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joshujin · 14 hours ago

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dude, nice try!

◀ part one • series masterlist • part two

joshua hong has had the immense privilege of living 30 whole years without ever feeling so much as an ounce of jealousy. that is, until you come prancing into his picture-perfect life on your dumb burner account with evidence that his long-time girlfriend is cheating on him… with your boyfriend.

as he gets tangled up in your chaotic plan to get back at your adulterous partners, he begins to wonder if this growing discomfort in his chest was ever even heartbreak to begin with, or if it’s something entirely new to him—something that has the ability to eat him alive from the inside out.

♫ get him back! olivia rodrigo ⟡ my kink is karma chappell roan ⟡ see u never niki ⟡ good to me seventeen

pairing: joshua x fem!reader part two: 14.6k words cw: strong language, mentions of/implied sexual activity, kms joke, reader is highly emotional and tbh kind of crazy maybe even toxic but idc bc i support women’s rights and wrongs <3 tags: cheating (not between main ship), strangers to partners-in-crime to partners PERIOD, joshua pov, pining, he fell first AND harder oops, he’s also so incredibly whipped from the jump, a few smau bits but mostly writing, no smut, inspired by get him back! by miss rodrigo a/n: oh nothing, just me getting carried away with the dialogue and my word count like usual :) to the anon that requested this: pls feel free to pop back into my ask and tell me how you think this is going LOL. i'm having fun writing it but i know the jealousy isn't fully fleshed out yet. to everyone else: ENJOY!

dividers by @cafekitsune cover by yours truly!

joshua was being sincere with you when he told you he wasn’t a good bar to set yourself against when it came to breakups.

there was stephanie from when he was still in college in the U.S.; they broke up because he decided to move back to korea. it was amicable for the most part, but he probably could’ve given her a more generous heads up than the two weeks he did give her. it wasn’t until a year or so later that she realized how unfair that had been and made sure joshua knew—with a series of voice memo texts that were nearly 15 minutes each.

then, he dated miyoung. she was nice but she also decided she wanted to get married within the next year only three months in, and as a 23-year-old, joshua was freaked out enough to run almost immediately. his relationship with miyoung ended on a phone call that lasted three hours because she was sobbing so hard, he didn’t have the heart to hang up even though he had no idea how to comfort her. he saw her consistently for weeks after out of pure guilt until jeonghan pointed out that this was just a disguised way of stringing her along.

after that, there was bada, nari, bora, aram, and hana, all girls he casually dated for no longer than a handful of weeks before one of them decided it actually wasn’t a fit for various, mostly dumb reasons. nari told him she didn’t like that he collected cologne and had three times as much perfume as she did. he left aram because she ate so messily, it gave him the ick. though apparently, that might be something he doesn’t mind anymore.

he dated yumi for six months, and to this day, she’s still the only serious girlfriend of his that broke up with him. she told him that she felt like after six months, she still barely knew him, and that he was “too concerned” with upholding an image of himself that “didn’t feel real.” he went straight to therapy for that one.

and when he felt a little better in his own skin and ready to put a “realer” version of himself out there, he met mina. mina, his longest relationship, and up until now, someone he was convinced was his first love. he said as much anyway. he was the first to tell her he loved her, he reminded her he did every day, and he thought they had a nice, long future ahead of them. what he pictured in that future exactly, he had no clue. but after an odd and somewhat unlucky streak in dating, he finally felt like mina was a nice and comfy place to land.

he’s never been more wrong about something in his entire life.

and after the laughable amount of breakups he’s experienced, he’s also never been angrier after the end of a relationship in his entire life.

mina was proving to be a lot of firsts for him—first cheater, first master manipulator and liar, first person who’s ever made him wonder if he could possibly switch over to dating men instead… or simply stop dating at all! sure, he would die alone but he would die in peace.

whatever the case, he's quickly approaching the conclusion that “first love” is not among those firsts, and it probably never was. no amount of teasing from you or jeonghan did it, but in less than a handful of minutes spent breaking up with mina, he is a million percent sure this was not someone he could have loved. or else what did that say about him and his taste?

sixteen minutes earlier

joshua arrives at mina’s apartment exactly two hours after work ends for her—5 p.m. every day because she always scheduled a pilates class at 5:30 p.m. thirty minutes for her to get to her class, one hour for her to finish it, 30 minutes for her to get home, zero minutes for her to get clean because he doesn’t care how presentable she is when he dumps her.

plus, however long it takes joshua to end this—hopefully a lot shorter than his experience with miyoung.

he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was coming over; he didn’t think she really deserved that courtesy. he may be intent on a clean break, but he also wanted this to be as annoying for her as it has been for him.

so at a prompt 7 p.m., joshua finds himself casually leaning against the elevator’s railing, ascending the floors of mina’s apartment and feeling almost excited to be free of this experience.

after he got off the phone with you, he decided he would bite the bullet when work was over. he spent the rest of his day absentmindedly finishing his reports, periodically stopping to scribble an idea for what he would say to his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

he takes the folded piece of paper out of his pocket now and runs over his options again.

