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seijaelee · 5 months ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Click here for your link to heaven (aka seperate Gojo Satoru Masterlist)

Dying ray of sunshine The year after the incident with Toji has put your longtime relationship with Suguru Geto to the test. But one fateful decicion will change everything forever.

Dying ray on sunshine pt. ll After searching for your former boyfriend Suguru for 10 years, he finally shows himself again at the Night Parade. You try your best to convince him back into your open arms, but it seems like the man you love is gone forever.

Us against the world Suguru and you are inseperable, like ying and yang long before the both of you joined Jujutsu High. Despite you are technically a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you made your way up with him always by your side. Until something changed. Until it wasn't "us against the world" anymore.

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Getting back home drunk after an argument with Suguru Geto You always supressed the pain in your heart when your boyfriend dumps you for his best friend again. Until one day you've had enough. Until you get uncontrollably drunk to forget your fight.

Geto encouraging you to eat more after growing up in a toxic household After your toxic parents tried to force you into their picture of a thin and docile wife, you left them as soon as possible and became the best version of yourself - if it wasn't for your bad eating habits still haunting you down when you're out with your boyfriend. Until he decides to have a talk with you...

Die with a smile Despite the dark part he has chosen, Suguru finds himself drawn back to you. In a rain-soaked encounter, both of you face the heartbreaking reality that love can't save him from the path of destruction he's committed to.

Geto being forced to kiss you during a mission but shamelessly making out with you instead It was an easy mission like many others before. Get in, find the suspect, free the innocent. Well, if it wasn't for none other than Geto Suguru who has to play your boyfriend. If it wasn't for that fateful situation that forces you into a heated kiss.

Should have told her While being secretely in love with you since joining Jujutsu High, Nanami never admitted his feelings to you. Only after you nearly die in a fight and are on the brink of death, he begins to realize how much you really mean to him

Don't be shy You are an outspoken, confident and skilled member of Jujutsu High. But when it comes to Nanami Kento, you suddendly become all flustered and shy. When you are set on a mission together he finally confronts you.

Whisper of the death With your character of pure gold, it isn't hard for Nanami to fall for you despite the fact that you are the little sister of his best friend. However, your world is turned upside down after both men return from their last mission...

Beautiful mistake You are in a secret but healthy relationship with none other than Nanami Kento despite being the sunshine to his rain. Until one day, you accidentaly spoil your secret to Gojo Satoru.

Nanami losing it completely when (y/n) gets severely injured at Shibuya After receiving a message with your location, Nanami rushes to your side, showing no mercy with the man who laid his hands on you.

Nanami hiding his scars from his girlfriend after surviving Shibuya no words needed

Nanami and Gojo's little sister meeting up again years after their ugly breakup It's been some hell of years since Nanami left Gojo's younger sister for another woman. But when her big brother invites her to Jujutsu HIgh again, things start to unveil...

Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Nanami's girlfriend watching him being in full dad-mode with Yuji After finally coming back home from a mission far away, all you want to do is seeing your precious boyfriend Kento again. But instead of a afternoon of cuddling him, you get to see him act like a real dad towards a new student.

Nanami's reaction to his daughter wearing a jumper saying "I love daddy" After the incidents of Shibuya and his wife getting severely injured, Nanami is relieved to know his new family safe and sound. A little suprise from his precious wife seems to be enough to make a grown man cry in joy though...

Kento Nanami and his wife losing their unborn child in Shibuya It seemed like a normal evening when you passed out on the couch, not aware of Haruta sneaking into your shared apartment until he pierces his blade through your pregnant stomach. How will your husband react, finding out what happened to you?

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you (apparentely yellow text is gone wtf) He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

In Quiet Understanding At a lively work party, you're cornered by the pressure to drink - a personal boundary you’re not ready to cross. Just as the moment becomes unbearable, Nanami steps in, quietly taking the shot for you. In his calm, understated way, he shows that sometimes the loudest support is silent.

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Caught Megumi knows it isn't allowed to visit you after curfew late at night, but the temptation is just too great. However, it is percisely this night that Gojo noticed the both of you and finds you in a rather unfavorable situation.

Luck in misfortune After you get seriously injured by a cursed and saved by Megumi, he begins to develop feelings for you he never imagined could exist.

The razor's edge The news that your boyfriend Megumi got badly injured on a mission makes you come to Jujutsu High immediately to stand by his side.

Opposites attract Megumi hated you the moment you stepped into Jujutsu High for the first time. As time flies, he always sees himself confronted with you on missions. However, one of these missions makes him rethink his feelings towards you

Save you After you recklessly risk your own life to save his, Megumi can't hold back his feelings any longer

Yuji's sunshine sister with grumpy Megumi Despite the fact that Megumi is the complete opposite of you, he can't help but secretely having a crush on you. It isn't until you get severely injured by Mahito that Megumi begins to realize it can't go on like this...

Gojo's little sister kissing her childhood crush Megumi for the first time at Shibuya Even though your brother told you over and over to stay away from Shibuya, you are on your way to save him when you fall into the open arms of Megumi. Is this the right time to finally confess your feelings to your childhood crush?

Getting lost at a haunted house only to get saved by Megumi Fushiguro After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

I told you to stay When finding out your boyfriend of a year, Toji, secretly has a whole family behind your back, you decide to leave him. Of course, he won't allow that so easily.

Toji Fushiguro coming back to live to save (y/n) at Shibuya No words needed

Geto's little sister melting like butter in Toji's hands When your brother and Satoru arrive at Jujutsu High with the star plasma vessel, things start to get heated. But instead of running away like you're told to, you follow your brother. Only to be alone with a certain someone...

Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia no words needed

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya no words needed

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya pt. ll After getting back on track of saving her big brother, (y/n) catches Mahito's attention. Choso has to decide if he continues searching for Yuji or rushed to her aid before she gets killed.

Teaching Choso about Christmas and kissing under the mistletoe Even though Choso thinks he's seen it all by now, the idea of Christmas just doesn't reach him until you show him the tradition of kissing underneath a mistletoe...

Choso realizing what love is when you almost sacrifice your life to save his It was always a mystery to Choso Kamo, the way human emotions seem to work. But when you yank yourself right into Uraume's attack in order to save him, he slowly but surely begins to understand.

Choso getting hopelessly seduced by another blood manipulator It seemed so easy at first: find Itadori Yuji, kill him, take revenge. Only until you showed up and captivated Choso Kamo, only until you showed him what you can...

Megumi's little sister falling head over heels for Yuji (and maybe Sukuna?) pt. l After being set on a mission with your crush Yuji, your big brother and Nobara, things don't go as planned as all and force Yuji to sacrifice himself before you have the chance to tell him how you feel. Until Sukuna appears...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. ll) After the incident of Yuji almost losing his life and Megumi's little sister confessing her feelings to him, they finally live in peace. But then Shibuya comes around as well as suppressed Sukuna who takes interest in you...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. lll) After promising Sukuna to do everything he wants in exchange for him sparing your friends, you find yourself in a bitter fight with Jogo. While you feel like dying, Sukuna enjoys teasing the hell out of you...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. lV) Sukuna enjoys every second with you by his side. But when Yuji slowly but surely begins to fight back, Sukuna has to act quickly. A sweet innocent kiss before he has to go, before Yuji Itadori gains back his body...

(y/n)'s deal with the devil to save Nobara's life (pt. V) You've been through so much at Shibuya, seeing the love of you get taken over by Sukuna and finally getting him back. But this time, it will be you who begs on her knees for the king of curses to arrive in order to save your best friend's life...

You being made from Yuji's and Megumi's big booty dreams Personality counts, but a big ass does as well

Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Part 2 After dropping the bomb of getting yourself pregnant from him despite not seeing each other for 500 years, Sukuna can't contain his temper. But you're too strong, you are too hot to resist you any longer...

Yuji taking you on an ice-skating date You never went ice-skating in your entire life, but when Yuji asks you out...Who are you to say no to your secret crush?

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup short lil comfort for whoever needs it

Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it

Being held hostage by Ryomen Sukuna How you ended up in Sukuna's prison instead of getting killed in an instant? You don't know. What you do know however that the king of curse has more to offer than what you ever imagined...

Darlin', can I be your favorite? In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Sukuna pretending he's Yuji to catch a taste of you What you expected after finally meeting your boyfriend after losing him in Shibuya? Definitely not the king of curses trying to kiss you.

Sweet Affection Until he met you, Sukuna never believed in something as worthless as love and affection. But when you treated him like no one ever did before, when you showed him what affection might look like, he tumbles...

Wicked games From the second Ryomen Sukuna appears on the surface on earth again, you are bound to each other. Until the Shibuya accident. Until Sukuna gets confronted with the fear of losing you first-hand.

Daring Sukuna and getting what you wished for 18+ What's even more stupid than encountering Ryomen Sukuna by accident? Betting with Yuji that you'll touch his soul on your own. Setting him free. Getting pleasured by him like never before.

Yuta going nuts when finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.

We're just friends...right? You told it yourself over and over while you whimpered against his neck. You are nothing but friends, no one has to know about him and you. Until Yuta ignores your presence the next day, until you realize that you don't want him like a best friend...

Yuta saving your ass in Shibuya You have enough. After fighting for multiple hours in Shibuya, you are the brink of giving up your life, of giving up the pondering about a future with Yuta. Little do you know he's already on his way to Shibuya...

