pay it no mind, just smiling shyly, a blush already creeping on his cheeks. “It was nice, thanks.” He opened the fridge, taking out a carton of milk. “Do you want a glass?” When you didn’t respond immediately, he was quick to add, “Of milk? O-or orange juice? Or I can make some tea, if you want-”

His hands were already busy with preparing whatever drink he thought you might want. You held back a chuckle and smiled as you answered, “Milk is fine, thanks.”

His blush spread all the way down his neck and you turned your attention back to the puzzle so he wouldn’t see your grin. “Right, milk. Milk,” he stammered, then got two glasses out of the cupboard.

You loved moments like these with Heeseung - flustered, light-hearted, slightly awkward, moments that made you want to giggle out of nerves and delight. Basically every moment with him was like this, so it’d be more accurate to say you loved every moment with him.

“I didn’t know you liked puzzles,” he said, an upward tilt to his voice, as he set your glass next to you and took a seat across from you. He peered down at the pieces spread out in front of you, fixed his glasses on his nose, and took a big gulp of milk.

“I didn’t either,” you said with a chuckle, and stammered out an explanation when he looked up at you questioningly. “My, um, my grandma gave this to me for my birthday last month. She’s got a lot of grandkids, you know, and I think she might’ve mixed up my other cousin who likes puzzles and me…” Heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips tugging up in amusement. “But I don’t mind it,” you add, “I’m having fun, actually. Seeun and Chaeyeong are of a different mind, though. It’s a bit hard doing it on my own but I like it anyway.”

“I can help you,” he suddenly blurted out, and he looked just as surprised at his words as you were. “If you want.”

You smiled at him, and Heeseung and you actually looked at each other, actually held eye contact for three seconds, until you felt your face burn and had to look away. “Sure, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Although it took some time to finish the puzzle - putting 500 pieces together was a lot trickier than you thought it’d be - Heeseung and you managed to do it, high fiving celebratorily after almost two hours of hard work.

Now

“I just had a lot of fun that day.” Heeseung shrugs. “Plus, I already liked things like Legos and Rubik’s cubes, so it made sense I’d like puzzles, too.”

You nod in response, watching as he twirls a puzzle piece between his thumb and middle finger. “It’s funny that my grandma’s mistake is what made you discover your love for puzzles.”

Heeseung chuckles along with you, and you’re relieved the atmosphere is somewhat lighter than before until he looks straight into your eyes, locking your gaze in his own, and a breath gets trapped in your throat. “I’m glad she did that, otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded, mouth agape, when he looks away with a smirk and turns his attention back to the puzzle, analyzing it seriously as if nothing happened. You come back to your senses after a few seconds, clearing your throat before imitating Heeseung and trying to focus on the puzzle once again. But that’s hard to do when your hands brush ever-so-slightly every time you fumble around the pile for a particular piece, or every time he hits your knee with his, inadvertently or to tease you, you’re not sure.

The first thing to do when starting a puzzle is looking for all the side pieces to build the frame. When Heeseung spots one in the pile next to you, he leans in to grab it, and he’s suddenly close enough for you to get a whiff of his cologne that had faded over the day. You think he’ll just take the piece and sit back in his seat, but instead, he turns his head towards you, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. Close enough that it wouldn’t be hard to close the gap and have your lips on his - just as the thought hits you, his eyes drift down to your parted lips. Is he thinking the same thing?

You take a sharp breath in, eyes fixed on Heeseung, mind racing with thoughts and assumptions of what might be going through his head right now. But your brain goes haywire when a smirk blooms on his lips, clearly enjoying your reaction. His gaze finds your eyes once more and he raises the piece between the two of you, in the small space that separates you. “Got it,” he says quietly, voice lower than usual. It makes your insides melt. He could be very well talking about you - he’s got you absolutely wrapped around his finger, and he seems to know it.

He turns back to the puzzle, smirk still on his lips, and you’re so embarrassed and confused that your flight instinct kicks in. The screech of your chair as you push it back and stand up makes Heeseung look up at you again, his smirk having dissolved in surprise and - disappointment?

No time to ponder, you need to get. out. of. here.

“Right, well, that was fun, haha,” you breathe out, actually saying the word ‘haha’ and wanting to run away even more thereafter. “I should probably head back to the girls, now.” You’re already backing up and walking away when Heeseung calls out your name, but you just turn around and rush back upstairs, yelling out a small “bye, Heeseung!” on your way.

You’re already back in Seeun’s bedroom when Heeseung shakes his head at your sudden disappearance, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Cute,” he says under his breath.

To minimize any chances of running into Heeseung, over the next two weeks, you ask Chaeyeong and Seeun if you could hang out at your house more often, using the excuse that you want to spend as much time as possible there before leaving off to college. They don’t question it too much - next year, they’ll be able to come back fairly regularly to their parent’s houses, since the college they’re going to is less than an hour-long car ride away, but you’ll be further away, too far to come back home often.

It just so happens to be the university Heeseung is studying at, but you don’t need to worry about that right now. They had one of the best English Lit programs in your area and you’d been wanting to go there for all of your high school years - you used to think of Heeseung’s going there as a pro, but right now, it felt more like a con.

You manage to only run into him twice over the course of those two weeks, and both times, just in passing. But now it’s the night of Seeun’s birthday party and it’s impossible to pretend he isn’t there even when you’re in a crowded room together. Heeseung and Seeun’s parents have lended their house for their kids to have a party there, using it as an opportunity to have a date night, and Heeseung and his friends have graciously provided a big portion of the alcohol, saying it was their birthday gift.

You aren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, so you opt for the fruitier, lighter drinks, but still, two hours after the party starts, you can already feel your head start to spin, your voice is louder, everything makes you laugh. When a friend from school tells you they’re playing seven minutes in heaven in the hallway upstairs, you think that's the funniest thing you’ve ever heard and immediately agree to join.

The sight of Heeseung sitting in the circle, already looking at you with a lopsided smile, almost sobers you up completely.

You’d tried to avoid him as best as you could, but it was like you couldn’t escape him - maybe that was due to the fact that the heart of the party was kept to the kitchen and the living room, just a few people sitting on the stairs at the entrance to get away from the noise, but still, it annoyed you to no end that you had to keep seeing him everywhere. Maybe that was also what made the alcohol easier to down.

At some point, you were in the kitchen, doing a shot of God-knows-what with girls from school. You heard his voice before you saw him, and it made you roll your eyes but also your heart skip a beat. “Didn’t know you were such a drinker, Y/N.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and when his face came into view, you wanted to slap it away. Or kiss it away, maybe.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to have fun,” you retorted, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you poured yourself another shot. I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas started playing in the next room and the girls shrieked before rushing to the made-up dancefloor. You wanted to join them, but something kept your feet firmly planted at the kitchen counter.

Before you could bring the shot glass to your lips, however, Heeseung stole it from you and downed it himself. “Hey!” you protested, but it was done, and he was scrunching his nose at the bitter taste, shaking his head. You wished he could stop being attractive for one damn second.

“You don’t need that to have fun.”

He placed his forearms on the kitchen counter and leaned on them, forcing him to look up at you. You had no idea what the hell he meant by that, nor did you want to try and figure it out - all you knew was that you couldn��t stay there with him when he looked at you so intently, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, hair perfectly disheveled and biceps apparent even under his t-shirt sleeves.

“You’re right, I don’t,” you made yourself say, and spun on your heels to join your friends on the dancefloor.

And a few drinks later, here you are, sitting in a circle on the hallway floor, Heeseung right in front of you, leaning back on his palms and looking down at you with that same stupid smirk once again.

The game goes as such: one person spins the bottle twice, and the people it lands on have to go to a bedroom closet for seven minutes (timed carefully by Jake, Heeseung’s friend who is taking this game very seriously) to do whatever they want, while the others occupy themselves with other games. When the seven minutes are up, the doors burst open, and you have to leave the closet.

And because it wouldn’t be any fun otherwise, after a few rounds, the bottle points straight at you, then straight at Heeseung, and before you know it, everyone except for Seeun is cheering, and Heeseung is holding out his hand for you to take, and you do, and he raises you up, and together, you head to his closet, as per the rules of this stupid middle-school game you should never have agreed to play in the first place. You can barely Seeun’s voice as she shouts, “Y/N, I trust you!”, which just makes Chaeyeong burst into laughter and whoop louder for you. You’d also barely registered Heeseung’s friends clapping each other’s backs, smiling like they were in on something.

The sound of the closet door shutting is what snaps you out of your daze. You hadn’t even realized Heeseung had kept your hand in his until he released it, leaning his back against one wall of the closet, facing you. All three bedrooms in the Lees’ house had built-in walk-in closets which meant you weren’t sandwiched between Heeseung and his clothes, but still, you wished you could put more distance between your two bodies - one step closer, and you were done for.

It wasn’t just Heeseung’s presence in the narrow space - it was his scent filling your nostrils, the combined smell of the cologne he was wearing, of the fabric softener on his clothes, and an unfamiliar scent you somehow recognized as unique to Heeseung, his skin, his hair, smells you’d wanted to discover for years but never got close enough to. Well, now you did. And it was intoxicating - you wanted more, wanted to bury your face in the crook of his neck and inhale. You wanted to know what his reaction would be, if he’d let you, if he’d push you away.

All those thoughts were running wild in your head. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your stomach was in messy knots, your hands were sweaty and you had no idea where to place them, your eyes wouldn’t stop darting around the dark room. Everywhere but Heeseung. You could feel his eyes on you, but you were too nervous to meet them.

Your breathing must’ve gotten loud enough for him to hear, because all of a sudden, you feel his hand take yours, and he’s stood up from his position against the wall, his body too close to yours for your heart to handle. His thumb rubs what he must think are comforting semi-circles on the back of your hand, but the touch just destroys any capability of thinking straight you had left.

“Y/N,” he calls out, and the sound of his voice makes your eyes close shut. You cannot give in. You had seen Seeun’s disgusted expression when you and Heeseung were picked for the game - if just the idea of you and her brother kissing repulses her, what would she say if she knew it actually happened, or if you started dating? You may have the biggest crush ever on Heeseung, but no one was worth losing your friendship with Seeun.

“Calm down,” he says, and you wish you could be as steady as his voice. “There’s no reason to be nervous.”

This makes you scoff. “You touching me is not helping my nervousness.” The words are out before you can stop them, and in the darkness of the room, you have to concentrate to make out the tilt of Heeseung’s head. You don’t need to see it to know he’s smiling, the satisfied smirk that has been gracing his features for the past month and a half.