his levels of shame and self-pity were sky high when he first pulled out his notepad at the office to write his thoughts out, but after texting you and letting you know what he planned to do, you insisted on meeting at a cafe beforehand to brainstorm together while he waited for mina’s pilates class to end. and once you both workshopped the entire list, his embarrassment diminished almost completely.

it was clear you took this a lot more seriously than he did. he doesn't know what he expected; you probably have a manila folder stuffed full of notes for what you plan to do to siwoo.

as such, you were very helpful. sure, you were also really distracting, with your subtle, spiced perfume he recognized as lola james harper, and your daunting and unrelenting eye contact, and the way your eyes smiled all on their own when they weren’t busy crying over siwoo, and the fact that you graced him with your laugh in person for the first time (every bit as fun as he thought it would be), and everything else that came with just existing in your presence.

all of it was really distracting—almost to the point of it being entirely counterproductive for him. almost, if it weren’t for the fact that you were so determined on his behalf to make this the most unpleasant experience for mina. he was mostly pleased with where you two landed, and if anything, he at least had a better idea of what he wanted to say.

he reads the completely ruined paper, a mess of his black ink and wrinkles where you kept trying to grab it out of his hands. it was already a vulnerable enough occasion talking about this with you; he did not need you seeing his notes on top of it.

TALKING POINTS FOR BREAKING UP WITH EVIL GF i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because someone sent me proof! — cannot say this without exposing that y/n knows about siwoo!!! i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because i went through your phone and saw your text messages! — better, but am i willing to look crazy just to cover for y/n? yes what am i saying NO this will do ✓ how could you do this to us? i loved you! — seems disingenuous? note: yell at jeonghan and y/n for putting ideas in my head later! i literally gave you everything you could’ve wanted, and that still wasn’t enough? what does any other man have that i don’t? — ok met with y/n for feedback. says this sounds pathetic and that i can't let her think this affected me. but she cheated on me? this LITERALLY affects me. i will come back to this one ok y/n made a different, better point: i am perfect •ᴗ• and i shouldn’t present myself as lacking. so true. she's very good at this! •ᴗ• do you really think anyone with half a fucking brain cell who's willing to homewreck a relationship is really going to give enough of a fuck about you to be capable of putting up with your insufferable ass and treating you as well as i did? — y/n suggested. had to workshop bc she's alarmingly vulgar. plus, maybe toxic to say i "put up" with mina ?? not sure do you even regret hurting me? — y/n says this is silly bc siwoo and mina obviously do not regret anything, but i want mina to feel guilty. y/n now agrees and says i should add: "or are you just so heartless you don't care?" she said this more colorfully, but i will remain respectful why should i remain respectful? mina is literally the most disrespectful person i’ve ever met. i’ll say what y/n suggested ⤵ your commitment to being a heartless asshole has you by your ugly ass neck and i hope it starts squeezing with both hands GET SOME HELP! — more for catharsis. won’t be yelling this at her you're going to regret this and if you think there's a world where i take you back when you do, you're mistaken — wow, no notes from y/n! must be very good •ᴗ• definitely say this one!! please never contact me again — note from y/n: "why are you being so goddamn polite? tell her to fuck off and if you ever see her number on your phone screen, you'll set up an appointment on her behalf to get a lobotomy." ????? note from ME: have a serious discussion with y/n at a later time about why i, a MAN, can't just talk to WOMEN like this!

despite the circumstances that led to having to make the list at all, joshua can't help but grin at it. the time spent with you at the cafe was not only helpful; it was fun. maybe the most fun he’s had with a woman since he started dating mina, who chased off all his female friends within the first two months of being in his life. joshua winces as he pockets the list, wondering how he didn’t see the red flags.

his thoughts are interrupted with the loud and obnoxious ping of the elevator as it arrives on mina’s floor. the doors slide open, and immediately, he hears the obscene sounds of a woman moaning down the hall. his eyes widen as he steps out and turns down the hall in the direction of mina’s apartment.

the walls of her place were always thin; they were constantly getting into wars with the neighbors that involved banging on the floor, ceiling, and shared walls with her broom. still, he had never heard this kind of noise from her neighbors.

“tell me about it.”

joshua looks to his right to find an older woman stepping out of her apartment and locking her door. he must have a look of shock on his face because she snorts and nods in what seems like solidarity as she tucks her empty reusable bags into her armpit.

“that girl doesn’t seem to ever stop,” she informs him. “i’ve complained to the building manager so many times, and still, here she is, screaming like a little banshee and disrupting this entire floor’s peace.”

joshua feels his skin break out into a cold sweat as his mind starts to go a mile a minute. “huh… interesting…”

“i mean,” the woman turns to step into the elevator joshua just walked out of. “what is she even doing? auditioning for a god damn porn? she sounds like my fucking shih tzu’s squeaky toy!”

he forces a laugh, too distracted to even feel uncomfortable over the inappropriate joke. “maybe,” he mutters. “she sure is putting on a performance.”

“oh my god!” the voice shrieks in perfect timing, making him flinch.