Comforting Toge Inumaki after he lost his arm in Shibuya yup that's basically it

How JJK men react to other girls flirting with them/reader getting insulted ft. Gojo, Megumi and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader ft. Megumi, Nanami and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader part lll ft. Toji, Geto, Haibara and Choso

How JJK men act when they're jealous ft. Megumi and Gojo

JJK men turning the usual confident reader shy ft. Yuta, Geto and Megumi

Shibuya arc scenarios that live in my head rent free part l ft. getting sealed along with Gojo, Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured ft. Nanami, Megumi, Toji and Geto

JJK men in and after a fight ft. Goto, Megumi and Nanami

JJK men in and after a fight pt. ll ft. Geto, Choso and Yuji

JJK men with drunk reader ft. Choso and Nanami

JJK men with drunk reader pt. ll ft. Geto, Megumi and Gojo

JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms) ft. Gojo, Nanami and Megumi

JJK men after hurting (y/n) ft. Choso and Gojo

How JJK men react when you fall asleep on top of them ft. Nanami, Gojo and Inumaki

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 1 ft. Nanami (gn!reader's facial scars), Megumi (fem!reader with small breasts) and Sukuna (gn!reader with acne)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 2 ft. Nanami (reader doesn't want kids), Gojo (reader who gained weight), Megumi (reader with hooked nose)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 3 ft. Nanami (overweight reader), Choso (reader with big breasts), Yuji/Todo (tall/curvy reader)

How JJK men act when you can't sleep ft. Gojo, Inumaki and Megumi

JJK men with a small-chested reader ft. Toji, Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna and Geto

JJK men with a big-chested reader ft. Nanami, Geto, Yuji/Sukuna and Gojo

Stitching JJK men up or at least trying to ft. Gojo, Toji and Yuta

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men ft. Gojo, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna

Making JJK men realize what love is ft. Geto, Sukuna and Toji

Seeing JJK men shirtless for the first time ft. trueform! Sukuna, Nanami, Choso, Gojo and Geto, Ino, Toji and Ijichi

Getting caught while making out with JJK men ft. Geto, Gojo and Nanami

Slow kissing turning into aggressively making out with JJK men ft. Gojo, Sukuna and Toji

Meeting your ex jjk boyfriend again after your breakup ft. Gojo and Toji

JJK men when you go into labor ft. Toji, Geto, Gojo and Sukuna

JJK men pretending to date you to get rid of unwanted attention ft. Geto, Megumi, Choso and Gojo

How JJK men react to seeing you in their clothes ft. Gojo, Megumi, Yuta and Nanami

Going to "your spot" after the breakup and finding your ex jjk men there ft. Gojo, Geto, Megumi and Yuji/Sukuna

Click here for a full list of shorts and drabbles!

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seijaelee · 6 months ago

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WELCOME!

燥乘葬臓葬 綜臓葬 鎗像贈蔵 像蒼 霜像促走葬蔵, 蔵葬臓走葬蔵, 草鎗走増蔵, 綜騒荘 綜騒即 遭走騒荘 像蒼 促走荘葬像蔵 贈乘綜贈 即像造 草綜騒 増走草遭 蒼臓像霜 贈乘走蔵 蔵走贈葬. 清鎗鎗 像蒼 贈乘葬 草臓葬綜贈走像騒 聡葬鎗像側 聡葬鎗像騒藻蔵 贈像 贈乘葬 荘走臓葬草贈像臓 綜騒荘 増臓像荘造草葬臓, 精即草葬葬, 生綜則蔵贈乘葬贈走草. 燥綜遭葬 即像造臓 贈走霜葬 綜騒荘 乘像増葬 即像造 葬騒送像即 綜鎗鎗 像蒼 贈乘葬 側像臓遭蔵. 製綜促葬 綜 藻臓葬綜贈 荘綜即 綜騒荘 霜綜即 即像造 乘綜促葬 綜 側像騒荘葬臓蒼造鎗 鎗走蒼葬!

Keep reading

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seijaelee · 6 months ago

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I recently told an ao3 writer that I keep going back to their 260k word unfinished slowburn checking for updates for the last 2 years. They said I'm like that puppy that waits for his dead owner at the train station every day.

That's the realest thing anyone's told me online, I ain't even mad.

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seijaelee · 10 months ago

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Against the World SO17 - 02. Summer Tournament

Pairings: Shohei Ohtani x reader

Summary: It's the summer tournament. Y/n is trying to tackle her own fears in order to support her best friend

Word Count: 6.1 k

Previous Masterlist Next

The summer heat slowly began to creep in as time passed. It’s nearing summer already; spring has long been forgotten. Their uniforms had been replaced with shorter versions, as everyone was already preparing for the summer season.

For the past few weeks, the sun had been hotter than ever. It persistently shone up in the sky, giving them its warm embrace without fail.

Summer means a lot of things. It means the golden week will be coming very soon – as well as its tons and tons of homework. It means going to the pool and the beaches. It means summer festival and fireworks. It means what a time to be alive, especially for teenagers like them. Teenagers who are still searching for more adventure in their life.

But so some, summer, means some other things.

Y/n knows, that to Shohei, Summer means Koshien.

“Are you nervous for this weekend?”

Sipping on a bottle of orange juice, Shohei shook his head. Typical, thought y/n with a raised eyebrow. The other teen had always been hardly fazed by anything.

The two of them are sitting on the rooftop, watching the soccer match that’s happening down the field. It was lunchtime, and the two of them decided to eat their lunch while basking in the summer heat. Truthfully, y/n hates getting under the sun without any good reason, but Shohei’s good at pleading.

And the heaps of sunscreen that she had plastered across her face and arm definitely helped.

“Well, aren’t you a confident person?” she mumbled as a response.

Shohei had always been a confident person, after all. He is so sure of himself and his skill that he becomes hardly unfazed by anything.

“I’m more excited than nervous,” answered the boy, a grin already forming on his face. No doubt, he’s already imagining the upcoming match this weekend. “I mean, I’ve been waiting for it for so long.”

He must’ve been waiting for the opportunity for so long. She knows that he has practiced day and night, every day, after all.

“I’m excited to go to Koshien,” he continued. “I can’t wait already.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that. “You’re sure that the team will be going to Koshien?”

Shohei let out a laugh at that as if she had just said something funny. Sue her for having a bit of doubt. Even if you don’t follow baseball, as long as you live in Japan, you will know that Koshien is the pinnacle of high school baseball. It’s the highest stage that you can achieve before going pro. It’s the stage where major baseball stars have been scouted in the past.

“I am,” he replied. “I’ve never been surer in anything.”

It must be nice to be that confident.

Letting out a nod, she gave his shoulder a soft nudge. “Koshien or no, I think you will do great during the tournament.”

“I know I will be great.”

At this, she hits his back softly. “And here I am trying to be a good friend,” grumbled the girl. “I’m not going to wish you any more good luck in the future.”

A bark of laughter escaped Shohei at that as he tipped his head back. He sounds so amused that it irks her a bit. “I’m just joking,” he said, tears already forming in his eyes due to the sudden laughter. “I know I will be great, but your good luck wish will make my performance greater,” he stopped at this. “I think.”

“You think!?”

He merely let out an even louder laugh.

Biting on her chocolate bread, y/n kept listening to the other teen ramble about the upcoming match. Chocolate bread had not been her first choice for lunch, but the moment Shohei had seen her salad with a meager portion, he had insisted that she eats the bread that he had brought for snacking.

“-And you’re really coming right to the match?”

It took her a moment to respond. Y/n remembers the smile that Shohei shot her a few days ago when he had asked her to come. How the sun draped across his features as he uttered words that she didn’t think she would ever hear again in her lifetime.

She is coming to a baseball game.

What a joke.

Past her probably would’ve laughed at her face.

After so many years of hating baseball, now she decided that she’s going to finally watch a match? And it’s not even a professional match. It’s a high school baseball match played by students. The level of skill should be different from that of pro players.

It doesn’t make sense. Everything doesn’t make sense.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be coming,” she finally answered, throat bobbled uncomfortably for a bit. There’s an uncomfortable feeling that’s looming inside her gut. Something persistent. Something dreadful.

And yet, why is she agreeing on this?

“That’s nice,” he replied with a large smile, it made her almost forget the unpleasant feeling that she was having right now. Almost. It’s something that his smile managed to consistently do. Always made her feel better. “My parents will also be coming to that match, considering it’s my debut and all.”

“Debut?” she laughed, desperately squashing her nervousness and dread. “I thought I’m the idol between the two of us?”

“Baseball debut,” he replied with a huff.

“But yeah, I will be coming,” continued y/n. “I do have some auditions to attend during this weekend, though, so I’ll probably go to Tokyo straight after the games. How long do you think the game will take?”

“Straight to Tokyo?” echoed Shohei. “Are you not tired? And it’s usually 2 to 3 hours by train.”

“I am tired,” grumbled out y/n as she leaned back on her chair. “But what can I do? Most of the auditions happen in Tokyo.”

Shohei hummed at that, finally finishing his orange juice. Crumbling the box with his hand, he tossed it to the trash bin near them. He did it with almost perfect accuracy. Athletes.

“Do you have the time to chat after the game?” he said after a while. “Just for a bit?”

Her mind went to her booked train ticket. It really depends on how long the game will last. If it’s a long game, well, she won’t have the time to do it. But if it’s a short one, she will be able to squeeze in a chat with Shohei for a while.

“Depends,” she answered. “Are you going to strike out the batters quickly?”

The boy hummed at that.

“With the right motivation, I probably can.”

When he was five, Shohei decided that he was going to be a baseball player.

Despite his young age, it was not a decision that he made on a whim. He made the decision when he realized how fun baseball is that the sport had become an integral part of his young age. That there will always be a proud gleam in his father’s eyes whenever he sees Shohei playing baseball.

Ever since then, he had always followed the expected path of a budding baseball talent.

He joins the little league team that his father coached. He follows his father’s guidance, concentrating on how to become the best player out there. He joined all the expected tournaments and won and broke records – as expected of him.

Entering Hanamaki Higashi for high school, too, had always been something expected of him. After all, it’s the best baseball school in Iwate. It’s the school that produced Yusei Kikuchi. It’s the high school that managed to go to Koshien before.

For someone who lives and breathes baseball, entering Hanamaki Higashi is expected.

Expected, expected, expected. It’s the path that had been laid out in front of him. Just like the piece of paper that the coach had asked him to fill during his first day in the team. A piece of paper full of his dreams and expectations of the future. A carefully made plan that he had planned with his father for years.

But still-

Friendship with y/n is something unexpected to him.

The first time he had seen her was during the first day when the class quieted down as she entered the room, and everyone stared at her with something akin to reverence.

Y/n looks as if she’s an angel that was dropped down from the sky.

Glittering hair under the sunlight and a healthy flush across her face. She walks with so much grace that it automatically makes people’s eyes to follow her. Every time she smiles, someone seems to hold their breath, just watching the girl brighten up the room with a simple quirk on her lips.

He knows that the girl is beautiful. He thinks that everyone in the school knows that. The excited chatters of his team as they talked about the prettiest girl in school. The hushed whispers about her already debuting as an idol back in Tokyo, as well as her half-foreign blood, make her the school idol in no time.

Frankly, back then, he couldn’t see him being friends with y/n.

After all, they lived in a different world. Her, under the glitz and glamor of the entertainment industry, and him, under the scorching sun and dirt as he played baseball. If he had looked at it objectively, the friendship between people with such different interests is almost hard to do.

When they got put to sit together, he really couldn’t find any topic to talk about with the girl. He doesn’t recognize anything that she talks about with her friends, and y/n looks disinterested in baseball. For some time, their conversations are only limited to school subjects and their homework.