“Yeah? Why is that?”

You take your hand out of Heeseung’s and cross your arms over your chest. “You know why,” you say, not intending your voice to come out as weak as it does.

Heeseung takes another step closer to you, and the only ray of light that comes through the panels of the closet door hits his face, making it visible for you to see. “I do, but I want you to tell me.” Another step, making you back up until you hit the wall behind you.

You call out his name shakily. His lips are right in front of you at this point, and you can’t not look at them.

He places a hand delicately on your waist, as if not wanting to scare you off. “Yeah?” He’s so close now that you can feel his breath fanning on your lips.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you say, and finally, your voice is strong like you want it to - but Heeseung isn’t deterred by it.

“Do what?” he asks, pretending to be stupid. “We haven’t done anything. Not yet.” He adds the last part in a whisper, his eyes drifting down to your lips, and you can feel your resolve crumbling piece by piece, the opposite of completing a puzzle.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you whisper back, voice almost pleading with him. Stop this before it’s too late, you want to tell him, but for some reason, at this point, you’re more scared of nothing happening than something happening.

“I do, but I want you to tell me,” he repeats, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Laughing helps relieve the tension, but it’s back as quickly as it left when his hold on your waist gets tighter, bringing you closer to him. Your hands that had fallen to your side come up to grab the sides of his t-shirt, gathering the fabric in your fists. There’s no going back now, you can tell - you wait for Heeseung to make a move, both dreading it and craving the relief that will come with it.

Heeseung’s free hand comes up to your face, and he traces your jawline with a knuckle before taking your chin in two of his fingers, gently raising it so that your face is angled up towards him. His touch makes your skin burn and takes away your ability to breathe properly.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you repeat, voice barely audible, a weak and half-hearted attempt at stopping this now that you still can.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he agrees, and before you can say or do anything else, Heeseung presses his lips to yours, finally, finally.

His lips are just as soft as you’d expected them to be, and the kiss is light, slow, careful. You’re grateful for it, because you’re not a very experienced kisser - if Heeseung had plunged his tongue directly into your mouth, you wouldn’t have known what to do. It’s almost like he knows this, like he’s giving you time to figure it out, to get used to it. His hand snakes its way to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him, while the other cups your cheek with his palm. You, on the other hand, have completely forgotten about your hands, only able to focus on where your lips meet.

It’s easy to fall into Heeseung’s rhythm, to let him take control of the kiss. But maybe it’s too easy, because soon enough, you start to want more - as amazing as this is right now, a slow kiss like this is not enough to have dissolved the tension in your body. You remember your hands and inch them up to his hair, your fingers finding purchase there and slightly pulling as you open your mouth just a bit wider, hoping Heeseung will get the message.

For a second, you think you’ve got it all wrong - Heeseung pulls back an inch, peering down at you. You’re both breathing heavily, and you’re scared you might have gone too far. But then, he murmurs a small fuck under his breath, and just like that, his lips are back on yours, your back is pressed against the wall again, his body encaging your smaller one. The kiss now is nothing like it was seconds ago - it’s turned hungry, hot, messy. You love it.

You had no idea you would want to kiss Heeseung like this, but now that you were doing it, you couldn’t get enough. The intensity with which he held you, the feel of his tongue against yours, the small groans that escaped his lips every time you pulled on his hair, it was all making you more drunk than the alcohol had.

You swear you haven’t even been kissing for two minutes, but then, all of a sudden, the doors are snapped open, and light pours in the closet, and Heeseung’s lips aren’t on yours anymore. You hadn’t heard the timer go off, too engrossed in Heeseung to pay anything else any mind. When you turn your head, Chaeyeong and Jake are staring at you and Heeseung, mouths wide open and eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

“Oh. My. God,” Chaeyeong says, while Jake starts laughing. A shy smile appears on Heeseung’s lips, even plumper and pinker than usual from your kiss. His hair is a mess, and you’re sure you don’t look too different. He scratches the back of his neck, and you can’t believe this sheepish boy is the same that was kissing you roughly not a minute ago.

“Chaeyeong,” you cry out, voice already pleading as you take a step out of the closet and take both of her hands in yours. “Seeun can’t know about this.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise but nods her head in agreement, and you’ve never been so thankful for your friend as now.

“Would she really mind?” Jake asks, looking at you, then at his friend. You turn to look at Heeseung behind you, who purses his lips.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling she would… She’s always told me she didn't want me hanging out with her friends,” Heeseung says, and you and Chaeyeong exchange a look; this was news to both of you.

You have no further time to discuss it, however, because Seeun’s voice calling out your name and Heeseung’s make all four of you widen your eyes. Chaeyeong fixes your clothes and hair as best as she can, then smiles at you reassuringly and nods, prompting you to imitate her. She ushers Heeseung into his bathroom and tells him to “freshen up or whatever,” and you, Jake and Chaeyeong leave the room just as Seeun reaches the door.

“Where’s Heeseung?” she asks, not a trace of suspicion in her voice, peering behind you into her brother’s dark room.

“Just needed the toilet,” Jake answers quickly, and that seems to convince her.

She turns to you, an amused expression on her face. “Hope that wasn’t too awkward.”

You’re so surprised at your friend’s quickness to assume that nothing could happen between you and her brother, as if the idea was truly unfathomable to her, but you figure it’s for the best. You all head back into the party, Heeseung appearing some five minutes later. He scans the room for you, and when you make eye contact from across the crowded living room, he smiles, his shy, genuine smile that you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

You already miss him, you realize, his lips, his touch, his scent. That’s how you know that you’re in deep, deep shit.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines

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bartxnhood · 1 year

Text

teardrops on my guitar | l.h

luke hemmings x songwriter!fem!reader

summary: your feelings for your friend go unnoticed, but one night you finally told the world how you felt through your music.

warnings: unrequited love :’(, luke is one oblivious mf !, crying, angst.

a/n: 5sos stans and luke people this one is for you !!! everyone say thank you to the slaysos gc for this beautiful idea. AND YES THIS IS INSPIRED BY TAYLORS SONG. i hope i executed it to your desires. enjoy all my loves !! lyrics will be italicized. feedback is appreciated.

a/n pt2 ALSO this is in no way to hate on sierra, i just couldn’t think of anyone else SO PLS DONT THINK I HATE HER I LOVE HER SM.

read part two here !!

requests open

not proofread

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(this feels kinda rushed but i still hope u guys like it.)

you and luke had been close since grade school, always attached at the hip. wherever he went, you were right there with him. so, when he introduced you to the members of his new band they were forming you made it your mission to be friends with all of them.

whoever luke is friends with, you had to be friends with. it was your law of nature. and by luck, you had to find out you were one hell of a songwriter so of course luke kept you close even as the band took off. often you’d help them with songs. and you grew even closer with the boys, especially calum, creating a very close bond with the boy. only to realize, you had some feelings growing up for your blond best friend.

you don’t know what made you realize that you were indeed falling in love with luke hemmings. maybe it was when he’d lean in too closely and your breath would hitch, taking in all of his beauty, or, it was all of the times he made you laugh without effort.

whatever it was, you were slowly falling for him.

and as you did, 5 seconds of summer took off and were now on tour. it was unreal to you how they gained success but you couldn’t be more proud of the people they were becoming.

while they were out chasing their dreams, you decided to dip your toes into the industry and started to write the songs for your debut album. most of the songs were ways to express your feelings, and once released you did pretty well. a couple of your songs even charged for a few weeks.

time was flying by, you were growing to success following behind your friends.

soon, it was time for their tour and they approached you with the idea that you could open for them. when you first heard of the idea, you declined it. but, calum eventually talked some sense into you

your friendship with calum was a bit unexpected, luke said you’d probably get along with ashton the best, but he was wrong. calum became your right-hand man (behind luke of course). so, after you declined the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity calum talked to you.

“you should reconsider” he started, and you just shook your head. “calum” “no, listen to me” he pointed at you, “you’re good at what you do, you’re talented so please just consider opening for us. they guys want you on your, i want you on tour, y/n.” you stood with your hands on your hips. “okay. fine, i’ll do it. but just for you.” calum grinned.

tour started. it was magical, you were going to places you had never imagined you’d be. it was wonderful, and you continued to thank calum for talking to you and reconsidering. you were able to spend months with your best friends and the boy you were head over heels with.

during soundcheck, the boys would always come to mess around while you sang, oftentimes acting out your songs or ashton would casually drum.

it was memories you’d never forget, from interviews across the world to sleeping in hotels you’d sworn you wouldn’t stay in again. but most importantly, it was fun. you and luke had been closer than ever, thick as thieves. and then, it was coming to an end.

the last stop of the tour, you prepared for your set. your outfit was extravagant compared to previous stops, you wanted to change it up and make it more special. you were about to go on, but luke stopped you. “y/n?” you turned around, and he smiled “you look beautiful. knock ‘em dead, gorgeous.” you felt your cheeks warm up, “thanks, lu. i’ll see you after”

after the show, you met with him and he grabbed you into his arms so quickly. “you did amazing! that was the best show i’ve ever seen!” he spun you around, and you laughed. “thank you so much! that was amazing. that crowd is wonderful. you guys will have an amazing show.”

then a week away become a month, a month into a few, and eventually it had been well over a year since all of you actually had time to be together.

it was hard, because not only did you miss you friends but you missed your best friend, the one you loved most.

later, all of you found yourselves living in los angeles and so naturally you all became close again. hanging out every other weekend, and going back to your regular antics. everything was going well for 5 seconds of summer and yourself. you had made a name for yourself in the industry, especially after opening for their tour. you always thanked calum for talking some sense into your thick skull.

but, the more you were around luke, the harder it was to hide your feelings for him.

“y/n?” you jumped, eyes wandering up, and found luke who was standing over you. “guys want coffee, wanna go with me?” you closed your journal, nodding “sure” you smiled.

so, you sat in the car with him in the usual traffic of los angeles, on your phone with light music playing from the radio. “i’ve missed you” he said, you looked up, raising your eyebrow “you saw me last week, lu” “no, like in all the time we were away. i missed you, a lot. it wasn’t the same without you” you smiled, “i missed you too. but hey, we’re together now and i don’t plan on leaving anytime soon”

the car fell silent after, you returned to your phone and luke focused his attention back on the road for some time. “how’s writing going?” he asked, you turned off your phone and let it rest in your lap. “good, i have about half of my songs written. just kinda going through a phase, no inspiration, yknow?” he hummed, “oh, yeah i do” he laughed, looking at you. you smiled back.

there it was, that beautiful smile.