“ugh, inconsiderate! all hours of the day! does she even work?!” the woman shakes her head and clicks her tongue in disapproval as she presses a button and the doors close.

joshua stands there for a moment, staring at the elevator, unable to move as he listens to the noises of what could possibly be his girlfriend having sex with siwoo right now. it didn’t even sound remotely like her, and that fact terrifies him even more because if it is her, then she had to be faking it with someone. was she faking it with joshua or with siwoo?

he groans, letting his head fall into his hands.

“who cares?” he grumbles to himself. the last thing he should be worrying about is whether or not an adulterous liar like mina thought he was good in bed. he should definitely not care anymore. “i don’t care.”

joshua can practically hear jeonghan’s voice telling him, sure you don’t. he shakes his head, trying to banish his jeonghan-shaped conscience from his brain.

he doesn’t even know if it’s mina. it could very well be some other female neighbor; it’s not far-fetched for people to be having sex. he could just be paranoid right now since he knows she’s cheating on him.

each floor of mina’s apartment is huge—a maze, really. dozens of units, at least ten near the elevator, several people who could be having sex.

he always counted himself lucky that mina lived so close to the elevator, just down the hall a few units down. today, though, as the wailing reverberates off the walls of the hallway leading to the elevator, he thinks mina’s floor plan is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

his phone is to his ear before he can fully consider what he’s doing.

“did you do it?” you seem to dislike greeting people on the phone properly like a normal human being. you speak a little louder than usual, your surroundings lively and buzzing with the noise of what sounds like several conversations. “that was fast.”

“uh,” joshua elongates the sound for a few seconds while his brain tries to tune out the “porn audition” long enough to comprehend your question. “no… nope. i haven’t done it yet.”

“oh. then what’s up? you need backup after all?” you ask too seriously for him to confidently say you’re joking.

before you both parted ways at the cafe, you offered him company and said you could tag along and jump mina for him. you both laughed and said your goodbyes, but if what joshua fears right now is true, he definitely doesn’t hate the idea of you jumping her.

“i’m a little busy—well, kinda, not really—but i can fake some kind of horrific emergency and get out of here and over to you in…” you trail off, probably checking the time. “twenty minutes… maybe ten if i’m okay with breaking a few laws. which, rest assured, i am!”

he feels the dread over his predicament slipping as you keep talking, his emotions turning into an incredibly confusing mix of panic, amusement, anxiety, relief, and so on and so on. the number of odd emotions you elicit out of him are countless.

joshua glides over what he assumes is a joke and straight to the point; the faster he finds out what he needs to, the faster he can hopefully escape this building.

“do you know where siwoo is?” he asks, taking the first few tentative steps to mina’s door. he walks painstakingly slowly, almost tiptoeing even though there’s no possible way anyone could hear him over the lewd moans.

“he’s at dinner with his vile parents,” you say, sighing like you’d rather talk about anything else.

“are you sure?”

“yes… why?”

“like… how sure?” joshua presses.

“uh, 100 percent.” he can picture the frown on your face that usually matches this tone of yours—confused bordering on annoyed. “i’m literally staring at him as his awful monster of a mother tucks a napkin into his collar like a little fucking devil baby, bro.”

joshua doesn’t know how at a time like this, his brain has the capacity to still take note of how much he loathes when you call him bro. it’s a weird thought to have to process alongside the thousands of other things he’s suddenly feeling.

“i’m at the bar of this pretentious ass restaurant waiting on the bartender to finish their drink orders while they eat all the appetizers without me, like a good, little stay-at-home girlfriend slash maid slash server slash revenge connoisseur!” you inform him, your voice sarcastically cheerful. “i’m going to spit in all their drinks.” that bit comes out in your normal, low—and a little irritated—voice.

“wow” is all he says because his brain doesn’t supply him with anything else.

“like i said, revenge connoisseur,” you say, sounding bored. “so yes, i’m 100 percent sure he’s here. we have to have dinner with these assholes once a week but—” you cut yourself off as you address someone else. “ah, thank you! oh wait, can you actually remove the espresso beans from this one? the abominable woman who gave birth to my boyfriend doesn’t want to have too much caffeine this late in the day.”

joshua realizes his brain has the capacity to do a lot of things in stressful situations as long as he’s talking to you. because he stops walking and immediately starts laughing when he hears the bartender deadpan: “it’s an espresso martini.”

you sigh like you’ve had to explain this a million different times to a million different bartenders.

“joshua? hold on, okay?” you tell him before immediately addressing the bartender without waiting for him to reply. “listen, i get it. you don’t have to tell me. i know! she’s a ridiculous airhead who gets her life force from making little people like me suffer and ask for embarrassing things on her behalf. i don’t even care if you stick your bare fingers in there to pluck them out—in fact, i actually kind of prefer you do that. i just need them gone before she comes poking her snobby, little nose over here and demands you make her an entirely brand new one.”

that seems to do the job because the next thing you say is:

“thank you so much. and please give yourself a 50 percent tip—100 even!” you shout the last part as, joshua assumes, the bartender walks away. “it’s on their card, go crazy!”

the bartender says something that he can’t make out and you laugh. the sound of it—so light and mischievous and charismatic—completely severs the already increasingly weakened grip his panic has on him. he feels like he can breathe a little easier, even among the horrible sounds filling the hallway.