But then, as he watched an NPB match, he accidentally saw a familiar figure.

Glittering hair under the stadium lights and a healthy flush across her face. A smile so bright that it made the stadium watch this unknown girl who was doing the first pitch.

Y/n-san, he had thought, eyes widening as he watched the girl moving on the screen.

Thoughts about the match almost went forgotten as he watched the first pitch ceremony. The stadium itself was not full, which is understandable, considering it’s not time for the game to start yet. But still, as someone who lives and breathes baseball, to see someone that he knows throwing the first pitch of an NPB team had been an interesting experience.

After that, he fell into a rabbit hole. He recalled the conversation from the locker room, how she was an idol from Tokyo. Shohei immediately looked it up, mostly because of the curiosity that was gnawing inside of his mind. One video turns into another, and before he knew it, he had watched more than a dozen videos of the small-time idol called y/n l/n.

Their meeting in the mall that led to their daily jog together, their growing conversations in class, and the way they spent almost every second of their time together.

Months ago, if you asked Shohei if he thinks he will befriend the girl who’s sitting at the desk next to him, he would’ve said no.

But alas, here he is, waving at the girl who had come to watch the baseball club practice.

Now, a few months after their initial first meeting, he’s confident to say that y/n is his best friend. His closest confidante. The one that he told everything about.

Noticing his small wave almost immediately, y/n waved back, a cheeky grin on her face as she sat there with a friend of hers – Nishikawa-san. The both of them are sitting in a seat just outside of the tall fence that separates the baseball field and the school grounds. Around them, are other students and teachers that sometimes also watch the baseball team’s practice.

Nishikawa-san said something to Y/n’s ear, making her laugh, and for a second, Shohei had a hard time averting his gaze. He thinks anyone in the world will have a hard time looking away when they see that laugh.

“Dude,” whispered one of the baseball club members, yanking him by the shoulder. “Did l/n-san just wave at you!?”

Shohei blinked. “We’re friends,” he said simply, finally turning his gaze towards his teammate.

“With the prettiest girl in school!” answered the other a bit aggressively. “I’m so jealous!”

He knows that y/n is popular. She’s always in the conversation when they’re talking about the prettiest girls in school. He also had seen a couple of letters being shoved into her shoe locker, but most of them remained unopened as y/n decided to ignore them often. However, knowing her popularity and seeing it firsthand is a bit different.

“We sit together,” he replied, slinging an arm around his teammate’s shoulder. “Let’s go, the coach is calling for us.”

As they jog towards the rest of the team, his mind still wanders towards the girl. It’s a bit hard not to think about her, as she always commands the majority of the attention inside of a room. Even now, he could see several glances directed towards her or plain staring from the people around them.

But Shohei needs to focus. Summer is approaching, and they have a goal to achieve this year.

Koshien, he thought. The field of dreams for every high school baseball player. The tournament that will change the life of every high school baseball player.

So many stars are born through Koshien. So many scouts came for Koshien, searching for the next big thing through their keen eyes. Shohei himself is determined to become a professional baseball player. He has no career option besides professional baseball players. His future is basically that or a bust. That or nothing.

This weekend, Shohei will start for his school for the first time. It’s the summer tournament, the very tournament that will decide their Koshien ambition. It will be a lie to say that he’s not nervous. After all, he’s so nervous that he can’t sleep at night. There are more than a thousand things that could go wrong. More than a million things that could go wrong because of him, ending their Koshien journey this year.

Maybe that’s why he had asked y/n to come and attend the game. He thinks, that if he sees the girl on the stand, it can relieve some of his nervousness.

To see her cheering for him will be an energizer that he needs for his first start in his high school career. This is a pivotal moment for his future. Whether the coach thinks that he has the potential or not for the big stage will be decided this weekend.

He thinks that the girl is not interested in baseball, but that’s okay. Shohei thinks that he can change her mind after the game.

After all, baseball is the best.

What is she doing here? Thought y/n as she stands in front of the stadium.

Y/n could feel the dread that was slowly climbing into her throat. It’s a bit suffocating. A bit alarming.

It’s been years since she watched a baseball game. An amazing feat considering how baseball-obsessed Japan as a country is. She had avoided the sport for so long and had been so successful in doing it, too.

So why is she here?

Will she abandon all of her efforts just for a boy?

But it’s not just a boy, a voice whispered inside his mind. It’s her best friend. The boy with a bright smile and such a big love for baseball. Shohei always looks so bright and happy every time he talks about baseball. She knows that the sport is everything to him. That his asking her to be here and watch his first baseball game is an important request for him.

That her presence her matters. That he will be looking at her through the crowd.

The dread is still there, though. It’s still clawing at her throat insistently. It still reminds her why she hates the sport. Why, for her future sake, she should avoid it altogether.

She shouldn’t be here.

She hates baseball! Why is she even here-

“Hey,” said Ami, hitting her shoulder lightly. “What are you staring at? The game is starting soon!”

Ami decided to tag along. Y/n thinks she did this because she realized how pale she had become when she accepted Shohei’s request. The girl had always had a keen eye, after all, which is one reason why they got along so well.

“I- “started y/n. “I don’t think I can do this-“

“What are you talking about!” exclaimed Ami as she practically dragged the other girl into their seat. “We’re already here!”

“No-“ she started, stopping the both of them on their track. “I don’t- Seriously, I don’t think I can- I- I-“

“Hey,” Ami’s voice stopped her sentence. There’s a grounding hand on her shoulder, effectively clearing her mind for a bit. Beneath her lashes, y/n could see the concerned look that the other girl was wearing now. “Y/n-chan, are you okay?”

Are you okay?

Is she okay?

Is she okay standing here in the middle of a baseball stadium?

No- no. No, she’s not okay.

“No,” she rasped out. “I- I don’t think I’m okay.”

Ami shifted her gaze towards the clock near them. There’s still plenty of time before the game starts. Deciding in an instant, Ami immediately grabbed y/n’s hand before guiding her elsewhere. A more secluded spot where not many people will be around.

Sitting on one of the benches, she touched y/n’s cheek gently, forcing her to stare at her eyes.

“Hey,” she said. “What happened?”

“I-“ started y/n, but she stopped. She could tell her. She could tell the girl in front of her the reason why she hated baseball so much, why she didn’t want to be here. Why her being in this stadium just to watch a high school baseball game is a mistake?

But by doing so, it means that she will have to bear all of her heart to see.

Y/n likes to think that she’s a simple person.

She’s someone closed off. Someone cheery and happy in front and broody and solemn behind everyone’s back. It’s part of her idol mask. A demand that she should always keep this extroverted mask for all to see.

For Ami to understand why she hates being here, she will have to tell her everything. Everything about the mistake of her birth.

She hates it.

She hates being vulnerable.

Ami still sat there, right in front of her, watching her silently. Forever seems to pass between the two of them as y/n’s throat bobbles uncomfortably. She’s at a loss for what she should do.

“Hey,” started the other girl. “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I won’t prod anymore.”

Y/n is still silent at that, peering at Ami through her lashes.

Ami let out a sigh, the grounding hand on her shoulder was still there. Rubbing small circles.

“I’” started y/n. “My father left me and my mom before I was born.”

“… Ah,” said Ami after a long silence.

“He was a baseball player.”

“… Ah.”

Silence descends between the two of them again.

“My mom also left me when I was 10,” said Ami finally. “She was an asshole.”

“… at least you have a father?”

The other girl let out a small snort at that. “I could say the same thing about your mom.”

Another silence descends between the two of them.

Distantly, she could see the people that were passing in front of them. All of them are enraptured in their own world. Barely paying any attention to a girl with puffy eyes and uneven breathing.

It feels oddly calming. That despite everything, a lot of people won’t notice her vulnerability.

The silence was broken by Ami’s question. “Do you still want to watch the match?”

Her first instinct is to say no.

But Shohei’s bright grin and the promise that they had made on the school rooftop echoed inside her mind.

It played inside of her head over and over again. Repeating itself as if y/n would ever forget. As if she will ever forget the way Shohei’s face brightened at the healthy tan that decorated his skin – a sign of his dedication to the craft of baseball.

She closed her eyes, trying to tame her mind.

This is different, she thought. This match is different.

It’s not her father who is playing down the field. It’s Shohei. Her best friend. The boy that’s sitting next to her.

Down there, it’s not her American father who left her mom when she was heavily pregnant with her mom. It’s not her father who never bothered to call back despite all of the desperate voice notes that her mom had sent. It’s not her father who had never taken any responsibility towards her, resulting in her mom having three different jobs just to make sure that they’ll stay afloat.

It’s not her father who parades around his American dream family to everyone on national television.

Down there, the one who will be playing is Ohtani Shohei.

The boy who had dragged her for an early jog every morning. The boy with a sweet tooth and an even sweeter smile. The boy who had told her that she will become a star with such an utter conviction that she started to believe in herself despite all of her previous failures and setbacks.

It’s Shohei who will be playing.

Not her father.

The color that will be flying today is the familiar grey and purple of Hanamaki Higashi. Not the familiar and yet distant white and blue.

Letting out a deep breath, y/n lets out a nod. “Yeah,” she replied after a long while. “Let’s go inside.”

Ami stared at her, unblinking.

“You know,” she started. “If we go home right now, I won’t complain,” said the other girl. “Are you really sure that you’re okay with it?”

You have a heavy trauma with baseball; after all, it was left unsaid. Y/n appreciates it. Currently, she’s not in the mood to tackle it head-on.

“Yeah,” answered y/n. “I just needed some time to think.”

With a nod, Ami stood up, arm reaching for her. They walked inside the stadium like that, with their arm linked together.

“If it’s ever too much,” murmured Ami, “Just let me know, okay?”

Y/n gave her a grateful nod as she squeezed the girl’s hand.

As they enter, for the first time in years, y/n gets her first glimpse of a baseball match.

She could see the green grass stretching across the field as well as rows and rows of spectators. The air around them was buzzing, as she could hear horns and yells of celebrations being thrown left and right by the people around them. The announcers could be heard through the air, hyping the crowd for today’s match.

Y/n had expected a big crowd. After all, this is the quarterfinals of the summer tournament.

But still, she could feel the shiver running down her spine as she took up the atmosphere around them.

Even when she threw the first pitch for the Tigers all those months ago, the atmosphere back then can’t be compared to what she’s seeing right now. The height of everyone’s excitement could be seen across everyone’s faces, a far cry from the half-empty stadium that she saw during her first pitch ceremony.