“you’ll get there, it’ll come one day and you’ll be writing for hours. i know how you are” you laughed, luke raised an eyebrow. “you’d know, i learned from the best” luke laughed, shaking his head. “you are something, y/n/n” he teased, “whatever, you love it” you retorted.

“oh, i do love it, and you” luke replied.

for the rest of the day, it was all you could think about. it was such a small thing but you just couldn’t help but get butterflies whenever you thought about it. but then you noticed all the times he was slowly coming around more and how close he would be towards you.

at first, it was subtle. maybe his state would linger just a bit too long, or he’d sit unusually close to you when there was the whole rest of the couch open. then, he began to see you on days you weren’t working together or hanging out with your typical friend group.

then, he’d start to hold your lower back if the two of you were in a public place. you had a little too much to drink that night? he was the first to take you home and stayed with you until you were okay on your own. luke was always glued to your hip, always holding your hand while rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, or his hand resting on your back. it was such a 180 from his usual behavior

everyone around you was talking about how good of a couple you two would be. saying, ‘oh, my god, you guys are like perfect for each other!’

could he possibly like you back?

youngblood was charting number one, so what does one do when one reaches such an achievement? party. ashton decided to hold a party at his place and everyone he knew was invited, including you. luke was your ‘date’ so, he was by your side most of the night like any other get-together. but this night changed things, for the worse.

ashton approached you, luke, and calum with someone following him. “guys!” the man yelled over the loud music. “this is sierra, a new friend of mine. wanted to introduce her” calum shook her hand, saying hello, then she got to you.

she shook your hand smiling, “hi! i’m such a fan, your music is amazing. you’re also so pretty in person!” you smiled, returning her kindness. “thank you so much!” but, when she got to luke you saw his eyes light up.

sierra was a nice girl, very welcoming and sincere. plus, she was probably the prettiest woman you had ever seen. so, who wouldn’t want to know her better?

since that night, luke and sierra hit it off. she was at every gathering with the boys, eventually taking your place in luke’s heart. at first, it didn’t bother you. luke would still hang out with you on his own, he’d still check on you if you got too drunk. but it all started to disappear. luke got distant. but maybe it was you who was pushing him away, knowing you were no match for sierra.

then, it happened.

luke announced that he and sierra had made it official, they were dating now. the guys cheered and all congratulated him, you just stood there in silence. “y/n?” you blinked, coming back to reality. you flashed a smile, “congrats luke!” the blond grinned and hugged you but you didn’t return it.

it was only a matter of time before it just got worse. anytime you’d hang out with them luke was always bringing up sierra. “oh sierra this!” or “oh sierra does that too!” in the beginning, it didn’t bother you, you tried to suppress those feelings because he was now with someone else but it hurt. you couldn’t lie about that.

you wanted him to say that about you, you wanted luke to tell everyone how proud he was that you were his. you just wanted him to see you.

one day, luke asked if he could hang out with you just like the old days. you said yes, of course. so, the two of you sat on the sofa for hours talking about anything and everything.

“i’m proud of you, lu” he shook his head, “you should be proud of yourself too, you help us write it” you shrugged. “just happy to be apart of something as wonderful as that” you smiled.

“you seem happy” luke nodded, “happiest i’ve ever been, y/n/n” you were happy to hear that, his happiness was everything you wanted for him. “sierra..she’s just so amazing, y’know? like i finally got it right. i’m so in love with her.”

oh.

gathering at parties was even worse, he was always holding onto her like she was his most prized possession. so, you found yourself distancing yourself from the group.

calum was the first to notice this, and it worried his heart. you were his closest friend, what was going on in your mind to cause your sudden drift?

you huffed, throwing your pencil down and stood up from your seat, and headed to the door. the constant knocking was getting on your nerves. when you opened the door you saw calum. “cal? what are you doing here?” you asked. “we need to talk”

calum sat across from you on the sofa, his heart heavy with guilt. he said, “where have you been?” you shrugged, “well, calum, i have an album i need to finish so i’m sorry if i’ve been busy trying to wri-“ he cut you off, “no, it isn’t that. because if it was, you would want our help we always wrote as a team” he knew you were lying, calum knew you too well. maybe even better than luke knew you.

you knew it wouldn’t do any good to lie to him, you hesitated, picking at your fingernails. “it’s just..” you didn’t know how to word it properly and you didn’t want to sound crazy. “i love luke..” you finally said, calum laughed “we all love luke.” “no, calum i’m in love with luke” calum froze, his eyes going wide even though he probably knew it himself. “oh..” he whispered. it was all connecting now.

“so, i’m sorry if i’m a little distant now it just really fucking hurts to see someone i love with my entire heart with someone else, and yes i know i should’ve said something. but id rather have him in my life as a friend instead of losing him and never hearing from him.” you were getting a bit emotional now, so calum came closer and hugged you. “it’s okay” he said, rubbing your back. calum wasn’t the best at comforting people but he cared about you and he had hoped it was enough.

“it’ll be okay, just don’t shut me out, okay?” he pulled away to look at you. “you’re strong and you’ll figure this out, and i’ll be by your side for all of it” you nodded, wiping your eyes. “thank you, calum.” you smiled, he nodded. “of course”

after he leaves you sat there for a while, you were left with your emotions. you weren’t sure how long you were there just staring at the wall. you decided that the only way you could deal with your feelings was to write a song to help the feelings go away.

days passed, you went back and forth removing and adding lyrics to the song and eventually took out luke’s name, and inserted a mysterious ’drew’. you kept your songwriting journal close, especially when you were around calum. no one needed to see it, it was for your eyes only. it was just for you to cope with the pain.

eventually, you had finished the song but if you were going to add it to your album, you didn’t know. maybe it’s too personal, or maybe it just wasn’t good enough to be released. it was just for you.

you sat across from calum, tapping your finger against the leather couch of the recording studio and staring down at the book in your lap. “what’s on your mind?” calum proposed, you hummed looking up at him. “i finished a song, i think i’m gonna go to that open mic night and perform it. i haven’t been on stage in a while” you suggested. calum agreed, “i think that’ll be nice. i’ll be there” he grinned, which earned a laugh from you.

you entered the building with your guitar and looked around before finally spotting calum, he grinned walking to you and wrapping his arms around you. “you look great” you chuckled, “thanks, cal. and thank you for showin up” he nodded. “anything for you, i’m excited to see you perform again. it’s been a while” you hummed, “yeah, it has” you agreed, calum patted your back. “break a leg!”

you laughed, walking past him, and headed up the few steps to the small stage, opening the case and getting your guitar out.

“hi everyone” you smiled, sitting against the stool and looking at the small crowd in front of the stage and you saw calum smiling. “so, most of you guys know me, if not i’m y/n. i’ve been writing and performing music for some time now.” you lightly strummed some cords. “some of you may know i have an album coming out soon, but tonight i thought i’d share an unreleased song that i’ve just finished.” you smiled, meeting eyes of a couple of people. “so, yeah. i hope y’all enjoy”

drew looks at me i fake a smile, so he won't see that I want and I'm needing

everything that we should be.

i'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about and she's got everything that I have to live without

drew talks to me i laugh 'cause it's just so funny that i can't even see anyone when he's with me

he says he’s so in love, he’s finally got it right

i wonder if he knows he’s all i think about at night.

you take a breath, about to enter the chorus and then you spot him entering the room, with her. luke spots you, throwing a smile your way but you looked back at calum and continued singing even though you began to get choked up.

he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar

the only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishing star

he's the song in the car i keep singing, don't know why i do.

drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe?

and there he goes, so perfectly

the kind of flawless I wish I could be

she'd better hold him tight, give him all her love

look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky 'cause

your eyes find luke in the crowd again, his arm wrapped around sierras shoulder, who, was also enjoying your performance.

(pretend y/n sang the whole song lol i didn’t feel like writing it all sorry)

so, I'll drive home alone as I turn off the light

i'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight

'cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar the only one who's got enough of me to break my heart

he's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do he's the time taken up, but there's never enough

and he's all that I need to fall into

drew looks at me I fake a smile, so he won't see

everyone can tell what you’re singing about is coming from the heart and they’re giving you sympathetic looks. after you finish you quickly excuse yourself outside to take a breather “thank y’all” you smiled, standing up from the stool and leaving the stage as the crowed continued to applaud for you.

luke, for the first time in a while, notices something is wrong so he follows you out. not before cal intercepts, he could see that calum was kinda frustrated. luke asks “what’s going on? is y/n okay? she’s never done that” calum nods. luke sighed and asks “we’ll tell me! what happened?” calum says “think about the song she just sang and then ask her yourself.”

you were behind the building, pacing back and forth trying to stop the overflow of tears pouring from your eyes. “y/n?” you stopped in your tracks hearing the voice, you turned around and met with luke.

upon seeing your disheveled face, his eyes softened. luke asked, “are you alright?” you sighed, chewing on your lip. should you answer him honestly? or continue to lie, which you had gotten pretty damn good at for some time now.

“not really.” you answered. luke took a few steps closer to you and asks, “is that song about someone?” you nodded, but luke still couldn’t figure out why you never told him. he was your best friend since the two of you were just little kids. “why haven’t you told me? who is drew?”

you take a deep breath contemplating telling him, this would be the moment that changed everything. luke sees the hesitation and touches your arm “you can tell me anything you know that, y/n/n” he looks so earnest so you answer “it is about someone and i couldnt tell you because, well, it’s about you.”

luke falls silent, a wave of emotions coursing through his body. he starts to speak a couple times but stops before he can get an actual word out. “i wish you would’ve told me sooner.” luke had always been in love with you way before sierra came into the picture, maybe he just didn’t know how to show it properly. plus, he thought for sure you just saw him as a friend.

at this point, you were crying. tears falling rapidly as he was talking. he says,“do you know how many songs i’ve written about you? hell, you’ve even helped me write some of them.” he took a few steps closer towards you. do you remember when we wrote meet you there? i thought for sure you’d see right through it and know the truth. but you didn’t, and now..now i’m with sierra..” now he was beginning to tear up. “and i—i don’t know. i just wish i’d known sooner”

“luke..i..” you wiped your eyes, it was so hard for you to hear that when you had spent all your life with him only to lose him in the end. “i’m sorry.”

luke shook his head, “no, i’m sorry.”

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hopefulromances · 9 months

Note

Not a promt or anything but something based in "Call It what you want" by T. Swift wit jamie. 😭😭😭 I have been thrown too deep into jamietok

Oh pls my tik tok is just JAMIE. I'm imaging this with Jamie as Taylor, just to give some context.