“okay, i’m back, sorry,” you say into the phone, picking up exactly where you left off as if you never stopped talking. “like i was saying, we do this shit every week, so i can definitely get out of this if you need me to. why are you asking about siwoo anyway?”

there’s something comforting about the way you’re ready to drop everything to get to joshua even though you just said bye less than an hour ago and you don’t even know why he’s calling. though, he does realize your eagerness is also probably due to the fact that you just don’t want to be around your cheating boyfriend and his family.

joshua exhales slowly through his nose. “well, it’s not quite your 100, but i am like, at least… 70 percent sure that mina is having sex with someone in her apartment as we speak. i thought it was siwoo, but…” he lets you come to your own conclusions.

the silence on the other end of the phone is so much more threatening than the gasping and yelling he expected. it stretches for so long that at some point, joshua wonders if you even heard him.

“did you—”

“i heard you,” you say, your voice clipped. you pause again for a shorter period and when you speak, you sound a lot less short. “i was trying to ignore it because i couldn’t imagine what the hell it was, but you definitely sound like you’re on the set of a porno.”

joshua grimaces, stepping away from the side of the hallway that mina’s apartment is on as if that will help—it doesn’t, not with the way it echoes off the walls. he cups his hand around the mouthpiece of his phone, hoping that it will keep the shih tzu squeaky toy sound effects from traveling to you. “shit, i’m sorry,” he breathes, scurrying down the hallway and several units past mina’s apartment in a desperate attempt to get away from the moaning. “i didn’t realize you could hear it clearly.”

“are you running away from the noise, joshua hong?” you ask, obviously amused.

“um, maybe.”

“wow, what a gentleman, protecting my innocence like this,” you fake-sigh like you’re swooning on the other end of the line and he blushes furiously. he can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “chivalry is not dead.”

“you’re so insufferable!” he whisper-yells at you. the poor residents of this floor already have to deal with ‘round-the-clock sex; they don’t need to add him being obnoxiously loud on the phone too. “i’m having a horrible time right now, and you’re joking around?!”

you giggle. “okay, fine. i’m insufferable. but at least i made you smile.”

“and how on earth could you possibly know that if you can’t even see me?”

you snort. “please. i can hear it in your voice. your smile transcends all obstacles, hong. you could smile on the other side of the world and i’d know it.”

the claim makes joshua’s hands clammy, and he finds he has no idea what to say to that. he can barely breathe, but this time, it feels a little different—not quite so wrought with anxiety like it was when he first exited the elevator.

sensing you may have gone overboard with your compliment this time, you clear your throat and steer the conversation back on track.

“mina is a real piece of work,” you state the obvious before rambling a little. “cheating on you… cheating on siwoo… though, is that called cheating if siwoo is also her sidepiece…? no, right? she’s just cheating on you twice—fuck, sorry, that was so callous and dumb to say.” he hears something that sounds like you hitting your forehead repeatedly.

“yeah… i don’t know…” his mind is not on the logistics of the cheating.

“okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” you say, voice kicking into high-gear. “i’ve been gone from the table for almost… 10 minutes; these rats get impatient after, like, two.”

joshua leans against the wall, finding your little plotting voice weirdly comforting.

“siwoo is going to stand up any moment now to see what’s taking so long at the insistence of his egg donor.”

he closes his eyes and tries to calm his heartbeat, smiling a little at your refusal to call siwoo’s mom anything but his mom.

“and when he does, i’m—oh my god, i’m amazing.”

joshua opens his eyes and frowns. “what?”

you laugh in disbelief before frantically whispering, “siwoo just got up and is walking over here. he is so predictable. also, i just got the ick so bad. this idiot forgot to take his little napkin bib off. okay, he’s almost here. don’t reply to anything i say, alright?”

“al—”

“oh my god, are you serious?!” you shriek at joshua. he immediately brings his phone away from his ear. “are you okay?” you pause like you’re listening to a nonexistent response. “holy shit, girl—” your next words are an exaggerated whisper. “—it’s soph, she’s on a date, having… explosive diarrhea!”

joshua looks at his phone incredulously. he doesn’t know how you manage to sound so convincing when it’s clear to him everything you say comes to mind the very second before you say it.

“that’s disgusting.” his eyes involuntarily narrow at what can only be siwoo’s voice. he sounds just as dumb as joshua thought he would.

“i have to go!” you exclaim.

“what?! why?”

“did you hear me?! soph is having a crisis! what am i supposed to do, just leave her in the bathroom of some dingy sushi restaurant covered in her own shit while her date thinks she snuck out on her?!” she speaks back into the phone. “hold on, girl.”

he snorts as he passes a hand over his face in embarrassment even though he’s completely alone. he’s truly amazed at how committed you are to your act. he would’ve cracked before he ever even got to utter the word “diarrhea.”