Ami immediately dragged her toward their designated seat.

She watched at the rows and rows of purple and purple near them. The cheering squad of their baseball team is highly spirited, already hollering and cheering for the team despite the first pitch not being thrown yet. There are rows of baseball team members, as well as cheerleaders, already prepared to cheer for the team with all their might.

Merchandises with purple and grey themes could be seen, such as small flags or trumpets. Even the cheerleaders are wearing forms with that color format.

Looking down at her purple top, y/n felt a bit unprepared as she didn’t bring anything to cheer for the team. Ami, too, stared at the cheering squad with amazement clear on her face.

“They really come prepared,” said the girl as the both of them took their seat. They’re sitting really closely with the cheering squad.

Nodding, she lets out a sheepish laugh. “And we brought nothing.”

Their conversation caught one of the cheering squad member’s attention, and he widened his eyes at the sight of them.

“Oh!,” he said, gaining both of their attention. “You guys are students at our school, right?”

Sharing a glance with Ami, y/n gave him a bright smile, trying to look a tad more friendly despite the red rimming his eyes. “Yeah,” she replied. “We’re cheering for the team.”

“We’re friends with Ohtani-san,” added Ami, as if to add some kind of credibility to their claim.

“Ohtani-kun?” said the member. “Do you guys want some flags or something to cheer the team? We brought extras.”

Nodding gratefully, both y/n and Ami received the flag from the other boy.

“I didn’t expect Ohtani-kun to have friends coming over,” said the boy as they were making a conversation. “He seems really devoted to baseball.”

“He is really devoted to baseball,” replied y/n as she waved the small Hanamaki Higashi flag playfully. “You’re close with him?”

“Ah, no, not really,” answered the other boy. “Ohtani-kun is just famous in the club. He’s the only first year that managed to get into the main team, you know?”

Ami let out a whistle at that. “That’s amazing,” she said. “So, the rest of the cheering squad here are first and second years?”

“Yeah, but we do have some third years, not a lot.”

The game started soon after that. Y/n could feel Ami’s gaze on her as she watched Shohei take up the mound at the top of the first inning. She had seen Shohei in his baseball uniform as she had watched some of the baseball team practice, but still, seeing him like this-

It was as if the one who was standing on the mound was a different person than the bright boy who was sitting next to her during class.

There’s some kind of aura on him as well as a cold look on his face – something that she rarely sees these days. Shohei is a cheery and goofy person. Someone with smiles and laughs can brighten up the room.

The one who is standing down there is Ohtani Shohei, the baseball player.

“He looks good, isn’t he?” asked Ami, a teasing tilt in her tone.

Y/n decided to ignore the teasing. “Yeah,” she said. “He is.”

To say that Shohei did amazing during his first start would be an understatement.

After all, he was dominant. He pitched for seven innings, not letting any run go past him. The batters barely got hits and those who did barely got any good ones. Shohei contributed so much to the team’s defense this game that some people started to whisper his name in awe.

Ohtani this, Ohtani that.

Through it all, y/n watched.

Oh, thought the girl, amidst the loud cheers and celebration around her as the last out was recorded. He is going to be a baseball star, isn’t he?

She watched Shohei impressing everyone in the stadium. She sees how he pitched, how he basically owns all the batters that he faced.

She watched Hanamaki Higashi winning the game, as well as the bright smile on Shohei’s face. It’s the face that she’s familiar with. It's not the cold front that he puts during pitching.

Y/n sees it all, and with that, the first baseball game that she has watched in years ends.

They’re standing just behind the stadium, the hustle and bustle of the crowd around them.

“Do you like the game?” he asked, mouth grinning.

Y/n stared at him. Stared at this tall teen in front of her who was smiling at her like the sun. She stared at this teen who managed to drag her into a baseball game. At the teen who forced her to watch a baseball game despite all of her reservations towards the game.

She was afraid.

Afraid that she will only see her father during the game. Afraid that she would remember the tears that fell onto her mom’s face as she watched the celebration when her dad clinched the World Series. The celebration is where her dad proudly says that his oldest child – a son younger than her – is playing baseball on his little league team.

She watched the older woman grip the necklace around her neck. The only gift that her father had ever given her. She watched and watched. Heart growing cold and gaze going dead as she, too, gazed at the man who had contributed to her birth in this world celebrate the best moment of his life with his little family. A family that does not consist of y/n and her mother.

Today, too, she watched. She watched the baseball game in front of her. She watched Shohei take up the mound with the familiar purple and white uniform of Hanamaki Higashi. She watched as the teen managed to go through seven scoreless innings before being replaced by the closer. She watched and watched, the sun beating down on her face, and yet, it was not the only warmth that she felt during the game.

It was almost a miracle that she didn’t even remember her father throughout the game. It was a miracle that she didn’t even think about him for a second.

All she remembers thinking throughout the game is Shohei and Shohei. How her best friend is taking the mound, how her best friend is finally playing his first big game in his high school baseball career.

It’s Shohei and Shohei inside her head. Only him.

She likes it.

“I like it,” she managed to say, throat bobbing, “I like to see you win.”

I like to see more left unsaid. I like to see you, left unsaid.

Shohei let out a laugh at that, cheeks blooming in happiness. “I like it when I win, too,” he replied. She thinks that it’s a trick of the light, but she swears that the world has become clearer for a bit.

“Of course you do,” she laughed, nudging his arm gently. “You have a competitive streak a mile wide.”

“Like you don’t,” he teased back. “You’re going to Tokyo after this, yeah? For that magazine photoshoot?”

Y/n lets out a hum, eyes drifting towards one of the digital clocks that littered the stadium. “Yeah, my train is leaving in an hour,” she said. “I have to go to the station right after this.”

“And you’re going back tomorrow?” asked Shohei, head tilted a bit. It’s a habit that she finds cute.

“I’ll arrive back here tomorrow night,” she shrugged. “I still have a music video audition tomorrow morning.”

Shohei seems to be thinking about something, brows furrowing together. “Do you want me to pick you up?” he asked. “It’s dangerous for a girl to go home alone.”

Laughing a bit, she shook her head. “I’ll have my manager bring me home, don’t worry about my safety. He’s a big guy.”

“But still-“

“You don’t have to worry, you know, you’re in the middle of the tournament, right?” said y/n, reminding the other teen about the looming tournament. She may not follow baseball so intently, but she knows how important the summer tournament is. After all, it’s the key that will bring them to Koshien. The dream stage for the team. “Focus on that, don’t want my best friend to fail in becoming a baseball superstar.”

Letting out a sigh, he seems resigned before letting out a small smile. “And I don’t want my best friend to fail in becoming a star too.”

“A star? Just a star?” she teased.

“Yeah,” he said, smile blinding. “A star.”

A star, she thinks.

Y/n likes the sound of that.

The magazine photoshoot went well.

Her manager told her that the brand and the magazine really liked her and wanted to use her again for their next collection. The photographer and the makeup artist praised her endlessly. Saying that she has the type of face that will catch a lot of attention.

Y/n thinks that it’s their own way, saying that her half-foreign look is distracting.

Stepping out of her dingy agency, she could feel her phone buzzing. Glancing at it, she sees Shohei’s contact appearing on her home screen.

“Boyfriend?” asked her manager, walking next to her.

“No,” she replied, though the girl couldn’t contain the smile that was threatening to break out of her face. “A friend.”

Typing down a response, she glanced back towards her manager, who was staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Doesn’t seem like a friend to me,” replied the man as they climbed into the car together, ready to head out to her music video audition.

“You’re right, it’s not a friend, it’s my best friend,” she huffed out. “Anyway, you said that this was for a music video?”

“It is, for a boyband, you may have heard of them,” answered the man as he gave her the name. She had heard it before, they were pretty famous in her year, after all.

Reading through the script, y/n tried to understand the concept of the music video. It’s a typical boyband music video, a reverse harem trope. The girl will basically be stuck in a love maze between all the members in a high school setting. The members of the boyband will be older than normal high school students, but the fans seem to like them wearing a uniform. That’s why they’re searching for a model that will fit the school setting down to the t.

“I think you will get the role,” said her manager after a moment of silence.

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Why? My idol debut is a flop, you know.”

Sighing, the man continues to drive. “You, for one, in my opinion, are one of the most talented artists that I’ve ever seen in my life,” started the man.

She lets out a laugh at that. “Of course, you’re saying that,” she said, a bit teasing. “You’re my manager. You have to say something like that to encourage me despite everything.”

There was a hesitant silence between the two of them after that. “I think your failure came mostly from our part,” he said after a while. He sounds a bit reluctant. “If you were in any other company – bigger ones or more established ones – I think you would already be thriving.”

“I like our company,” she defends, sinking back in her chair.

Y/n knows that her company is far too small for her to make it big in the industry. She knows that, realistically, she should’ve aimed for bigger names in the industry.

And it’s not like she doesn’t have the chance to do so. She has been offered – many times – to audition or even to join other bigger companies. Scouts had been coming to her to take her back to their own companies multiple times. If she wants to, y/n won’t even glance at her current company, considering all the other offers that she received back then.

But still, she thought, a bit sullen.

Her current company is the only company that doesn’t require her to do gravure shoots.

She knows that it’s a bit ridiculous for her to reject gravure shoots because it’s basically a rite of passage for young girls in the Japanese entertainment company. She knows that so many big celebrities out there have to do gravure shoots during their earlier years to make it in the industry. Countless female celebrities did it to put their name out there.

But y/n can’t do it. She will never do it.

She remembers the text messages or envelopes that her mother received. Countless letters and messages from her father’s lawful wife.

Whore.

Bitch.

Slut.

It’s always those words. Those accusing words that accused her mother of being someone that’s selling her body to everyone.

She’s afraid that the moment she does gravure shoot, it will only prove that the accusation is being directed at her mother. That a whore like her mother will raise a whore of a daughter like her.

That if she does it, that bitch’s word will become the actual truth.

Even in death, y/n will never let that happen. She will never give her mother another thing to grieve upon, and she will never give that woman any kind of satisfaction.

She will thrive in this industry in one way or another. She will survive here.

She will become a star.

“We’re here,” announced her manager.

With that, they arrived at the audition place.

the dojahs won the World Series!

taglist!