The gala was just starting when you finally arrived. You had to meet Jamie there, now that the team came early to help set up. But Jamie was waiting for you when you walked in.

"Jamie!" you called over to Jamie him. She headed straight for him, head down, ignoring the camera flashes as she walked through the front door of the gala. He greeted you with a kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you close to him.

"Did you see this one?" you asked, showing him your phone. You hand rested on his shoulder keeping the two of you close as you showed him the article.

Jamie Tartt's New Fling? Who is Jamie Tartt's new girl? More on page 6

"We got the fling title," you mused as yoy leaned your head on his shoulder.

Jamie chuckled pulling the phone closer to his face so he could see. You told him he needed contacts, but he refused to get it checked. Said he didn't trust eye doctors cause they all wore glasses. How good could they be if they couldn't fix your their own eyesight.

You giggled through the back of your throat, screenshotting the article to add to the folder you'd created. You loved the tabloids. Jamie was afraid you'd be scared off by them at first but quickly, you proved them wrong. You liked to see all the ridiculous names they called you.

Jamie'd been burned before. Mistakes he made over and over again by letting those words get to his head. Letting the words of his father get to his head. That he had to act a certain way, be a certain way in order for people in his life to want him to stick around. But with you, he felt like he'd finally done one thing right.

"I got you something," he murmured, pulling something out of his coat pocket. He held out a box. "You only have to wear it if you want it... it's.. it's nothing, it's stupid."

You hit his chest. "No self-deprecating thoughts, yeah?"

You took the box and opened it. In it was a gold chain necklace with a J hanging from it.

"I've got one too," He told you. "It's got your first initial on it." He tugged down his collar just enough so you could see the matching necklace dangling around his neck.

"Oh, Jamie... this is..." You were speechless. You ran your finger over the J. "This is..."

Anyone else looking on might think of it as a collar, something holding you back. But you knew better. You picked it up out of the box and turned around. "Help me out, Jaim."

Jamie swallowed hard and reached up to clasp the necklace around your neck, placing a kiss right above the clasp. You shivered slightly, turning back around in his arms. Jamie's eyes glowed as he look at you with his initial around your neck.

"I just... i need you to know how special you are to me..." He added, coming up to rest his hand on the necklace. "That... no matter what they call you or us or... whatever... that you're the one person in the room who really knows me."

You held onto Jamie's hand as it stroked your neck, smiling up at him sweetly.

"They can call us what they want to, babe," You murmured to him. "But you're all I really want."

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night #drabble #fluff

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coolprettyleo · 2 months

Text

superman - gabe perreault ❥

tw: angst? fluff? not proofread. this is my first fic lol. pls be nice!! inspired by superman by taylor swift

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

lottie woke up to the sound of an alarm going off knowing very well it didnt belong to her. it belonged to the snoring and now slightly grumpy boy wrapped around her. who was tightening his arms around her waist because he didnt want to let go. he turns and puts his alarm on snooze and turns back to the beautiful girl in his sheets mumbling something about how all he needed was just five more minutes.

“gabe you have to go, youre gonna be late” lottie softly says sleepily.

gabe huffs and untangles his arms from her waist as he sits up; not before leaning over and giving lottie a kiss on the cheek that never managed to fail and give her butterflies even if it was five AM. lottie watches gabes tall and dark haired figure disappear into the bathroom as her mind begins to wonder off into a realm of wonder.

lottie knew what she was getting herself into when she met gabe and ultimately decided to get involved with him. hes a hockey player who happens to be a pretty darn good one meaning he was going to be gone on roadies and there was going to be days where he was going to leave for roadies. at days at a time.

he walks out stuffing something in his bag so he can leave off and save the world; or go play hockey. Its the same thing to lottie. atleast in her imagination.

“you okay?” he softly says as he sees his girlfriend sitting up on his bed staring at him, in his shirt having a bit of a dazed look on her face.

“im fine, it just sucks youre leaving again. I feel like you just got back” lottie sighs.

she was right seeing as they just came back from christmas break last tuesday and it was currently friday morning and he was already leaving. again.

“i know baby, but i’ll call you everynight and ill be texting you as long as i have my phone” gabe says walking over to her and gently stroking her hair. “we’ll be fine we always are” he mumbles before giving her the sweetest forhead kiss.

lottie looks up at him with some words hanging off the tip of her tongue but for some reason she just cant voice them. shes not even sure what exactly she wants to say.

he has his mothers eyes.

lottie cant help but notice. as she stares into them.

they get pulled out of their little admiring eachother moment when gabes phone goes off. lottie knows its most likely will or ryan waiting for him downstairs in the car ready to drive to the buses. she knows he has a busy day.

“ill be out in a moment” gabe says into the phone rushing to get his bag not before giving lottie a swiss kiss “bye babe i love you” he says rushed.

if lottie wasnt awake two seconds ago she was definitely awake now. they stopped and looked at eachother wide eyed knowing damn well they hadnt said those words to eachother yet. I mean lottie knew she felt them she just didnt know how to voice them. he knew she loved him. right?

gabe looks at lottie for a moment waiting for her to say them back like any boyfriend who does nothing but support and love her, but lotties mind was anywhere but in the room. at the moment just wanted to crawl up into a little ball and cry because she couldnt help but overthink the fact he probably didnt mean them and it was most likely one of those moments where you accidentally say i love you like when your five and you accidentally call your kindergarten teacher mom. your not his kindergarten teacher lottie, your his girlfriend.

she decided to do what she does best and acted ditzy.

“good luck!!” she said, patting his chest with a smile that looked eerily ill.

gabe was taken aback. a little because the first time he wanted to tell lottie he loved her, he wanted to make it special. he couldnt believe he did it just like that 10 seconds before he had to be out the door. but mostly due to the fact lottie looked like a deer in headlights.

does she not love me? was it too soon? is there someone else? gabe couldnt help but think.

he stared at charlotte for a moment before nodding to himself in what lottie couldnt tell was disappointment or anger? walking out the door.

he had to know lottie has always loved him since the very first day. right?!? that she'll be waiting for him when he gets back, right?

lotties mind was going about one hundred miles per hour.

meanwhile, gabe couldnt wrap his head around what just happened.

“gabe-o you good buddy?” ryan ask, seeing as gabe got into the car looking like he was about to break into a million pieces.

“yeah ill be fine” he said while irrationally muting lotties messages of her telling gabe to call her. he puts on his beats quickly after that signifying he didnt want the conversation to go any further.

ryan and will give eachother a look before taking off and ultimately deciding to let it go knowing gabe would probably just temm them later.

meanwhile lottie was sitting on gabes bed wondering what the hell is wrong with her. gabe is what anyone would want in a man. hes a gentlemen he treats her as if she was a princess and hearing those words wanted to make her scream and kick her feet. yet when the time came she stared at him. he probably felt like crap and that was not what he needed going into a weekend of gamedays. she felt horrible seeing as he was leaving her on delivered or just read.

part of her knew she deserved it and she just wanted to desperately tell him how shes loved him from the very first day and she just hoped he didnt go off and do something irrational, because he had to know lottie was going to be here when he got back, waiting for him right?

… to be continued

#gabe perreault #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard #will smith hockey #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #bc hockey

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seeingivy · 6 months

Note

pls do "the story of us" for ur gojo x taylor swift series 🙏🙏

the story of us

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: gojo is ur roommates best friend, he is annoying (more teen gojo I am arrogant bastard vibes then sweetie teacher baby gojo), hoes are fighting, hoes are in the most complicated situationship on the planet earth, mistletoe, ice skating, sukuna as an annoying ex, mysterious evil dad figure for gojo

an: proof im the most annoying writer ever. made a poll for taylor as gojo to, for a second time now, ignore those options and write a completely different songs. sincerest apologies but gojo as taylor fans come get yall juice.

“Good morning, you hag.” Satoru states, in a fell swoop, crashing any hopes you had of having a good morning.

“Good morning, you garden troll.” you respond.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, rummaging through the cabinets for a bowl, as he jumps up off the couch and joins you in the kitchen, keen and eager to annoy you bright and early in the morning.

He’s leaning on the granite countertops at your side, his blue eyes peering over those god awful sunglasses he’s always intent on wearing - despite the fact that it’s quite literally raining outside - and gives you a jeering smile.

“So, do all girls wear granny nightgowns or is it just you?” he asks, twisting the end of your pigtail braids in his hair. You immediately smack his hand off and glare, turning around to reach for the milk.

“Do all boys have tiny dicks and overcompensate with a shitty personality or is it just you?” you iterate back, earning a satisfying glare back from him.

With his snow white hair and annoyingly glimmering blue eyes, your roommate's best friend, Satoru Gojo, is quite literally the biggest nuisance you’ve ever met in your life. Clearly a rich kid, trust fund type, you can tell that Satoru, in earnest, has never worked a day in his life. And his lack of tact and self awareness truly reflects that.

It’s embedded deep in the way that he acts. Because Satoru saunters from place to place, showing up at your apartment with no consideration or respect for you and Suguru, bats his pretty eyes at his professors when he’s failing, flirts with girls before he cheats off of their tests, and the list goes on and on.

One thing is clear. That he’s a spineless, pathetic little manchild.

And you’re not sure why, what it is specifically about you, but he’s clearly made it his personal mission in life to antagonize and irritate you.Maybe it’s the fact that you yelled at him the first time he ever showed up in this apartment, that you couldn’t help but disagree with every word that came out of his mouth, that at his core he just agitated you - but it led you to this horrible predicament that you’re in now.

That you ended up having to room with Suguru, when Sukuna dumped you and kicked you out. And that, of course, the universe was always in your favor, and you ended up at the one place Satoru was when he wasn’t shamelessly flirting with any living organism, which was right outside your room.

Right on cue, the front door slams open and Suguru’s barging in, wildly out of breath and panting. His usual fixed, pristine bun is in a mess, his pupils wide and dilated as he looks at the two of you.

“Fucking perfect!” he pants, leaning down on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

“G’morning Suguru. You okay, there?” you ask, giving him a strange look.

“Okay, okay. You guys are dating.”

“Huh?” you both ask, eyes boggling out of your heads.

“You’re dating. Be-be in love, I don’t know, be in love!” he shouts, immediately running back out of the door and slamming the door shut.