“uh, yes? we’re at dinner with my parents and that sounds like a really gross her problem.”

joshua rolls his eyes. siwoo is an asshole through and through.

you pause and he likes to imagine you’re taking a moment to really process what a fucking dick your boyfriend is. “i’ll be quick, baby,” you say through barely concealed annoyance. his eye twitches at the term of endearment anyway. “tell your parents i said sorry! i’ll text you when i’m on my way home! soph, i’m on my way!”

“y/n!” his voice is further away than he previously sounded. “what about our drinks?!”

“ask the bartender!” you practically bellow at him. “fucking incompetent. ‘what about our drinks?’” your impression of siwoo is simply an exaggerated baby voice, and joshua thinks it sounds exactly the same. “what the fuck kind of question? where else would you get your drinks?” you mutter—to yourself, joshua presumes. “okay, shua, i am free and i am on my way!”

he doesn’t even have the opportunity to be surprised about you coming to mina’s apartment; he’s too caught off-guard by the sudden nickname.

“hello?” you call, suddenly sounding like you’re, at the very least, brisk-walking if not fully running. “you can talk now! i am not in the restaurant anym—oop, excuse me, sorry!”

“shua?” joshua repeats mindlessly.

“aw, don’t like it? we can workshop that too,” you huff, excusing yourself as you navigate whatever street you’re on. “i think it’s cute, though. no? shua... shua!”

you repeat it a few more times like that will get him to agree. most of the instances of “shua” are breathed out in a quick exhale as you move, and joshua is almost completely convinced you’re running.

“okay, i’m kind of losing the meaning of ‘shua’ now. i swear it’s cute, though.”

he smiles. “uh, yeah, it’s… cute. different but cute.”

“right? josh is tired,” you claim. “shua feels more fitting for you. anyway, give me… 12 minutes and i will be there.”

“why are you coming here again?’ he asks, remembering to feel confused about your plans.

“for moral support, hello?” you answer like it’s obvious. “ah! sorry!” you shout at someone who curses. “you have me now, dude.” dude is better than bro, he supposes. “we don’t have to go through these traumatic events alone anymore! i’ll be there and if you want me to blow my cover and this entire plan so i can slap mina across the face, i will!”

his mouth twitches to keep from smirking. the thought is tempting. “you really don’t have to—”

“shut up, i just told siwoo my best friend is having explosive diarrhea for you,” you point out, practically panting now. “we cannot walk this back! now go break up with that horrid bitch, and if she really is fucking someone in there, you tell me and i’ll march up there and win my very first fistfight… uh, what floor is her apartment, by the way?”

joshua shakes his head, trying his hardest not to grin. “no, you stay downstairs. there will be no fistfights tonight. i’ll see you in a bit.”

“got it, boss.”

“and stop running,” he orders. “you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“mmm, agree to disagree,” you heave. “see you soon!” you hang up in a hurry, giving him no time to say bye.

as he stands in the hallway, he realizes that in the time he spent with you on the phone, the moans subsided. between the absence of your mayhem and the vulgarity of maybe-mina’s maybe-cheating, it’s almost eerie how suddenly quiet the floor is.

he drags his feet as he makes his way back to mina’s door. when he gets there, he tentatively presses an ear to the wood, and when he can’t hear anything, he raises his fist and knocks before he can change his mind. several seconds pass and he doesn’t hear anyone coming to the door or even speaking. his discomfort eases a little as he starts to think maybe she’s not even home.

mina isn’t one to deviate from her plans; she gets irritable when she has to, so joshua knows that pilates definitely had to be on the agenda today. and if she’s not home yet, then she should be arriving any moment now. he punches in the code for her apartment, determined to wait it out and get this over with because he has no plans to spend another day tied down to a cheater.

“mina?” he calls out as soon as he steps in. he almost bends down to take his shoes off, thinks twice about it, and leaves them on. what did you call it again? taking your small joys wherever you can. tracking dirt into mina’s apartment felt like a small joy right now.

with no response, he heads into the kitchen to grab himself a water bottle before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. he’s about to take his notes out again when he hears a door click. he frowns.

“hello?” mina’s voice tentatively calls out from the hallway.

“it’s me,” joshua says, leaving his notes where they are in his pocket. “i knocked but i guess you didn’t hear.”

“josh?” mina rounds the corner, in her bathrobe. she smiles brightly when she confirms it’s him. “hey, baby. what are you doing here?”

she walks up to him with the ease of a loyal girlfriend. he’s astounded by it, actually; how she can act so sweet and kind and cute when she’s sleeping with siwoo every chance she gets. if he thinks about it too hard, it actually scares him.

she loops her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, hooking her chin on his shoulder. he tenses and immediately slips off the stool and out of her grip.