@mindless-rock @lovewithmary @seijaelee @kikookii

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seijaelee · 11 months ago

Text

you don’t really like me, you just think you do.

when james’ feelings did a 180, you find it hard to take him seriously.

warnings: no warnings, not proof read (bc lazy)

tags: fluff & angst, 5.9k wc, getting together, jamie being the best suitor, charlie (not weasely) is also here

when people asks you how it changed, you always say it was sudden.

suddenly, james was everywhere you look. suddenly, james was tripping and falling over you. suddenly, james fancied you.

as sudden as it was, it didn’t shock you as one would’ve expected. you always knew him to be as inconsistent in his school work, so you figured he would be inconsistent towards his feelings as well. what shocked you though, was that he liked you of all people.

all interactions with james had strictly consisted of school related-topics. you were in different houses and different social circles. so when he pulls you aside one morning in-between classes. you had expected one of two things; showing him how to do a bandaging charm, again or him asking you for a copy of your essays.

and it was to your absolute horror, that he proved how wrong you are.

“i like you and i hope you like me too.”

when people asks james how it changed, he always says it was gradual.

gradually, you became something he had looked forward seeing every morning. gradually, you had become a pivotal part of his day, every interaction cherished and replayed in his mind late at night. gradually, he had started falling for you.

as gradual as it was, it came as a complete shock for him. he had only viewed you as a friend, and even that was pushing it. you two barely talked to each other and when you did, it was always about school. you two were always paired up for some reason, and in his mind it became akin to fate. you started to occupy the large space that was once occupied by his lilypad and now replaced by you, your soft smile and the contradicting cynic replies.

and with fate working beside him to get you two as close as possible, james thought you figured the same. you were always so patient wth him, always ready to help him out. but your kindness sometimes came with snarky responses that he found oh so charming and witty. so when he excused you to talk, he had expected a successful attempt in snagging a date with you. even going as far as preparing a bouquet for you, he arranged himself.

and it was to his absolute horror, that you proved how wrong he is.

“um, no.”

and so became the norm. james had made it his life’s mission to actively pursue you. you gotta admit though, if he wanted something. he really goes all out.

it started with a daily routine with you every morning. james would wake up early and wait for you by the main floor near the grand staircase. his back against the rough stones, arms and ankles crossed, a boyish smile on his face the moment he would see you. he would beam a smile, cheeks denting, eyes shinning, and walk to you, offering a pleasant greeting of good morning, gorgeous. my, don’t you look ravishing this morning, grabbing your books and tote to carry for you. the first time he attempted this, you fought hard to deny his services. your hands like claws as you hold your things to your person. though he had hardly blinked then, maybe even looked a bit amused, even going as far as looking excited. the weirdo.

but it had been weeks now and frankly, you had grown tired of fighting with him every morning. especially, when he would always win in the end anyway. so now, you just let him do whatever he wanted. not like you have anything to complain about, your bag has always been pretty heavy.

he would flirt with you. constantly. shower you with compliments about things you hardly even think about sometimes. he had sung praises about your eyebrows the other day, and you had no choice but to bluster through it, to mask your flaming cheeks from embarrassment. but he’s not just all talk either, lately he’s worked up the courage to try to hold your hand — or something close to it. he would slowly walk closer to you, his pink lips going on and on asking you and complimenting you, telling jokes, a diversion—you realize. he would blindly extend his fingers, pinkies first, and when you would feel that first touch to your hand, your heart would do an awful jump. your skin would feel a little bit smaller, your brain blaring alarms, his pinky finger touched your hand, repeat it with increasing traitorous glee. this one, you haven’t stopped fighting. as each time you feel his hand touch yours, you would always create some distance between the two of you, no matter how crowded the corridor is, not that it hardly mattered to him, he looked like he’s won something each time he was successful.

today was no different. before the stairwell could even move, you can already see his dark messy hair waiting for you at one of the floors.

“i say, loverboy’s plenty persistent, hm?” charlie hummed, leaning over the railway, his pale eyes clear with amusement.

you scoff, fingers twitchy on the handle as you see him look up and glow into a smile as he locked eyes with you, “like a rash.” tearing your gaze from james potter down below to look ahead, “that would eventually go away.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, lips quirking into a smirk “really now? he’s been waiting for you every morning for the past months, i think this rash is here to stay. ”

you forced a tight lipped smile, “all in due time, i’m sure.”

clenching your hands when the stairs settle in, you walk down, gently meeting his bright honey eyes.

once you were close enough, he grinned, “good morning my sweet,” pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against. like some infuriating roguish model. you like to think he practices ways on how he would look leaning against the stone wall. something he would drag his friends into helping him decide which one looked best, no doubt. you almost smile at the thought but stopped yourself when he says, “don’t you look as beautiful as ever.” he hummed.

his robes in his hands, his tie crisp and perfect, his white button-up wrinkle-free. his hair looking like something he’d desperately describe as artfully tousled but could only be ever perceived as messy. his cool bravado contrasting his rosy cheeks and ears. your heart doing that awful thing again.

“well, that’s my cue. see you both later.” charlie waved and you looked, giving him a nod goodbye.

you sighed through your nose, “potter.”

“try not to sound too happy now.” he teased. he let out his palms for you to place your tote and books, and like yesterday and the day before, you give it to him without complaint. “thanks,” you muttered, keeping in a snort of laughter as you see him wear your pink floral tote on his shoulders unabashedly.

“so, are you ready for your ancient runes test today?” he asks, once you two started walking to the great hall.

“how did you—?”

he shrugged, tousling his hair and looking down on you with a proud smile. “i know everything about you, darling.” (and that he does. albeit he had to beg and bribe his way for your friends to start sharing basic information about you. what your classes are, favourite colours, what you like, dislike —because merlin forbid you actually share things about yourself. all without you knowing of course. wouldn’t want you to think of him as weird.)

you gave the weirdo a suspicious stare before shaking your head, “i think i’m ready. i mean, i studied everything i could. i revised three books for it and even did flashcards.”

“well i bet my hair, you’re gonna do just great.” he grinned, softly nudging your shoulder. “you always have.”

rolling your eyes, “thank you, although i don’t really need you hair.”

“well, just tell me which limb you want and i’ll give it to you.” spreading his arms apart, your bag sliding on his arms with his movement. grinning wide and wiggling his eyebrows. leaning into your face.

your face screwing up into a grimace, and pushing his face away with your knuckles, “the same goes for any anatomy or anything you offer me, i’m afraid.”

the persistent blighter just grinned, looking all too proud of himself for whatever reason.

you were about to turn towards the library, but he grabbed your arm and clicked his tongue, “eat breakfast first,” his fingers firmly wrapped around your inner elbow, denting the soft skin there.

“i have to study,” you say firmly, hoping your voice won’t crack.

“you studied enough, now let’s go.” a little tug from him and you were compliant. something he had looked pleasantly surprised by, if the denting cheeks were any indication.

once he felt you weren’t fighting him from pulling you to the great hall, he let you go. warm big hands leaving your arms.

he started talking about his plans, letting you know when he’s available and when he’s busy. asking about yours in turn — and like always sharing nothing. not that he’s deterred. it’s near the hall’s entrance when you feel his gaze at the side of your face, “—after practice though, i’m going to be fairly free the rest of the night.” that familiar lilt in his voice.

breathing in deep, knowing what’s coming next. “so i was thinking, that maybe we could meet up near the lake - have an afternoon picnic.” you turn to look at him and see him rub the back of his neck. the action causing his biceps to bulge out, pulling the fabric taut against his skin. a treacherous thought passing in your mind.

breathing in slowly, you close your eyes to refocus on his face. warm hazel eyes pleading, hopeful, still just like that first time.

“no thank you,” entering the hall just as james opens the door for you.

he frowns, no, pouts. “why not?”

“i just don’t want to.” you walked to your usual seat in the ravenclaw table and james following behind you closely.

“i guess, that’s fair.”

james still in his head, muttering about cancelling with the elves, as he went to unconsciously grab your hand to guide you into your seat. you flushed at the new action, but nonetheless take a seat anyway. he slowly let your bag slip away from his shoulders place it neatly to your side.

“i’ll walk you to the library after you eat, so wait for me, okay?” he smiled gently down at you like you haven’t just rejected him. giving your friends a few nods of acknowledgments before sitting with his friends already there waiting for him.

you hear a few teasing oohs from your friends causing you to get out of your stupor and shoot glares at them. “don’t even.”

it was no public secret that james had been determined to ask you out on a date for the past months. and each time he did, his plans only becoming more elaborate than the last.

the first time he had asked, it was in the corridor in-between classes. people scattering to get where they needed to be. you were no different until a large bouquet with large and colourful flowers arranged messily in wrinkly cellophane and tight ribbons. you remembered his face then, noting how red and shy he looked. he had been stammering and restarting his spiel to you. you saw your friend gesturing for you to hurry, but oddly enough. you stayed rooted to the spot, curious for what’s to come.

“i like you and i hope you like me too!” he might as well be screaming, as the people around you two stopped and stared. the hall now deathly silent, awaiting your response. you flushed at the attention, and grabbed james by the elbow. walking swiftly to the more secluded area at the end of the hall.

once you two were alone, you see those hopeful eyes of his and his nervous smile. his face was still laughably red and the flowers still upright, tightly clutched in his hands.

“um no,” standing up straighter, “i don’t know what transpired for you to do this but, no.”

you can practically see him deflate then, the flowers lowering from his chest to his side. “no?”

“no.”

“i thought—“ he gulped, stepping towards you. but you raise a hand stopping him. clearing your throat before uttering,

“potter, what about evans?”

he tilted his head, hair flopping in his eyes, and a frown on his pink lips. “what about her?”

you scoff a humourless laugh, hands wildly waving in front you. your bag slipping but continued to say,

“what about her? potter, you’ve liked her since—well since, forever and now you want me to believe you like me now?”

“yes.” he nodded, eyebrows scrunching now. looking frustrated like it was obvious.

you laugh in disbelief, muttering lowly, “how fickle.”

“fickle?”

you freeze, shamed he heard you. waving your hands nonchalantly, an easy smile on your face, “you know frequently changes, inconsistent.”

“i know what fickle means, i’m not an idiot.”

you sputter a short laugh at his indignant tone, “what? are you mad at me now?”

huffing through his nose and pouting, “i’m not mad at you, i’m mad at the situation—“

“fickle! you just confessed looking all shy and now you’re glaring—“

“i am not glaring.”

“fickle!” you laugh, pointing at his scrunched up face. his face now red for a different reason.

“i’m not!” he groans, “i really like you and i want to date you.”

reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way he tensed up and gotten even redder, “no, you don’t. these feelings will eventually pass. trust me.”

james hadn’t replied then, and just as you were about to leave, he thrusted the flowers in your face once again.