You and Satoru give each other a look before shrugging, returning back to your bowl of cereal and Gojo to his phone. And on cue, Suguru strolls back into the apartment, more calmly and with a girl at his side. His cheeks are still flushed in pink, the panting subsided but still present in his voice.

“Y/N, Satoru, this is Hiromi. Hiromi, this is my roommate Y/N and her boyfriend, Satoru.”

You swallow hard, realizing quickly what’s happening here. And out of the kindness of your heart, groan at the fact that you’re going to have to oblige.

Three months ago, you got dumped by Sukuna. Because as much as you and the two of you had moved past, he had finally exhausted all ends and had enough of you.

Quite literally, enough of you, because he went as far as packing your things and taking your key, fully intent on never letting you back in. And out of the kindness of his heart, one of your only friends - who was free of any attachments to Sukuna - had an empty room in his apartment that he offered to lease to you.

Suguru, naturally, was the perfect roommate. Always cleaned up after himself, offered to listen whenever you needed him, saved leftovers for you when you had a long day. Except for the stupid white haired plus one that came with him, it was perfect.

For you. Because while Suguru was all but willing to offer you the spot in the room, insisting that it never caused an issue, he might have been fibbing the truth to save your feelings. Something you found out from Satoru, who is naturally a loudmouth.

That since Suguru has a female roommate, you’ve put a damper on his…..romantic endeavors. Because they’re increasingly enthusiastic, so into him, until the shit hits the fan.

They find out that you’re his roommate. And you think it’s a little ridiculous, but they all cite the same reason for not talking to him past the second or third date. Because to them, there’s no way in hell that he isn’t crushing on you, that you don't cuddle at night, and that you definitely coddle each other in a way no one else does.

Because nothing is more ironic than losing a guy to the girl he lives with and they’d rather cut their losses before getting involved.

Which proves that Suguru must really like this girl. Because if he’s going this far, lying to her the second before she walks in, it must mean that he really wants her to stick around.

Is it moral? No. Is Suguru lonely? Yes.

“Hiromi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” you respond, setting your bowl down and extending a hand to her.

She gives you a warm smile back, laughing at Satoru flaunting some stupid line about chivalry before he presses a kiss on top of her knuckles. Satoru must be enjoying himself too much, because he’s now snaking his hand around your waist, leaning down to press his temple against yours.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast? Poor Suguru has third wheeled with us far enough.” he asks, as she politely nods in response.

You and Satoru lead Hiromi to the breakfast table - Satoru now eating your bowl of cereal - as Suguru starts setting out to make breakfast for all of you. You and Satoru sit side by side, sparing each other an awkward glance, as Hiromi shamelessly ogles you.

“So how long have you guys been dating?” Hiromi asks, politely folding her hands flat on the table.

“Well. Um, I moved here right after I broke up with my ex-boyfriend. He kind of left me with no place to live and I kind of met Satoru here. And then it just happened.” you mumble, cheeks turning pink.

Satoru, again, has no concept of personal boundaries. He slings his hand around your shoulders, planting a wet kiss on your cheeks, before responding to her.

“Don’t mind her, she just gets really shy when she talks about her feelings for me.”

“Satoru.”

“But rest assured, I promise you that you don’t have to worry about Suguru and Y/N, if that’s what you’re trying to pry about.”

Her face immediately goes pink, as you look over at Satoru, who flashes you a knowing smile and squeezes your shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry, I hope you understand. It’s just that…it’s kind of a weird situation. And I know that probably says more about my insecurities than anything but-”

You reach over, placing your hand over her folded ones.

“It’s a normal thing to be concerned about. If I was you, I probably would have asked a hundred berating questions already.”

“Yeah. She gets really possessive.” Gojo unhelpfully adds.

You shoot him a glare, before returning to look at her and smiling.

“But I promise, you have nothing to worry about. I-I don’t even think about Suguru like that. And we’re never here alone, Satoru’s always here with me.”

“Like you, I too am possessive over my girl. Despite the fact that she quite literally makes it so easy for us by wearing the most unflattering pajamas, I’ll be here to stamp out any budding feelings, if that makes you feel better.”

“Yeah. Satoru really knows how to take the romance out of a room. I know better than anyone.” you respond, earning a laugh from Hiromi as she releases that awkward tension in her shoulders.

You kick the tiny divots on the floor, patiently waiting for your matcha latte at the bar. Your anxiety is growing by the second, the unexpected morning rush and the heavy foot traffic outside indicating that you were going to be late to your morning class if your drink wasn’t made in the next few minutes.

You’re thrown out of your thoughts by a tapping on your shoulder, only to find a boy, with blonde hair and brown eyes smiling at you.

“I like your shirt.”

You look down, at your boygenius the record shirt, and look up to smile at him.

“Thank you! What’s your favorite song?”

“We’re In Love.” he responds, giving you a warm smile.

You’re not sure why, but hearing him say the words has the blood rushing to your cheeks. You hold your hand out to him, swallowing that deep warm pit in your throat.

“Y/N.”

“Kento. It’s nice to meet you.”

And really, the moment - your stupid coffee shop meet cute - comes crashing down when you hear that agitating, grating voice at your side.

“And I’m Satoru!” Satoru states, standing at your side and too blissfully happy for seven in the morning. You glare at him, as he gives you an annoyingly irritating smile.

“Your drink is here, babe.” Satoru states, holding your dark green matcha latte in his nimble hands. From the way it’s half full, you can tell he already downed half of it in the few seconds you were talking to Kento.

“Thank you.” you grate out, giving Kento an awkward smile.

“Well, Kento. It was nice meeting you but we have a class to get to.” Satoru adds.

He cocks his head to the side, blue eyes peeking over his sunglasses, as he looks at you.

“Ready to go?”

You groan, knowing internally that whatever shred of a moment you just had was gone, as you sigh.

“Yes. Bye Kento.”

You glare at him as you walk out of the store, Satoru reaching over to pull the hood of your rain jacket up, as the two of you start marching through the downpour. He’s walking at your side, sporting some very light clothes for the way it’s raining down.

“I don’t like matcha. We should start getting iced vanilla lattes.”

“I didn’t realize we were sharing. And that was really rude, Satoru.“

“Everything that’s yours is mine, sweetheart.”

“Really? What are the three numbers on the back of your credit card, boo boo bear?”

“666.” he responds, flicking the side of your cheek.

“That’s fitting.” you murmur back, as he slides the drink out of your hand, again.

You and Satoru march in silence, trudging through the puddles collecting in the holes of pavement, the silence enveloping the two of you.

And really, for what seems like the hundredth time, you’re racking your brain trying to figure Satoru Gojo out. You’re not sure what it is about him, what drives him to act the way he does, but every answer you find leaves you with a hundred more questions you want to answer.

In the few months you’ve been living with Suguru, you’ve been able to ascertain a few things.

First and foremost, there is no one Satoru Gojo loves more than his friends. From the way he affectionately talks about Suguru, and their hometown friend Shoko, it’s evident enough that whatever friendship he has with the two of them means the world to him.

Second, Satoru Gojo is extremely comfortable in his sense of self. From the way he carries himself, enthusiastically chats with strangers on the train and feels so comfortable stealing your lattes after the bar, you can tell that no one has tried to stomp that spirit out of him. Other people, more meek and timid like you perhaps, get that childlike wonder stamped out of them. But here Satoru Gojo is, at the ripe age of twenty-one, still sporting it like a proud badge he wears.

And third, Satoru Gojo loves to irritate you. You’re not sure what it is about you exactly, whether it’s the fact that you’re Suguru’s roommate so it leaves you off limits to any of his usual charming compliments he leaves for other girls, but Satoru treats you like no one else. Always pulling at the ends of your hair, “lovingly” making fun of your clothes, and obviously, stamping any chance you have of romantic endeavors.

Satoru swings the door open for you, walking all the way to the front of your class. He holds out a five dollar bill and gives you a cheeky grin.

“What for?”

“Thanks for the latte, princess.”

You glare, snatching the bill out of his hands.

“You’re welcome.”

Right on cue, a girl all but appears out of thin air at your side, giving you and Satoru sickly sweet smiles.

“Hi Satoru.”

Satoru’s leaning against the frame now, an irritating move you’ve seen him do countless times - one to show off his stupidly toned arms - as he leans down and smiles at her.

“Hi Sammy. How are you?”

“Pretty good, now that you’re here.” she responds, twisting the ends of her hair in between her fingers.

You fight the urge to gag as Satoru laughs, leaning forward to tuck the stray hairs by the side of her ear.

“Right, so. I’ll see you later, babe?” you ask Satoru, giving him a smile.

He looks over, glaring with his bright, angry blue eyes.

“Y/N.” he responds, tone warning.

“And Satoru, sweetheart? Do remember to grab toilet paper on the way home. Suguru is getting really tired of cleaning up your skid marks.” you respond, reaching forward to pinch his cheek and settling into your seat at the front, watching him seethe at the front door.

When you walk into the apartment, Satoru’s incessant comments are the final nail in the coffin on what might be the worst day ever.

“Ouch. I think I just went temporarily blind. You look horrible.” Satoru asks, momentarily taking his eyes off of the movie he was watching with Suguru and Hiromi.

And the comment - so pathetically hitting you the last place you needed it - is enough to send you crying in a fit of your tears, as you lock the door behind you.

Satoru looks over to find Suguru and Hiromi glaring at him, Suguru more angry and Hiromi more disappointed. He can’t pick which one is worse. Well actually, you crying in his face is the worst thing that happened in the past few minutes, but their reaction is right up there with them.

“What?” Satoru asks, shrugging.

“Satoru.” Suguru berates.

“What? I was just joking.”

“I don’t understand how you and Y/N are dating. I mean, you can hardly even call it that.” Hiromi states, looking at him rather unhelpfully.

Suguru’s eyes go wide at her side and Satoru swallows hard, thinking of his collateral. Because in earnest, Satoru’s not really sure what Suguru sees in Hiromi, why he would ever think this would be the best solution to his issue.

But when you followed Suguru’s lead, all Satoru could really do was oblige.

“That’s just how Y/N and I communicate. It’s our love language.” Satoru says, giving her a halfhearted smile.

“You know she hates it right?” Hiromi asks.

“Well, I don’t know about-”

“Who would want to wake up every morning and have someone just constantly berating them? Just teasing them, making fun of every little thing you say. And sure, it’s fun sometimes to banter with your partner but…it can’t really be easy for her. She doesn’t have many friends. And the one person who's supposed to like her being…rude can’t help either.” Hiromi adds.

“Well, I just…tease her because that’s how I know to talk to her. That’s just how I am. And she has plenty of friends.” Satoru responds.