“i wanted to talk to you, remember?” he says, stepping away when she tries to reach for him again. she frowns like she’s finally understanding there’s a problem. “yesterday. but you said you were busy.” busy fucking siwoo.

even with a direct reference to her infidelity, mina doesn’t bat an eye. he thinks she could probably thrive in a career in acting. “yeah, i had to clock some overtime yesterday,” she lies. “it was such a drag,” she complains as she gets her own water bottle from the fridge. “i paid for my pilates class and everything and had to pay the fee for missing it.”

the lies roll of her tongue so effortlessly, joshua knows he would’ve easily believed them if he didn’t have cold, hard proof. even with the cold, hard proof, he wonders if there’s any way you could have still gotten it wrong. he knows you didn’t. maybe he is gullible because after two days, he already trusts you more than he does mina.

“pilates,” he repeats in a daze.

she raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip. she caps her bottle again and nods slowly. “yes, baby, pilates… is everything okay?”

“mina, have you ever cheated on me?”

joshua sees it then—the crack in her facade. her eyes widen, not with surprise or disbelief the way an innocent person’s probably would, but fear. to her credit, it passes quickly as she schools her expression into one of bewilderment. if joshua hadn’t known to look for it, he knows he would have missed it. he would have missed it along with all the other red flags he’s missed.

“why are you asking me that?” she asks, her voice sharp with the vexation of someone who’s been offended. joshua doesn’t let it faze him.

he shrugs, clenching his jaw briefly before speaking again. “just answer the question, mina.”

mina seems to realize joshua isn’t in the mood for games because her shoulders deflate the tiniest bit, her eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other as she tries to think of what to say. he knows it’s because in the year they’ve been together, joshua has never—not once—lost his temper or expressed any kind of annoyance with her.

it’s always “joshua is so sweet,” “joshua is such a gentleman,” “joshua is so kind,” “joshua is so mild mannered,” “joshua is so fucking gullible.”

joshua is done.

“mina.”

he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out sharp and raised the way it does, but when she flinches, he realizes his patience is slipping faster than jeonghan could ever dream of making it.

“wh—?” she squeezes her eyes shut like she’s trying to understand how they got here. “what?” she suddenly shrieks, eyes opening wide with disbelief and what he’s sure she thinks is translating as devastation. “what are you even saying, joshua?!”

the sheer amount of willpower it takes to keep from rolling his eyes is staggering. “it should be an easy question to answer,” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly. “so i think the fact that you refuse to is an answer in itself.”

he sets his bottle on the counter and moves to step around her so he can leave and just let it be over with—going out, not with a bang, but with a pathetic little sigh—but she steps the same direction, palms out like she’ll shove him if he gets any closer to the door.

“what the fuck are you on right now?” she asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into an ugly, displeased sneer like a switch just flipped.

joshua feels the hair on the back of his neck stand as he frowns down at her. she doesn’t try to wrestle her face into playing along with her placating, innocent girl act. instead, she wears her scowl proudly, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance as she blocks his way from his emergency exit.

“you’re not leaving until you tell me why you’re asking me that,” she states.

he finds her rage as discomforting as yours but in wildly different ways. your anger makes him freeze up and almost panic; it renders him unable to speak or even think, and he’s still not even sure why. but mina’s makes him physically cringe away. it… annoys him.

just like she wasn’t used to his impatience, he wasn’t used to her being angry—at least not at him. all mina’s ever been angry about have been baristas who used 2% instead of fat free milk in her lattes (and yes, she insists she can tell), long wait times, and her boss demanding she work overtime. though joshua realizes that was probably just an excuse to see siwoo.

“mina, why are you doing this?” he asks, exasperated.

“why am i doing this?!” she repeats, scoffing so obnoxiously hard in his face, spit lands on his cheek.

he closes his eyes for a brief moment as he wipes it away, willing his patience to hold out long enough to get him out of this building.

“why are you doing this?! why are you as—”

“because i know!” he shouts over her increasingly high-pitched whining. “i’m asking because i know all about how awful you’ve been, mina! and i wanted to see if after a year together, you’d at least have the decency to be honest with me!”

mina’s attitude drops, her hands immediately combing through her hair frantically, a nervous tic she always had.

“i know you were faking business trips, i know you were sleeping around, i know you were fucking him last night when i told you i needed to talk to you—when your boyfriend of a year wanted to see you!”

she stares at him helplessly, mouth hung open and her eyes quickly filling with tears. he realizes as he stares back, feeling nothing but resentment and disdain for her, that your wildly fluctuating emotions unnerve him because he wants to find a way to get you back to your baseline, if not all the way to the other end to happy.

as he watches mina begin to weep, he feels none of that. for the first time in his life, joshua yearns to be cruel. he wants to make her cry harder, and it makes him resent her even more—for making him think and feel something so reprehensible.

he suddenly sees why you’re so open to letting your fury flow through every part of you before unapologetically releasing it right out into the world the way you do. after a lifetime of insisting on being the calm one, the collected one, the unbothered one, the unfeeling one, he realizes that being angry like this is addicting—freeing.

“baby, i…”

“don’t, mina, i’m not your fucking baby,” he says. even he can hear how tired he sounds.