“no, potter—“

shaking his head, “no, these are for you. regardless of your answer.” showing you a small dimpled smile, compelling you to take them without anymore argument. the cellophane rustling in your hand. the flowers looking like they’ve been randomly arranged, like someone just chose the biggest and eye catching flowers and bundled it together.

you try not to imagine james picking the flowers himself and getting pink ribbons to tie it all together. tongue poking at his cheek in concentration as he struggles to arrange the flowers like the professionals. it wasn’t an image you saw before, but found yourself easily picturing it nonetheless.

“thank you...”

and you thought that was the end of it. he’ll start to ignore you now because you bruised his pride. maybe even go back to talking to lily evans again.

you try not to think of the swirling disappointment in your stomach, nor the twinge of something else mixed in.

but when you got down from the ravenclaw tower, the next day. off to start your day in the library. there he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

james potter was waiting for you, a radiant smile etching on his face once he saw you.

since then, you had been subjected to various ways james had planned to asked you out. ranging from spelling out your name with an invite in the sky to literally riding a white horse during class and asking if he could whisk you away. all had been met with either an indifferent stares or a horrified wide-eyed gape. after two weeks of feeling complete dread and embarrassment, to the possibilities james potter has in store for you. he suddenly stopped. retiring fireworks and floating parchment of invitations, to normal folded ones inserted in your books. no longer charming his voice so it could be heard all over school to hear him declare his affections, but instead softly asking you in private instead.

it was obvious you had taken a liking to the quieter, more discreet versions rather than the former.

because the first time he did, james had gathered a lock of your hair between his fingers and tucked them behind your ear, whispered low and slow and so close to your ear, as he uttered:

“go on a date with me,”

you were blushing up a storm, then. face warm to the touch and eyes averting frantically to every corner in the library except his eyes. frustratingly aware of his fingers still touching your ear.

he had looked at you then, shock written all over his face before a shy grin took over his face. rubbing his hand over his mouth and tugging the corner of his mouth to stop himself from grinning at your reaction.

he had also been rejected that time but he decided your reaction was reward enough.

you look at your watch and saw you had around an hour left to read up on your other subjects before your first lesson starts.

taking the last few bites of breakfast before james, who had noticed the time as well, had walked over and was already grabbing the things you pulled out of your tote, placing it neatly inside. plopping to the seat beside you.

“you ready to go, pretty?” he quipped.

quickly nodding as you hastily clean your section of the table and said your goodbyes to your friends. pointedly ignoring the wiggling eyebrows and teasing hoots of pretty.

james had offered a hand to help you stand up but you ignored it and stood on your own.

“did you eat a lot?” leaning to have a good look at your face.

you nodded, “a bit. they had scrambled eggs, so i had a full plate.”

james nodding, a happy smile on his face. “good, good.” turning to look in front of him and opening the heavy doors for you all the while adjusting your tote on his shoulders. “listen, there was a schedule change for pitch practice so i’ll be a bit busy starting tomorrow. i’m sorry, sweets.”

“okay.”

he hummed, thoughtful. “i’ll try to still be around and walk you to your classes in between breaks—we’ll see how that goes. try not to miss me too much, yeah?” a teasing smile on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, oblivious to the days ahead.

“oh,” charlie said, leaning over to the railing.

“what?” following his gaze and looking over to the glaringly, strangely vacant spot. “oh,”

now staring at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “i see mr. loverboy’s not in today.” the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes.

“managed to finally scare him off, did ‘ya?” he supplies.

“if only,” crossing your arms, “he said he’ll be busy with quidditch practice.”

when the stairs settled in, charlie turned to you. “it’s certainly nice to know he has other hobbies other than bothering you.”

“bothering me?” adjusting the strap of your tote on your shoulder.

he quirked an eyebrow, an inquisitive look on his face “he doesn’t bother you anymore?”

“nonsense, you know he does.”

“interesting,”

you look at him with a frown, hating the teasing, the all knowing tone he always uses when you missed something. “what?”

“nothing!” you gave him an exasperated stare and raised your eyebrow, raising his hand in the air and chuckled, “i just noticed you getting a bit soft on ‘im, that’s all.” tapping his chin, “you don’t look that bothered to me, is what i’m saying. and you never say so anymore.”

your face warmed. is that what it looked like to others? is that potter thinks? that you’re going soft on him now? you scoff, tightening your hold on your bag and adjusting the sliding strap. “do i really have to announce it every time i’m pissy with him?”

he’s humming, a certain skip in his step that makes you want to trip him, “no, but i can tell you’re at least tolerating him now. friends, maybe?”

“tolerating does not equate friendship, sorry to say.” you know, it isn’t. being with james doesn’t feel at all like how it is with charlie.

“an assistant then?” mirth clear in his eyes as he said that. charlie the pale mutt having way too much fun with this.

pursing your lips in an annoyed frown, “i’d like to think he doesn’t qualify enough to be my assistant.” adjusting the slipping strap of your bag.

he laughs, grabbing your tote off your shoulder, and sliding it to his. “you’re not even used to holding your bag anymore, since he always carry it for you.”

“so?”

“so,” looking pointedly at you, as he counts on his fingers, “he’s not a friend, he doesn’t qualify to be your assistant… what is he then?”

you blinked, the question wasn’t anything new. if anything it was a question you started hearing quite frequently, after james potter’s many attempts to woo you. the questions before, however, carried a chaffing tone meant to tease or pull a reaction. but now, with charlie peering curiously at you, and the many weeks you’ve talked with james. the question now carry a different tone.

but still you remain nonchalant, regardless of the warming cheeks and ears. you huffed,

“a pet.”

it was on the same day after one of your classes when you saw him waiting for you. he was still wearing his practice kit and gloves. it looked as if he had rushed over here, with his hair windswept all the more messier than usual. his hazel eyes more alert, brighter—something you find always happens after he plays.

he looked up when he saw the swarm of students leaving the room, eyes immediately meeting yours and the familiar smile that goes with it. his cheeks tinted pink, maybe from the cold wind gushing outside or, dare i say it, seeing you. you ignore the spreading warmth in your stomach, your skin shrinking and your judas heart thudding like a fluttering hummingbird.

the smile he shot your way, was a soft little smile. something you learned he did if he was sorry about something.

“hello, sweets.” he said once close enough. he had reached out then, grabbing your things out of your arms and you giving it to him out of habit. “did you have a good morning?”

your voice seemed to be unresponsive as you just nodded. still raking over his face and figure. like it was your first time seeing him, an urge to reach out. as if you didn’t see him yesterday.

“sorry, i wasn’t there to greet you in the morning.” rubbing the back of his neck. “the team wanted an early practice.”

“oh, i barely noticed.” you lied.

a lie he seems to have caught on himself, if the bashful smile on his face is anything to go by. his cheeks with pretty divots— an urge to dig your thumbs in there greater than ever. no, you think. clenching your hands tight to your sides. fucking charlie with his absurd ideas.

when the last student left the hall, the two of you were left in silence. him staring sparkles at you and you desperately avoiding it.

clearing your throat, you started to walk in the direction of your next class.

“anyway it’s fine, you’re captain now. so more responsibilities is inevitable, i say.”

he slipped your bag into his shoulders and started rearranging your books in his arms. “you know i made captain?”

“you told me, didn’t you?” you frown. you could have sworn he did. it was the day he had drawn hearts all over the margin of your notes, writing both yours and his initials in a heart. the sopping sap.

he stood up straighter, eyes widening in wonder. “you remembered,”

“is that so surprising?” clicking your tongue, slightly offended he thinks you would disregard the things he says. you had manners.

he immediately shook his head, a bright smile took over his face that you had no choice but to look away.

“i’m more surprised you actually have the time to even walk me to class.”

he shakes his head, “i’ll always make time for you!” he exclaimed, slightly bumping your shoulder. “did you think i’d let you go on a day without seeing my face at least once?”

“ah yes, because seeing you is such a gift, no?” you said, you’re voice void of emotions. but he continues undeterred.

“and because i’m so generous, i’ll try to meet you like this tomorrow too.” he beamed, puffing his chest.

a clear image enters your brain. you think of james rushing from the practice grounds to the classrooms in the higher floors. imagine him barely having anytime to rest or even drink water if he were to walk you to your classes and go back to the pitch in time. imagine himself slump against the stone wall in front of the door, steadying his breathing so he wouldn’t look tired or worn, putting on his usual, irritably handsome smile. you imagine him having to rush back, making him even more tired than he has to be. imagine him not performing his best.

the image vivid in your head because he would most likely do just that. and that fact didn’t sit well with you for some reason, “what for? won’t that be an inconvenience to you?”

“it’s not an inconvenience.” he says lightly.

“but isn’t the practice field far from here?” you frowned. it was at two flights of stairs, and a long walk to the covered bridge to the school grounds to the quidditch pitch. it had to be at least a 15 minute walk

his smile slowly started to leave his face as if sensing something wrong. “not that far—” turning to look at you.

you raise an eyebrow, as if scolding, “didn’t you rush over here?”

he shook his head, curls strands flopping over his eyes, “only a little bit—“

“potter, you don’t have rush over here for that.”

“but how can i walk you to your next class if i don’t hurry?”

“that’s what i’m saying,” rolling your eyes, “you don’t have to walk me to class, we can just focus on our own thing for a while—“

now a small frown on his face, “but i want to.”

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need you to. you can focus on your training more rather than rush to walk me in-between classes.” waving off as if it was nothing. you didn’t want him giving up precious break time for something menial like walking you to class.

he stops walking, eyes now filled with frustration. you groan inwardly, plenty sure you won’t be able to reach your class in time. “i just want to spend a little bit of time with you, is that so bad?”

you laugh awkwardly, “this is barely spending time with each other. it’s just a walk to class—”

“so what? you’re saying no to walking with me now?”

you groan out a laugh, pushing your hair out of your face. the idea of it creating an unpleasant twist in your stomach. “that’s not what i’m saying,” softly rubbing your temples, already feeling the migraine forming over the escalating topic.

“then what?”

“spending a little time apart is better, i don’t need you doing all of this for me. carrying my stuff and walking me to class, or waiting for me in the morning. i don’t need any of it. so apologizing or trying to make up for it is unnecessary.”

he laughs in disbelief, “unnecessary?” he parrots, “why can’t you just let me do things for you? why do you always have to fight with me about everything?”

“i don’t want you to!” you exclaimed.

he is being difficult. you were just saying this for his sake. he was the one who said he needed to practice more and now that you tell him to focus on that, he goes off on you.