“Not anymore. They’re all friends with Sukuna, who I’m positive she wants nothing to do with. It’s probably why she even tolerates you in the first place. Granted, I’m not trying to speak on your relationship but from what I’ve seen, it’s….you kind of have to make adjustments for her.” Hiromi states.

“I don’t know if that will-”

“Just be there with her. It’ll help her. I think deep down, she just wants someone to be there with her. At her side to support her.”

Satoru gives Suguru a glare, before obliging and knocking on your door. He takes a deep breath as he walks in, finding you slumped on the floor next to your vinyl player. The gray vinyl is scratching on the table, soft guitar music emanating from it as you lay on your side. Satoru follows suit, lying flat on the ground next to you until the two of you are face to face. And in earnest, Satoru feels horrible. At your pink eyes, flushed cheeks, and puffy skin. Because for god knows whatever reason, what he had said was enough to make you cry.

Satoru never understood it. Why people assign him so much importance when anything he’s ever had to say has been discarded all together. It’s why he’s unsure of what to say to you right now, when he’s never had to say anything at all.

“Hi Y/N.”

You stare back at him blankly, his blue eyes void of any of their usual excitement as he stares back at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You divert your attention, the question so…agitating, that all you can do is watch your vinyl spin around on the table, at the little pin digging into the plate.

“Is um….I don’t really know how to do this whole…comforting thing. It’s kind of awkward. Is this that band you like?”

You give him a meek nod, which he smiles at, before squinting at the small print on the vinyl.

“Ah. I get it. You’re trying to be Cool About It. Whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

“That was lame. Even for you, Satoru.” you respond, wiping the snot off of your nose.

“Well, I personally think you’re hot. Being Cool About It was never going to be your thing either.” he responds.

He’s not sure what it is about what he said, but suddenly your face is falling and you’re kind of…glaring at him. You pull your hood up and turn away from him, because the embarrassment of having Satoru Gojo in your room pitying you right now would be the actual nail in the coffin before you went full on off your rocker crazy.

Satoru’s quick to move, now sitting crisscrossed near your head and looking down at you.

“Are you playing hard to get so I’ll call you hot again?”

“No. I’m trying to get you to stop pitying me.” you murmur back, pulling the hood over your face.

“I don’t pity you.”

You stand up, crossing your legs on the floor, as you turn to face him. And you know that Satoru in no way deserves any shape of the wrath that’s coming out of your mouth, but you can’t help it.

“You don’t?”

“Well, of course I-”

“Yes, Satoru, you do. Because really, you’re only here because Suguru or Hiromi asked you to be. They asked you to put whatever the fuck it is that you have going on inside your head and think for one fucking second how it is that you make me feel. When you make fun of me constantly, do every last thing to agitate me, quite literally flirt with every living microorganism on this goddamn planet but me. I know that you really, truly do not care. You’re just here because they asked you to be but god, please spare me of whatever shitty response you’re trying to muster up to make me feel better because there’s no point. I just feel horrible when I’m around you.” you shout.

You lean back against the back of your bed, your chest heaving, as you knot your fingers together and groan. Because if the day couldn’t get any worse, you just yelled at Satoru.

For no reason. After he tried to comfort you, in his own weird way.

He scoots up at your side, sliding his hand around your shoulder once again, and leaning your head against his shoulder. Your stupid tears are falling again as he rubs into your skin, the touch soft.

“All that because you’re mad I won’t flirt with you?” he murmurs.

“Of course that’s what you got out of it.”

He laughs, the lack of anger in his tone at your words soothing down the bouts of guilt in your chest.

“You’re not the type of girl I can flirt with.”

“Jeez. Thanks Satoru. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He reaches forward to pinch your nose, before continuing.

“I mean, I’m obviously a guy who lacks self-awareness or tact, in quite literally any conversation.”

“Naturally.” you respond.

He gives you a pointed glare, before continuing.

“But I have self awareness when it comes to these types of things. I know I shouldn’t flirt with you.” he responds.

“And why’s that? I’m too ugly of a hag for you?” you spit.

“No. You’re the type of girl who could take my heart and run off with it if I let you.”

You shrug his hand off your shoulder, rolling your eyes.

“You’re full of shit, Satoru Gojo. And corny as hell.”

“You know you’re no good for me, right?”

You look at him, at his deep, ocean blue eyes for the first time, filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

“You’d put me in my place too fast. Maybe too eager, too curious to figure out what it is I’ve got going on up and here. And I don’t know the answers to that either, but you’d want to make me figure it out. Whatever mess of things going on, I-I’d want to fix it for you. And as nice as that sounds, you’d probably break any semblance of structure I’d have left the second you go running. Which is something even I can’t handle.” he responds, lifting his hand to take yours in it.

You cross link your fingers with his, linking your hands together. And try to place the emotion, that dragging sound in his voice.

It’s desperation.

“Why do you think I would leave?” you ask, looking down at your intertwined hands.

Satoru smiles in response, reaching forward to trace his fingers along the edge of your lips.

“You’ve just proved my point.”

And when he pads out of your room, you realize that once again, he’s left you with a hundred questions left to answer. But the one you’re sure of is this.

That the emotion that was welling in his deep, crystal blue eyes was impassioned. That it was real.

In the following weeks, things change between you and Satoru, but not too drastically. You’re not required to keep your show up for Hiromi too often, because she’s quite literally too enamored with Suguru to even think about the two of you, and Satoru Gojo stays the same way he is.

He steals your lattes, pulls your hair, lovingly calls you an old hag, and stamps out any hopes you have for romantic endeavors. But somewhere around the grayness of November, he doesn’t stop by your apartment for three days.

“Hey. Where’s Gojo?”

Suguru looks up from his phone, giving you the most obscene look you’ve ever seen him muster.

“Huh?”

“Gojo? Satoru Gojo? That gangly idiot that’s always hanging around here?”

“Yes. I’m well aware who he is, Y/N. Why are you asking?”

“Dunno. He’s always around and now he’s not. Are you sure he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere?” you ask.

“He might as well be. His dad is in town. Spending time with him.” he responds, turning back to his phone and looking away from you.

You frown, leaning against the counter, as you reach for your phone. And you’re not sure why you do it but you slide into your chat with him and start typing.

you: are you enjoying your father daughter time?

satoru: are you missing me?

you: missing the free lattes that come from going to the coffee shop with you :/

you: come hit on the girl at the paper lantern. im craving a matcha latte.

satoru: i would never waste a free drink on a matcha latte.

satoru: and quit trying to whore me out for free drinks.

you: then buy me one.

satoru: well played.

satoru: the ice skating rink, on sixteenth and rockfield. i’ll be there in an hour.

You smile gleefully, wrapping your scarf carefully around you, as you head out into the cold to the ice skating rink Satoru had picked out. And you catch the back of his snow white hair, leaning against the railing as you eye the big, bright Christmas tree at the center.

You walk up to his side, lacing your hand through his, as you turn and give him a smile. He returns the gesture, some part of his demeanor muted today, as he turns to you.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Satoru. Where’s my drink?”

Satoru rolls his eyes, before reaching for the two cups on the ground and handing you one.

“Your shitty matcha latte. As requested.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around the drink, as he leads you to the stand to get your skates. His hand is soft on the small of your back as you walk up to the girl giving out the shoes.

“Sizes?” she asks.

“Eight.” you respond.

“Eleven and a half.” Satoru provides, as the girl whisks off to grab your shoes.

“Eleven and a half? What are you, Bigfoot?” you respond.

“You know what they say. Big feet, big…”

“Ego. But we knew that already.” you respond.

The two of you take the skates and head over to the bench, Satoru too quick with his own skates that he’s suddenly tying yours and dragging you onto your feet. The two of you stand at the front of the tiny little opening, the sudden awkwardness of the situation dawning on you.

That you don’t know how to ice skate.

“What are we waiting for?” Satoru asks, hands on both of your shoulders as he stands behind you. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his breath tickling the hair on your scalp.

“The rink to open up. There’s a bunch of people, I don’t want to crash into them the second we get on.”

Satoru frowns, bringing his hands around your chin and lightly moving your face to his.

“Are the people in the room with us? There’s like nine people here. And four of them are under the age of seven.” he deadpans.

“I don’t want to knock over a kid.” you whine.

“Yeah, that would be goblin on troll crime.” Satoru responds.

“Am I the goblin or the troll?” you ask.

“Troll. Obviously.” he responds, bringing his hands around your waist as he lifts you onto the ice with him.

You’re suddenly wobbling too hard on your feet and holding onto his extended arms with a deathlike grip, the cold air biting your skin as your legs turn to noodles.

“Okay, Raggedy Anne. Face me.” he states, voice soft as he turns you towards him. His hands are locked in with yours, the hold firm as he smiles.

“Satoru.” you whine.

“Just try to glide with me, okay? Our goal is to get to that side of the rink, by the end of our game.”

“What’s our game?” you ask.

“We’re going to play twenty questions.” Satoru states, mimicking the gliding motion as he instructs you.

You follow his suit, clutching hard on his arm every time you wobble, as Satoru starts to distract you with the stupid game he’s intent on playing.

“Me first. Why did you text me?” Satoru asks.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. It was surprisingly peaceful for the past few days, so I knew you had to be in some type of mortal peril somewhere.” you respond.

Gojo hums in response, as you try hard to pick the hundreds of questions you have to ask Gojo.

“Where were you the past few days?” you ask.

“Did you want me there?” Satoru asks, tone hopeful.

“You’re supposed to answer before you ask again. And I’m not sure if want is the word. But…I don’t know. It’s weird not having you around. All quiet.” you respond.

“My dad’s in town. Was kind of busy.”

You hum in response, rolling over the words in your head.

“I did want you around.” you add, earning a smile from him.

The two of you skate in silence, the wobbling minimal now as you try to reach the railing at the end of the rink that Satoru had pointed out, right near the small, brightly decorated Christmas tree at the end of the rink.

“It’s your turn, Y/N.” Satoru reminds.

“Right. Do you like your dad?”

“No. What happened with Sukuna?”

You swallow hard, so caught off guard by the question that you fall straight into the ice. You must have been holding onto Satoru too hard because he goes tumbling down with you, lightly rubbing the spot on his head that made contact with the ice. You reach forward, cradling his head in your hands.

“Fuck. Sorry, Gojo. That caught me off guard.”

“That’s my bad, princess. It came out of nowhere.” he responds, standing up on his knees as he holds his hand out for you. He’s wiping the excess ice off the sides of your clothes and you mimic his motions.