“i’m so sorry,” she whispers, voice cracking. “i am, i really am. i don’t know why i did it. i—i don’t know—i’m so—i…”

“save it,” he puts her out of her misery of trying to find the right words to manipulate him into thinking she’s anything other than the deceitful cheater she is. “i know you don’t regret hurting me like this. i—”

“no, i do!” she wails, throwing herself at him now.

he immediately starts untangling himself from her hold but she makes it impossible, her grabby hands all over him as she tries to get him to stop attempting to escape her.

“mina, let go o—”

“i regret it, joshua, i swear to god i regret it!” she weeps so loudly now, he starts to feel dread gathering in the pit of his stomach the way it did when he broke up with miyoung. “i never wanted to hurt you, i love you!”

“holy shit,” he grumbles, shoving her hands off him and stepping away from her even though it meant being farther from the only exit. “how can you even say that to my face right now?”

“it’s true!” she screams, grating his nerves. “i love you! i want to spend the rest of my life with you! it was all a mistake! minhyuk was just a temptation i gave into at a weak moment, and i swear it didn’t mean—”

“who the hell is minhyuk?” he asks, frowning when her words finally catch up to him.

mina freezes, and it’s like her tears get the memo because they stop too. it’s the only reason joshua knows that no matter how convincing, this was also just an act.

he glares now.

“who. is. minhyuk. mina?” he staggers his words like it’ll help her few remaining brain cells unite long enough to understand and answer his question.

“i… what do you mean? you said… you said you knew that i… you said—”

“i know about siwoo,” he clarifies, his temper at its breaking point. he’s a moment away from calling you to come up here and make sure he doesn’t land himself in jail, wrecking mina’s entire apartment in an attempt to claw his way out of it. “who the fuck is minhyuk?”

joshua doesn’t think he’s ever cussed this much in his life.

“i—”

“who the fuck is siwoo?”

joshua’s head whips around toward the voice, coming from the hallway that leads to mina’s room. the laugh that immediately escapes his mouth is instinctive and hysterical. he doesn’t know any other way to react than to start laughing; if he doesn’t, he’s positive he’ll somehow spontaneously combust.

because standing in mina’s hallway is one of the many reasons her neighbors despise her. a very half naked reason, dressed only in boxers.

“are you for fucking real?” mina hisses, shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as if joshua isn’t even in the room. “i told you to wait in the room and be fucking quiet, you moron. are you—”

“who is siwoo?!” the man shouts now.

joshua’s laughs peter out, and with them goes his anger. he sighs, shaking his head and remembering how drained he feels.

“i take it you’re minhyuk.” the man glares at him but doesn’t respond, so he nods. “well, mina, i guess you were truthful about one thing: you really were busy last night, weren’t you?”

“how did you even know siwoo stopped by here?!” she yells. joshua hopes building management kicks her out after the noise complaints she’s bound to get from today alone.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking cheating on me!” minhyuk disappears back into mina’s room, shouting nonsense as he gathers his things.

“you’re definitely not the one who was cheated on!” joshua calls after him, rolling his eyes. he turns back to mina, mustering up the very last of his energy to finally end it. “mina. you’re disgusting. i will move on from this remembering you as nothing other than a nasty stain on my otherwise amazing life.”

a squeak of protest erupts from her mouth, but he doesn’t let her get a word in.

“but you... you’ll continue to do whatever sleazy shit you’ve been up to for who knows how long, and one day, you’ll wake up and realize how empty and tragic and ugly you and your life both are—” she has the audacity to look offended at the word ugly. “—and you won’t be able to do anything to change that because no one worth having around will have cared enough to stick by you.”

her tears start again and this time, they feel real—they don’t come with screaming or begging or lying. they steadily stream down her face and it makes joshua feel like he’s high.

“your commitment to being a selfish asshole really has you by the neck and i pray to god it starts squeezing with both hands,” he says, delivering your line with a tight-lipped smile.

he finally steps around her, making his way to the door. he opens it and just before he leaves, he thinks, what the hell? and turns back.

“mina,” he calls softly. she turns back to him, face red and splotchy. “don’t contact me. if i ever see your phone number on my screen, i’ll personally call every single cafe on this fucking continent and make sure they only serve you whole fat milk for the rest of your life.”

she gasps like he just made a legitimate threat, and he gets the immature and overwhelming urge to ridicule and laugh at her.

“oh, and get some fucking help,” he adds before turning away and leaving without waiting for her reaction.

fortunately, he gets the elevator immediately.

unfortunately, none other than minhyuk comes barreling in before the doors close. he has the sense to at least look ashamed, throwing joshua a pitiful smile, but it isn’t enough, so he steps forward and presses a finger to the button that keeps the doors open.

he doesn’t say anything, blankly staring at the man who apparently had sex with his girlfriend either before or after siwoo did last night. minhyuk gets the clue and sighs.