“i know, but i want to do these things for you because i like you! this is what people do when they like somebody, y/n. they do stuff for them without being asked to.”

rolling your eyes, just ready to end the conversation as you spew the things in your brain mindlessly. “oh seven hells! you don’t like me! you just think you do!”

he took a step forward eyes blazing in irritation, “and you just know that for sure, yeah?”

“yes, potter. i know this for sure.”

he scoffs out a disbelieving laugh, “why is it so hard for you to take my feelings seriously?”

you took a step back, not expecting his question. “what?”

“did someone hurt you before?”

“no-“

“lie to you? trick you?”

”no, what—?”

“then i don’t understand,” staring at you, eyebrows scrunched and hazel eyes blazed with sadness. “is there something wrong with me—?”

you were about to reach out to him, apologize. or clarify. or anything just to make him stop looking like that.

“why can’t the person i’m interested in, like me back?”

you stop, an ugly green emotion engulfing your chest. of course, you thought. your next class be damned. as you face contorts into a sneer as you spat out the words,

“so that’s what this is about?” you scoff, “years of rejection from evans, you turn to the easiest target you can get, so you can feel good about yourself?”

anger taking over his face, “what—?”

“just admit it, you’re pursuing me because you’re frustrated she didn’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“—you think i see you as someone easy? you think i would actually do that to you?”

you straightened your posture, “you can’t be mad at me for simply laying down the facts.” completely disregarding the fact you’ve implied you’d be a willing participant to his wooing if he weren’t so fickle.

adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder, mumbling, “i can’t believe this.” and now in a louder voice. “and what are your facts, then?”

“you claimed to love evans, fact.” he scoffs, but you continue. “she rejects you, fact. you start to realize there are other girls in our year and then you see little ole me, fact. you start to build unto this idea of starting something with me because for whatever reason your brain seems to think it’s a good idea, fact.”

shaking his head, “even if that were all true, i like you now.”

“and how long until that changes too?” you counter, looking straight at him. angry tears building in your eyes.

“what? it’s not going to change. ” he stepped forward, and you step back.

“you have been nothing in life but be inconsistent.”

his face twists into a frown. “that’s not true,”

“oh really?” you nodded, your voice getting louder in the quiet halls, “you were the best student during our first year but then you stopped trying. you were on your way to becoming a prefect until you decided you didn’t want to anymore. you were going to turn down becoming captain if it weren’t for black threatening to quit unless you accepted. i mean, really james potter,”

a bitter laugh came tumbling out of your mouth, “you’ve been in love with this girl ever since you were eleven, and now you aren’t.” you breathed, “how will i know you won’t stop liking me too?”

looking into his eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, you grabbed your bag and books from him and walked away.

“that’s what i thought.”

you didn’t see james after that. not in the morning after and not in-between classes. you thought it was because of quidditch practice again. but when the week ended and still no sign of him, you felt something heavy drop in your chest.

you labelled it as guilt (though charlie have insisted it to be something else—something else he refuses to tell).

guilty you raised your voice and basically criticized him for doing something nice for you. started overthinking you might’ve struck a nerve you shouldn’t’ve, considering you weren’t really friends to begin with. charlie did always say you were a bit loose with your choice of your words. you were the type to offend somebody even without meaning to, he says.

now, it has been days since you last spoke to james and things hasn’t felt right since.

your tote bag keeps slipping off of your shoulder. your books seems heavier now and harder to hold. now, the eggs served at breakfast were never scrambled— always a shitty sunny side up. you can’t concentrate in class. you keep looking for a tall head of curly hair, everywhere you go and you keep feeling the inevitable disappointment when it isn’t the person you were looking for.

it was getting harder and harder keeping your usual composed demeanor. and if charlie noticed anything different with you, he didn’t say anything. until now that is,

“okay this whole thing is getting pathetic.” he sighed. plopping down next to you in the ravenclaw common room.

you look at him, frown seemingly placed permanently on your face nowadays. “i’m sorry?”

he nodded, “yeah, you should be sorry. because you let a good bloke like potter go.” you sat up, “and all because of your refusal to accept that he might actually like you.”

you roll your eyes grumbling, “you don’t know anything,”

“i know you like him,” he huffs, “and for some reason you refuse to admit it.”

you took a deep breath, the glare you had on, softening as you look away.

you didn’t bother correcting him because, well, he was right. you had been dancing around your feelings for so long, you were sure the mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped, a whispered sigh as you muttered, “why would i even bother? i know he’ll change his mind.”

charlie had looked taken aback, clearly he expected more fight from you. you huff, you weren’t so emotionally inept that you would continue to deny it any longer. considering how long you’ve been denying yourself of the truth. maybe just a smidge of denial still, but seeing how that rather blown up in your face, it was time to face the music.

and after a while he said, “did he tell you that?”

fiddling with your hands, you say scoffing, “did he tell me he’ll eventually leave me? no,”

“are you clairvoyant then?”

you huff a short laugh, “you know, i think that’s rubbish.”

he offered a smile, “then how do you know he’ll change his mind?”

you sigh, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know,”

“and you’ll never know unless you get up and tell him you like him.”

“but what if he changes his mind?” looking at your friend properly now, “what if he suddenly decides he doesn’t like me anymore. hell, he probably doesn’t anymore.”

he shook his head, “he hasn’t. he won’t.”

“but what if?” you whine.

rolling his eyes, “on the off chance that he does, then at least you can say you tried. that for a short while you were happy.“ patting your back, “and isn’t that better?”

you scoff, looking away. “no, that’s definitely worse.”

it was a two days after you and charlie had a talk. and it was during these two days that you and your friends discussed ways on how to make up with james.

you’d think a group of ravenclaws could come up with clever ways to solve your problems. but when one of your friends suggested painting a mural for their honour, and another telling you to pretend like you passed out in front of him—made you realize your friends were as hopeless as you are.

but it turns out, you didn’t really have to.

you were on your way to the ravenclaw tower, when it happened.

you saw james walking towards you. strides large and with purpose. you can practically see his eyes blaze with determination.

you were never big on confrontation, especially when you’re the one being confronted. so you did what anyone would have done, turn and speed walk the other way.

you were about to turn the corner of the hall, out of his sight when you hear him call out to you.

“y/n please,”

you stop, the desperation in his voice echoing in the halls. you hear his footsteps behind, speeding its pace. before slowly turning around to face him.

“james i-“

he shook his head, breathless as he says, “you know i’m a bit cross with you.”

you nod, “yes. you should be, i-“

“you didn’t let me respond to you that day.”

“what?”

his lips pursed, “when you asked me, if i’ll stop liking you.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “no, you don’t have to-“

“i don’t know if i’ll stop. all i know is, i like you y/n. and i’m not going to say it’s always been you because i did like her.” he looked at you, eyes clear and sure as ever,

“i liked her when i didn’t even know what liking someone meant. and when i did, i realized it wasn’t the like i thought i had for her. i admired her, sure, but what i felt for her is not even comparable to what i feel for you now. you make me want to become a better man. you make me want to make something of myself. you keep me grounded but you also make me feel like i could fly. you’re the most amazing person, i know and it’s frustrating to think you don’t see yourself the same way i see you.

“and i know you like me too, you can try and pretend all you want but i can tell. because you always listen to me even when you pretend not to. you always have a small smile on your face whenever i come see you in the morning. and then you act as if you don’t care. you always refuse my gifts at first but i know all the things i’ve given you is still in your room. i know you turned the first bouquet into bookmarks. you like me as much as i like you and i know part of the reason why you won’t acknowledge it is because you’re scared. and i can’t exactly blame you because of that. but i’m willing to prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of. i’ll study harder in school, i’ll take up more responsibility, i’ll prove to you, i can see things through. if you could just give me a chance because you make me want to try, dammit.”

he took a couple of steps forward until he was right in front of you. reaching for your hand and softly engulfing yours with his. never realizing how big it is compared to yours. when you didn’t pull away, he looked at you in the eyes, adjusting his grip so it was intertwined and softly breathing out the words,

“every time i look at you, i feel like my heart is about to jump out of my damned chest. i like you, y/n. i like so much i already wrote to my parents about you.“

he looked at you so softly then, eyes wide in hope.

what do you say to that? james potter the most charming boy in school, your crush ever since you were a first year, likes you. you bit your lip, fighting the growing smile on your face and failing as you utter back,

“all good things i hope.”

he gives a dimpled grin back, “the best, truthful things.”

you cleared your throat, “well, james potter,” tightening your grip on his hand, your meeting that meeting hazel.

“i like you, and i hope you like me back.” you whisper, ignoring the hummingbird in your chest, the alarms in your heads and the tightening skin.

he bit his lip and pulled you flush against him. arms now wrapped around your waist. “no,” he breathed out a laugh, grabbing your cheek before leaning in and slotting his lips with yours into a giddy kiss.

your thumbs slipping into the pretty divots in his cheeks, as soft and smooth as you’ve always imagined them to be.

5K notes · View notes

seijaelee · 1 year ago

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only 2 yuki fics?? mf deserves 728982543 at least😩

like, c'mon, he's SO fine, how come this app isn't full of stories to feed my delusion. it's UNFAIR

150 notes · View notes

seijaelee · 1 year ago

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make you feel my love

Losing means nothing to Ishikawa when he has you.

pairing: ishikawa yuki x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: i don’t think there’s any!

word count: 2074 words

A/N: i honestly dont know who wants to read this but im just gonna post it anyways HAHA so here all you ishikawa simps pls enjoy<3

--------

It all happens at once.

The noise— screams of all pitches and encouragements of all sorts, forming a raucous cacophony in the large gymnasium— halts almost immediately; like a vacuum has sucked it all up and the only thing that is left is an eerie stillness as everyone waits in antsy anticipation for the player to serve.

And then he is running up, throwing the ball great lengths into the air and jumping to meet it halfway, hitting the ball with such force and determination you can almost feel the impact yourself. The ball hurtles through the air and crosses the net with such speed you almost don't see it.

But the Japanese team does. Their libero, Yamamoto, crosses the court in a flash and bumps the ball up so high up it gives his teammates half a second to breathe before they are rushing to connect it, the setter, Sekita, tossing the ball higher in the air for Ishikawa to hit it.

The tall Brazilians loom over him like a curse, like bad karma, as determined as the Japanese are, but not nearly as desperate. Ishikawa does not mind them and he bravely hits the ball with as much strength as his worn out body allows him, sending every last bit of energy into this spike, hoping, praying, practically begging for it to work, for the ball to hit the other side of the court with such violence that the Brazilians would not be able to even react before it hits the floor.