The two of you start silently skating towards the end of the rink again, hands linked together, as you figure out the right words to say.

“I live with Suguru because of him. He wasn’t the best.”

“I know that much, Y/N.”

“He…kicked me out. Like, put all my things in a box, put them outside, and kept my key.”

His hand tighets in yours as you swallow hard and continue.

“Dunno. I guess he just kind of sucked. I was trying to convince myself I liked him, that we were in love for a really long time. I’d write him all these really long love letters, that he basically read days after the fact that I wrote them. He’d compliment me once in a while, but then I realized when it was only when he wanted something.” you respond, sighing.

Satoru doesn’t respond, only squeezes your hand in response to the entire bout of word vomit you just gave him.

“Why don’t you like your dad?” you ask.

“He thinks I’m perfect.” Satoru responds, sighing.

“Boo hoo.” you respond, joking.

He smiles in response, his hand lightly loosening in yours. You tighten your grip against his again, giving him your best smile.

“I’m joking, ‘Toru. What did you mean by that?”

“I just mean. He expects so much from me, because I’m his only son. And when I was a kid, he was really hard on me for it. Made me attend all these shitty classes by myself, isolated me from other kids because I was meant to be something great. And I obviously pulled away from him because of it. But then, he kind of…shifted. He was vying so hard for my attention now, that suddenly I became free of all blame, all faults.”

“Well, we both know that’s not true.”

He snorts, dragging you to the end of the railing by the Christmas tree, as you both lean against the little glass panes.

“I just wanted him to be real with me. Tell me when I was good, tell me when I was bad. Not where he was criticizing every move I made but not when he was praising all of them either.”

You nod, turning to your side to hold both of his hands in yours.

“Well, you’re shitty when you’re mean to me. But you’re nice when you’re like this.” you state.

He smiles, that stupid lopsided grin, as he brings his hands around your neck and pulls you in against him. His lips are soft and warm, though you’re not sure how, against your almost frostbitten, cold blue ones. But the warmth that’s blooming in your chest, under your skin, from his hands, from his lips on yours is enough to bring you down.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours as he places a light kiss to the tip of your pink nose.

“What was that for?” you ask, breathless.

“Mistletoe.” Satoru responds, pushing off the little railing and slowly skating away, waiting for him to join you.

You look up, fighting the urge to smile at the small little bundle of leaves and berries above you, as you skate out and join his hand to go around the rink.

There’s an incessant pounding on your door that wakes you up, as you pull on the closest jacket and your glasses as you pad to the door. You open up to find him there, half bored on his phone, as he looks up at you.

“Oh. Hey. Was the spare not under-”

He all but lurches forward, wrapping his hands around your neck as he presses his lips to yours. He’s all too eager, because he’s walking into you so fast that he’s all but pushed you up against the wall behind you, his lips hanging off yours as he smiles into your mouth.

“Y/N.” he hums, smiling into your face.

“Good morning to you too.”

He smiles, wrapping his hands around your wrist, as he leads you back to your bed, quickly peeling your hoodie off your frame as he tucks you into the bed with him. And instead of doing what you thought he was going to do, he’s tucking you tight against his frame, your face tucked into his clavicle, as he brings his arms around yours and holds you tight.

“Did you come all this way to cuddle?”

“I came all this way to kiss you. This is just a bonus.”

You burrow yourself into his skin, leaning your head against his, as your thousand questions swim around in your mind. On what you’re doing, on why he’s here, on if you can even ask.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You have a weird, pinched up look on your pretty face. What is it?” he asks.

“Oh. I was just thinking.” you respond.

“About?”

“Um, what we’re doing.”

“We’re cuddling, silly.” Satoru responds, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I know. But what does that mean?”

Satoru brings his hands up around your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he smiles.

“It means that I just had a really annoying fight with my dad. And I just want to hold you and not think about it.” he responds.

“Oh. Okay, yeah.”

You burrow yourself back into his arms, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs as you hold onto each other. And you’re not sure why you start talking, but you’re filling the silent space with your voice.

“I saw Sukuna the other day.” you murmur.

Satoru brings his hands down, rubbing into the side of your arm as he hums in response.

“Was it okay?”

“Kind of stupid.” you murmur.

“Why?” he asks.

“He came up to me to ask if I was going to go to the end of year banquet that they hold for the seniors going into the masters program.”

“And?��

“I mean, I was planning on it. And then he just felt the need to warn me that he’s bringing his new girlfriend and it was really awkward. He asked me if I was bringing anyone and I said no, just for him to smile in response and then walk away.”

“You should have said you were bringing me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was bringing you.”

“Well, now you are. Plus, my dad…he always gets on my back to go to shit like that since he’s one of the donors. At least now I’ll have something to do there.”

“And what’s that?”

“Annoy you!” he responds.

You reach forward to flick the side of his cheek, before reaching forward to push the hair off of his forehead. The touch must be somewhat soothing to him, because it coaxes him to talk, in the slightest.

“When I was a kid, my dad forced me to go to events like that. All the time. And when I was there…he’d always yell at me for all these different things. My hair was too messy, I wasn’t standing right, I was too loud.”

You brush your thumb on the skin of his cheek, before reaching forward to press a kiss to his skin.

“And after I kind of figured it all out, I was so…irritated that I ever listened. And I’ve tried to stamp it out, that voice telling me to be quiet all the time. But sometimes when I see him…I don’t know. It just comes flooding back.”

You prop your hands up against his chest, resting your head on top of your hands as you look down at him. His eyes are shut as he faces your ceiling, a hand resting behind his head while the other one is secured, firmly around you. In the ray of sunlight peering out of your window, you notice that Satoru has the smallest patch of freckles around his nose.

“I always wondered why you were like that. But somehow, this makes it better.”

“Huh?”

“You were always so…you that sometimes it made me jealous. That you had this unstoppable, vibrant spirit, that you probably had life so easy that no one had stamped it out of you.”

You reach forward, tracing the skin on his cheek, as you continue to talk.

“But this is better. Someone tried to do that to you and you didn’t let them. You’re not weak or timid like me, you don’t let people like that shut you up like I do.”

“You’re not weak or timid.” he responds, cupping the side of your face.

“Satoru.”

“You’ve always stood your ground. Especially when it comes to me.”

“Well, you’re you. Sukuna is…”

“Nothing. You can handle an idiot like Sukuna. And I’ll be there, if he tries to say anything to you and you need me.”

You halfheartedly nod.

“And I’ll be there. If you want to annoy me instead of talking to your dad.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer. Always.”

Satoru presses a kiss to your cheek before running out the door, late for his class. And when you turn on your heel, you find Suguru giving you a wide smile, with an almost teasing look on his face. You glare in response, moving past him to do the dishes.

“Do you need something, Suguru?”

“Are you guys dating?” he asks, resting his chin in his hands as he gives you a jeering smile.

“What’s it to you?” you ask.

“My best friend…my roommate…seems like a very big deal to me.”

“Well, we’re just talking. I don’t know if it’s official, but I think it’s exclusive.” you respond.

“It’s definitely exclusive. He’s liked you for a while.”

You snort, as he comes up at your side and starts drying the dishes.

“No, I’m serious! I promise, he’s not coming around this much just to see me. And I’m sure you’ll make him very happy. Keep him in his place.”

“That’s what he said.” you murmur, smiling.

“Just, don’t get too heated if you guys get into an argument. You’re both the most stubborn people I know, but don’t let that get in the way of anything.”

“Okay, I’ll definitely take relationship advice from someone who pathologically lies to his girlfriend everyday.”

Suguru yanks on the edge of ear and you splash a good amount of dishwater at him in response as you both laugh.

“I’ll have you know, that I told her almost like two days afterwards because I couldn’t stomach it.”

“Huh? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It was just funny watching you guys try to be nice to each other. And then Hiromi was dead set on matchmaking the second she figured out Gojo was all but in love with you.”

You roll your eyes at him in response, as you turn out to walk to the coffee shop before your next class. And as you march to the coffee shop, music blaring in your headphones, you feel a tugging on your elbow as you almost walk in.

You turn around to find an older man, with blue eyes and light hair, smiling at you. And as you tug your headphones off and hear him talk, you know without a doubt that this has to be Satoru’s father.

“Are you Y/N L/N?” he asks, his hands folded perfectly against the crisp pressing off his suit.

“Sure. Who are you?” you ask, yanking your headphones off so they're resting around your ears.

“I’m Satoru’s father.”

“Oh, okay. Can I help you?” you asked, running through your thoughts as you think of what Satoru would want you to do most.

Walk away? Be polite? Insult him?

Insulting him is surely what you want to do. But knowing him, he wouldn’t even want you to talk to him for a second, so you should try your best to abort the conversation in its tracks.

“I’d like to talk to you about your intentions. With my son.” he responds.

“I'd love to do that. But I have to run to class, so I’ll have to go now.”

“Class? What’s your major?”

“Education.”

That must not be the answer he wanted, because he stiffens his jaw before talking again, which just builds onto another reason that this man irritates you.

“Right, well. I’ll be off then.” you respond, trying to move past him.

“Are you dating my son?”

“Not yet. But I think it’s headed that way.” you respond.

“Well, if you’re so intent on attending your class, here’s my phone number. I’d like for you to call me the second you’re out of your class so we can discuss more.” he states, handing you a shiny piece of cardstock.

You begrudgingly take it, shaking his hand as you all but sprint off to your class. But unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching the entire thing play out from the window, with an ice matcha latte in hand just for you.

He trashes the cup as he walks out. He’s always thought matcha was disgusting anyways.

And three days later, you find Satoru in the library. In what might possibly, the most compromising of situations.

You’re a few weeks out from finals, the banquet at the end of the week, and buried with term papers that you need to write. Hence the need to procure your matcha latte, lock yourself in the library for the rest of the week, until you can go to the event with Satoru and let loose before you go home for break.

Except when you’re trekking through the library looking for a place to study, you find that a really large group is populating your usual prime spot near the window, with the big white board that you like to use.

But even more jarring than the stupid white board and spot you’re comfortable in, it’s who is taking up the spot. Because Sukuna and his friends are taking up the entire face and there’s a certain white haired idiot sitting all the way at the end, headphones over his ears as he types away on his laptop.

And you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you walk up to him, all but yanking the headphones off your ears.

“Hi Satoru.”

“Hi Y/N.” he seethes back, matching the anger in your voice.

“I got you a drink, asshole.”

He looks down at your matcha latte, before looking back up at you and rolling his eyes.