The next thing you know, the ball hits the hands of the Brazilians and is spindling down towards the floor at breakneck speed. Yamamoto, Sekita and Ishikawa (when he lands), all throw themselves to the floor in a desperate bid to save it, to not let it touch the floor, to not let all their hard work be washed down into a drain. But to no avail.

The ball hits the floor with a resounding thud. The whistle blows and all at once, the Brazilian supporters leap from their seats and yell and scream and shout with unadulterated joy. Because they have won! They have won the game! And the Japanese have lost. The Japanese team and their supporters are quiet in the wake of their loss. You do not move, almost as if if you did, the bleachers would crack open, the earth beneath the gymnasium would cave in and you would be falling to the floor, through the soil and to the core of the earth.

The three men lift themselves up from the floor with the weight of defeat on their shoulders and their teammates pat their backs silently, looking solemn but trying to be as encouraging as possible. The team gathers at the end line of the court and another whistle blows, signalling both teams to bow. When Ishikawa's eyes hit the floor, so do the tears.

He cries in silent agony, somehow feeling like it is all his fault. He is the captain, he should have led them better than this. He is the ace, he should have been able to hit pass those blocks. He knew hitting hard was risky, he should have been more careful. He should have moved faster, reacted faster, gotten to the ball faster. He should have been sharper, more alert, better. He should have been better.

His teammates shed a few tears too, but not quite nearly as much as Ishikawa. It's unrelenting— his tears. It doesn't want to stop, even when Ishikawa roughly wipes at his eyes in frustration, desperately wanting the raw showing of emotion to stop. Everyone can see him cry in this moment and he hates it.

When Ishikawa and his team begin to move off the court, is when you break from your stunned daze. Quite frankly, you were shocked speechless. You knew Brazil was a tough opponent but your faith in your boys would always trump any form of doubt. You knew they could do it. You knew they would be able to do it. Until they didn't.

You do not see the tears from quite so far away, but when you do, you are ripping yourself from your seat with such great speed, the people around you jump in surprise. You do not care, you do not even really notice before you are sprinting down the stairs, leaping from each flight, ignoring the desperate calls of your best friend and the shocked expressions directed at you as you race to the exit of the court.

"Ishikawa Yuki!" you yell just in case you don't catch them in time. You know you could just call him or meet him at his house but you came as a surprise, and though you'd wish you could surprise him after his victory, you think that surprising him and being able to comfort him in his loss will mean just as much.

At the sound of your voice, his head whips around, eyes wide in shock as he desperately searches the people for your face, eyes glassy with unshed tears and vision slightly blurry. You jump off the rest of the stairs, running to him with flailing arms. And when Ishikawa sees you, you swear you see his lips pout, eyes glossing over as tears run down his face.

You grin and run to him and he drops everything, his water bottle, his towel, his jacket, everything, so that he can hold his arms open for you to run into and give him a big hug. And you do exactly that. You run straight into his arms, wrapping your arms around his torso and shoving your face into his chest, not caring at all that he is drenched in sweat (and possibly tears), not caring at all that almost the whole gymnasium full of people can see the two of you have such an intimate moment, not caring at all because Ishikawa Yuki, the love of your life, is in tears and you have to do everything in your power to stop that.

Ishikawa's arms wrap around you too, holding you so tight and dear to him, you swear the both of you stop breathing. And with you in his arms, he finally crumbles to the floor, tears spilling from his eyes and sobs escaping his throat in ugly, high-pitched hiccups. But he doesn't care, you don't care, he's safe as long as you're here.

"When did you get here? I thought you were only going to touchdown tomorrow," he whispers in between sobs, his shaking, swollen hand coming up to your hair and entangling his fingers with the strands messily. You pull away slightly and pull Ishikawa down so that your chin rests on his shoulder and he can bury his face into your neck, your hand coming up to his sweaty hair to run your fingers through the corse, tangled strands as Ishikawa continues to cry in your arms. This position is so incredibly uncomfortable. After all, Ishikawa is insanely tall and the top of your head doesn't even really reach his neck, and you're sure Ishikawa's back is going to hurt a little later but he doesn't seem to mind at all at the position change, indulging in you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hot breaths that tickle your skin, coming out in pants as he struggles to control his sobs.

"I wanted to surprise you," you say with a fond smile, the hand that was idle on his back coming up to send a wave to his teammates when your eyes meet, even sending one to his coach, who just smiles bitterly at you. His teammates send you rueful smiles and thumbs-ups of approval before they make their way back to the locker rooms, leaving you and Ishikawa to continue embracing at the exit of the court.

Ishikawa lets out a tearful laugh, saying, "Well, I'm surprised alright. I was just thinking about you when you called my name. I almost thought I was seeing things.".

You laugh but do not reply, allowing a comfortable silence to take over as Ishikawa lets all his emotions out in the form of hot, regretful tears. Your hand continues to soothe him with pats and strokes to his back and your hand remains in his hair. Ishikawa's large hands fist your shirt at your waist as his tears and sweat seep into your shirt. You don't mind. Of course, if this were anyone else you would. But this is Ishikawa Yuki, and you love him more than anything else in this world.

"You played so well," you whisper after a while of silence. You can feel Ishikawa wanting to pull away from you but you do not allow him, knowing full well that he wants to pull away to argue with you, to debunk your words with his incessant humility, so you do not allow him. You do not allow him to deny himself the praise he very much deserves because he's worked hard for this, no matter the outcome, he and his teammates have worked his ass off for this, and the least you can do is praise him.

"Yuki, you played very well. Don't try and deny it," you say with a firm voice, hand on his head keeping his chin to your shoulder. At this, he finally laughs and you loosen your grip, allowing him to pull out of your embrace just enough for him to see your face.

His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are beginning to puff up with all his crying, red beginning to bloom at the corner of his eyes, slowly taking over the white. His smile is nothing short of breathtaking, swollen eyes and red lips curled up brilliantly, smile lines and the corners of his eyes creasing sweetly. You can't help but grin back when you see his smile, nose souring with endearment.

"You know me so well," he comments, fingers coming up to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw to your chin, tilting your face up just a little bit more. His fingers guide your head just slightly forward before he is meeting you halfway in a sweet kiss, grinning immediately after your lips meet his.

Ishikawa's eyes trace over your every feature, observing, remembering, ingraining; tracing over the curve of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the perk of your lips, the peak of your eyebrows, and the line of your jaw, fingers ghosting over each feature along with his eyes, all the while maintaining the smile on his lips.

Then, he is giving your forehead a sweet kiss before pulling out of your embrace fully, turning around to pick up the things he had dropped when you came running into his arms. He brushes off his jacket and drapes it across your shoulders, holding open the jacket for you to slip your arms into the sleeves, to which you do, before he is hooking the zip and zipping it all the way up to your chin.

In his mind, he laughs at the way you are dwarfed by his jacket. Your hands can barely be seen, only the tips of your fingers peeking out from the sleeves, and the jacket, where it usually ends at his hip, ends almost at your knees. Unconsciously, he smiles and has to physically restrain himself from pinching your cheeks.

After he zips up his jacket, he bends down to pick up his towel, draping it over his shoulder before he is bending down once again to pick up his water bottle, having set them down to help you put on his jacket. Then, without a word but with the largest, goofiest grin, he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the court and to the locker rooms in a comfortable silence, fingers intertwined with yours.

For a second there, he almost forgets that they lost the game and are not able to proceed to the quarter-finals. For a second there, he almost completely forgets about his regrets and anger and frustration. And it's all because of you. And of course, he is eternally grateful to you. After all, what on earth would he do without you? He would still be crying his ass off, that's what, though he would never admit it out loud. And it is because of this reason— though he would do it without a reason at all— that he kisses you a little longer, hugs you a little tighter, loves you a little more.

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seijaelee · 1 year ago

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I love this 😭😭🫶

title: holy ground

summary: in which miya atsumu is completely in love with you and you find that very hard to believe.

word count: 3.2k+

warnings/contents: angst, fluff, humour

masterlist

Miya Atsumu has always been a stubborn man. He was stubborn in his opinions, and feelings, and contrary to the popular belief that he flies through people romantically -that was not the case.

He’s only ever had two major loves in his life, the first being the girl in the cereal commercial when he was a kid. Atsumu was dead set on marrying her and living on a dairy farm, and plus free cereal for life. It wasn’t until he found out that she wasn’t real -courtesy of Osamu- that he refused to believe in love.

He’s had crushes and flings, sure, especially in high school, the majority of people do. However, he was too busy trying to win Nationals and be the best setter in Japan that romantic relationships often took the third or fourth spot in his priority list.

Then he met you. It was raining, Atsumu remembers meeting you. You coming in, rushing into the training centre, while you handed off a bento box to his personal trainer. Watching from the ground he was sitting on, watching as you turned, almost slipping on the floor because of your wet shoes, and Atsumu rushing over to help you before anyone could.

Looking down at your wide eyes, your mouth parted in shock and the sheepish smile that soon took over, until he said, “Oi, watch where yer goin’, could have damaged the floor wit’ that face.”

At the scowl on your face, and a clever comeback on your lips, he decided right then and there that you were the only person that was going to be in his heart. You were the only person that he wanted to love, and he wanted to prove it to you.

Keep reading

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seijaelee · 1 year ago

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the sequel // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending

wc ⇢ 5k

a/n: i never cried so much while writing something

Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.

Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.

If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.

Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.

Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.

For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.

But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.

No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.

And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?

No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.

But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.

Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.

"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."

But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.

So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.

It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.

He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"

But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.

Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.

He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.

So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.

Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.

And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.

As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.

But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.

Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.

Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.

And you would finally, finally be his.

As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.

He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.

When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.

When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.

Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.

Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.

The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.

All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.

Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.

But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.

Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.

God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.

Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.

In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.

That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.

That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.

Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.

In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.

But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.

Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.

He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.

The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.

Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.

It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.

And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.

Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.

Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.

He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.

Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.

Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.

Always.

As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.

Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.

He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.

But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.

A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.

It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.

He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.

But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.

And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.

He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.

But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.

So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.

Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.

It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.

But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.

So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:

Someday. Someday. Someday.

Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.

Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.

He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.

"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."

And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.

Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.

"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."

"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."

And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.

His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.

The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.

The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.

But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.

God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.

You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"

Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."

Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.

"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."

A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."

He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."

Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."

He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."

Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.

But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.

"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"

He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."

You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."

A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.

When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.

"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."

You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."

And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.

From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.

But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.

No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.

This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.

#i love this #dear God when?#hopeless romantic #i love suna

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