“Always intent on not listening to me, aren’t you?”

“I learned from the best, asswipe.” you respond, marching off to the apartment and fighting down the angry tears that are falling out of your eyes.

With the load of finals behind you and the quietness that populates your apartment, you find yourself begrudgingly dragging yourself to the banquet. And curse yourself for letting Satoru convince you, for already putting in an RSVP so early that now you can’t take it away.

The room’s uncomfortably warm, the masses of people moving around each other, cheeks blushed pink from the drinks and flutes in all of their hands. You swipe one off of the tray as someone walks past, intent on filling that cold, awkward feeling in your chest with whatever warmth it can give you.

You take a spot near the corner of the room, a nice vantage point from where you can spot, eye who you can talk to first. Your partner from your English class is stuck talking to your professor, which is frankly a bleak option.

There’s the group of girls from your cohort, but they’re all talking to Sukuna and his girlfriend, which is a big no for you. And you’d love to talk to your advisor, but you’re positive occupying the solo spot on the wall is better than talking to the one professor that everyone hates.

And you spot Satoru, his white hair stark against the crowd, as he talks to Hiromi and Suguru. He’s all dressed up, his tie loose around his neck and the top buttons are undone. You suppose that’s as well as Satoru can present for an event like this anyways, and your heart stings at the premise.

Because there's nothing you want to do more than point it out. That everyone’s dressed up, but he can’t even be bothered to put himself together for this. And you want him to argue back, to sport that stupid shit eating grin he always uses when he argues with you.

It’s irritating. How much it’s killing you to not be with him.

You pull down the edges of your dress, trying to soothe through the creases that are lining on your green dress, as you try your best to stop that tense, uncomfortable feeling from settling in your skin.

On the most annoying cue ever, Sukuna walks up to stand by your side, two drinks in his hand. He gestures for you to take one, which you oblige, as you swallow the irritation on your tongue as he starts talking.

“Y/N.”

“Sukuna.”

“Did you poison my drink? Or are you morally above attempted murder?”

“I believe I am.”

“Shocking, given your track record.”

“Are you here alone?” he asks.

“What’s it to you?”

“It’s just that you RSVP'd for two people. Yet you’re the only one standing here.”

“Are you stalking me now?" you ask, eyeing him.

“Maybe a little bit. I was just curious to see who it was you were seeing now.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Just have to make sure that they take care of you. That’s all.” he states, shrugging

You roll your eyes, putting a sizable amount of distance between you two.

“That’s rich coming from you. Leaving me without a place to live is a real gesture of compassion, Sukuna.”

“Well, I think that-”

A girl, with short brown hair cuts the two of you off, as she excitedly points to the wallpaper above you.

“You’re both standing under the mistletoe!”

You look up, to find a small lock of the plant above the two of you, as you fight the urge to internally groan.

“Right, well. That’s my cue to leave.” you respond, setting the glass down on the table.

Sukuna wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into him as you stumble on the edge of your heels.

“It’s just mistletoe. You have to honor it or that’s like…really shitty luck.” he states, giving you a smile.

“I’ll take my chances. It couldn't possibly be worse than this.”

“Look. I really hate being on bad terms. You were really important to me and I hate to think that you’re out there being mad at me.”

“Right, well. Get used to being disappointed then because I’m clear on where I stand.” you respond.

You make the motions to move again, as Sukuna yanks you back again. Except this time, Satoru’s at your side, nearly shoving him into the wall. He gives you a look, devoid of any emotion, as he adjusts his tie around his neck.

“You’re not going to kiss her.” he states, teetering on the edges of his heels. Like he’s almost bored, so disinterested in the conversation that he’s having with Sukuna right now.

“I was just joking. It wasn’t that serious, I wouldn’t even consider it honestly.” he states, as the words sting your ears. You don’t know whether to be relieved, offended, or extremely agitated by the premise of his comment.

“You’d be so lucky.” he snorts, as you swallow hard.

“Right. We are talking about the same girl, right?” he sneers.

Satoru groans, looking up to the sky, before taking his jacket off and handing it to you. You give him a confused look, to which he smiles, before turning back to Sukuna.

“Rather unfortunate that you chose to mess with the wrong girl. That and the fact that I have no semblance of manners when it comes to these types of things.”

And then Satoru swings straight for his nose, wincing and shaking his knuckles in the air as Sukuna slams into the wall behind him. There’s a loud gasp, head turning to look at the three of you as you swallow hard. There’s a small amount of bright, red blood falling out of his nose as Satoru gives him a shit eating grin.

“Thanks for holding it.” Satoru states, taking the jacket from your hands as the two of you watch Sukuna walk off into the side.

“Right, well-”

“Satoru.”

The two of you turn around to find his father, nose flaring and undoubtedly mad, as he appears at your side. Satoru storms out of the room, agitated, as you follow and run behind him. The air outside is significantly colder, snow sticking to the concrete.

“Are you okay?” you ask, the air so cold that you can see your breath in the air.

“Yes. Are you?” he asks back, turning around to look at you. He’s kicking the tiny flakes of snow in the ground, averting eye contact with you as he talks.

“Yeah. Now, I can yell at you.” you respond, shoving him.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours?” he asks back, seething.

“You. You ignored me for like two days and then I found you in the library being all buddy buddy with Sukuna. And then you punch him in the face for no reason?”

“It wasn’t for no reason.”

“Right. Your hand just jerked through the air and just happened to hit his face.”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?”

You groan, bringing your hands up through your temples, as your frustration comes to a head.

“Why are you pretending this is nothing? Like we're nothing?” you scream, tears burning your eyes at you look at him.

“When did I say this was nothing?”

“’m fucking dying over here to be the person standing next to you, because there’s nowhere else I want to be, and instead I’m standing in the corner trying to avoid you like the plague.”

His eyes twitch, his hands almost fidgeting at your sides as you angrily wipe your tears off your cheeks and smudge the makeup pressed to your face.

“You…you’re so fucking aggravating. You’re mean to me, then you’re nice. You act like you love me, but then you don’t. Your best friend tells me that I basically mean the world to you and then your stupid dad ambushes me outside a coffee shop and basically insults me but-”

“What?” he states.

“What? I just like…don’t know what page you’re on. You make no fucking sense, you’re so..so hot and cold with me instead of just telling me what’s going on. If you didn’t like me anymore, you should have just said that instead of hurting my feelings.” you state, crossing your arms as you turn back from him.

He comes up at your side, eyes wide as he looks down at you. He quickly takes his jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders as the tears stream down your eyes.

“What did my dad say to you? Was it at the coffee shop?” he whispers, hands braced on your shoulders.

“Huh? How’d you know that?”

“Just, tell me.”

“Well, I was going to get my latte. He kind of pulled me aside. Asked me what my intentions were with you. Made some weird backhanded comment about me being an education major and-”

“And?”

“Gave me his business card. Told me to call him because I kept trying to leave. I think I threw it in a trash can or something.”

Satoru groans, leaning his forehead against your shoulder, as he curses.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” he murmurs, eyes pinched in regret as he lifts his head back up.

“What?”

“Shit. I-I got mad at you. For talking to my dad, behind my back and not telling me. I thought…he was asking you for information about me and you were obliging. That you took his card so you could call him.”

“You watched that entire thing?”

“Yeah. And I saw you shove the card into your pocket as you walked away and I just got so angry that I-”

“That you what?”

“Hung out with Sukuna. To make you mad.”

You glare at him, shoving him again for good measure.

“You did what?”

“I was upset! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to it was just that-”

“You didn’t even think to ask me? You just had to be petty?” you scream, your frustration building.

His eyes go wide, as he swallows hard. He burrows his hands into his pockets, lifting them from your shoulders as he casts his head down. You can tell that his skin is burning, it’s turning slightly pink, as you realize that the reason the two of you weren’t here together, stupidly laughing at everyone, was because of a simple miscommunication.

“Satoru.” you groan, lifting your hand to your forehead.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

“In what world was that fair to me? You didn’t even think to ask?”

Satoru takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up to cover his eyes with. Your knuckles are flat against his forehead, the ends of his hair tickling your skin.

“Y/N. I’m so shit at this type of stuff. You’re far too put together for me.”

“I’m not expecting you to be put together. Just to kind of…work with me here.” you murmur, as he rests his head against your frame again. You’re wrapping your arms around his torso, deflating into his touch.

“Yeah, well. All I know how to do is fight and-”

“If you say you’ll love me rather than fight with me, I’ll forgive you.”

“Huh?”

“Just promise. That you’ll try to love me. And forgive me before you turn to fighting.” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands.

“Y/N. I-”

“You have so many walls that I’m trying to break through. Just try to work with me here when I’m trying to do it.” you whisper.

“There you go. Doing that thing again.”

“Doing what?”

“Seeing the best in me. Making me want to be better.”

You smile, leaning your head to the side.

“Is that so bad?”

“No. No, just. Try to be patient with me? I know I’m really shitty at this type of thing but-”

“As long as you stick around. And don’t ignore me for five days like a fucking asshole, I promise I will.”

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the palms of your hands still secured around his face, as he leans his own forehead against yours.

“Okay. Just, give it to me straight when…when I do stuff like this.”

“Okay. I hate it when you’re stupid as fuck and jump to conclusions. Like genuinely, it’s really irritating that I spent all of finals week sleeping in my bed alone when it was obscenely cold and you weren’t there. And you just had to assume shit when you didn’t-”

“Okay, I get it. Get to the good parts now.”

“Ego-maniac.”

“Cmon. I’m wounded here.” he states, holding his bruised hand up to you. You take it in yours, pressing a kiss to the red skin before continuing.

“I like when you talk to me. And when we get to keep moving forward, past this type of stuff. It’s like…the best part of a story. You get to see the conflict be resolved and then keep going.”

He smiles hard, nodding at your words.

“You have to kiss me.” he states.

“Why?”

“I’m going to pretend I’m not offended by that heinous look on your face at the thought of kissing me. But, mistletoe.”

You look up, to find a set of tiny Christmas lights with little embellishments in them, one of which is mistletoe.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Yes, it does.”

“That’s not real mistletoe.”

He pouts, rolling his eyes at you.

“Fine. Don’t kiss me then.”

You wrap your hand around his wrist, yanking him down by the tie to press a kiss to his soft, warm lips. They’re enough to warm up your frozen, nearly frostbitten blue ones, as he shakes his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and smiling into the kiss.

And you take solace in the fact that at least for that night, the conflict is over. And the story continues.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

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