“bro, we’re on the 13th floor,” he protests.

he still doesn’t respond. finally, when several seconds of minhyuk fidgeting have passed, the man groans dramatically—not unlike mina herself—and he stomps out of the elevator and toward the stairwell.

joshua smiles to himself, releasing the button and letting the elevator doors close and take him down to the lobby—down to you.

when joshua exits mina’s building, you’re waiting exactly where you had accosted the two of them the night before, sweaty and disheveled from your run over, but somehow still looking so incredibly pretty.

you take one look at his face and know exactly how the entire conversation went down without even having to ask. then, an interesting thing happens: you do something joshua thinks is akin to exploding, and he has to hold you back from storming the building. you don’t even know where mina lives, but he knows if he lets you go, you’ll knock on every single door of all 25 floors until you find her and sock her in the face.

and even as he tries to calm you down now, something warms his heart knowing you care enough to do something as ridiculous as that.

“you’re causing a scene,” he grunts, stepping in your way again when you try to dodge him.

“if you think this is a scene, you’re gonna hate what i’m about to cause on whatever goddamn floor that bitch lives on!” you inform him.

“i’m not telling you and the front desk won’t either. he’d probably call security on you before you even get to the elevators.”

“i don’t care! i’ll punch the man at the front desk too! my fists are rated E for everyone!” you shriek wildly, darting back and forth as you try to get around him. against his will, an amused snort escapes him.

when it’s clear to you that joshua’s height and long legs are going to make it impossible for you to fake him out, you give up on going around and decide to go through.

joshua shouts in surprise when you barrel right into him, opting for pushing him backwards to get a few steps forward. he catches on quickly and digs his heels in, gripping your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length.

“she’s not worth this time or energy,” he tells you.

“oh, i disagree, i think she’s worth a lot of my time and energy!” you refute. “i think she’s worth as much of my time and energy as it takes for me to rock her shit!”

you groan as you struggle against his hold, and he almost laughs at how hard you seem to be trying because it’s relatively easy to keep you where you are. you shrug his hands off and slap him away, charging forward again, but before you can, he plants his palm on your forehead, stopping you in your tracks.

“yah! joshua hong!” you shove his arm away from your forehead, and he can’t help when the laughs finally break free. “how are you laughing right now? i could kill her!”

he shrugs, his laughter suddenly snowballing until his hands are on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath.

he can’t do anything other than laugh. he has to laugh at the year he’s wasted with mina, or he’ll drive himself crazy asking himself what’s wrong with him that his taste led him so astray (something to unpack when he inevitably returns to his therapist). he has to laugh at the memory of walking in while minhyuk was still there or he’ll fixate on the fact that he has no idea how many men mina’s cheated on him with—and the fact that he needs to go get tested for STDs immediately. there is no other option but to laugh because he has no idea how someone’s life can change this fast because of an instagram DM.

when he finally stops, he sighs, straightening up to find you looking at him with a blank expression.

“oh, you’re so not okay,” you mutter.

“i’m fine,” he insists, shaking his head. he rests his hands back on your shoulders, this time gently, and he nods once. “this has just been the most ridiculous 24 hours of my life, and i’m tired and i’m starving. can we please escape this hellhole and eat? i’ll even pay.”

your eyes narrow at that, studying his face like you’re trying to see if he’s lying to you about being okay. he isn’t—at least he doesn’t think he is—but he also doesn’t think you’d be able to tell if he were anyway.

“i know a ramen spot near here?” you offer hesitantly.

it irks him that you not only have a go-to fried chicken spot in the area but a ramen spot too, and only because you’ve followed siwoo here enough times to have favorites. he thinks you deserve to find favorites in more meaningful ways.

he doesn’t say that, though, of course. instead, joshua looks you up and down before he scans himself, pointedly staring at how sweaty the two of you are in this sticky summer heat.

“ramen is good for the soul,” you say, reading his mind. “the best comfort food. plus, you’ll sweat out all your heartache.”

“i have no heartache to sweat out.”

“right,” you agree, nodding easily and in a way that makes him question if you’re being sarcastic or not. “maybe we should invite jeonghan.”

he tilts his head. he’s not opposed because he needs to fill his best friend in, but he’s also not enjoying you being the one to suggest it. “why…?”

you shrug. “my offers to dole out violence on your behalf can only go so far. your best friend will probably be better equipped to handle… whatever that was that just happened right now.”

he snickers and rolls his eyes. “okay, i’ll text him.”

“no need, i already did!” you say as you loop your arm through his and begin to pull him away from the building.

he scoffs, a little too aware of the scowl that erupts on his face. “how do you have jeonghan’s number?”

you look up at him and snort. “we all exchanged information last night, remember?”

no, you and joshua exchanged information last night after he insisted on it so he knew when you got home safe. his eye twitches when he thinks about jeonghan sneaking you his number too—and maybe even texting or calling you as much as he was today.

“he’s waiting for us at the ramen shop.”

he clenches his jaw before forcing a smile. “you really are such a well-prepared individual, aren’t you.”

“gotta be if i’m going to ruin siwoo and mina’s lives.”

“mina? i thought—”

“oh baby,” you say it with fake pity like he’s actually a child, but he finds he likes it a hell of a lot more than dude. infinitely more than bro. “she doesn’t get a pass anymore. that ship sailed when she decided to do my shua like that.” oh, he likes that one a lot. “she’s officially back in the plan.”

joshua grins genuinely now, nodding without arguing. even if he didn’t want you to wrap your metaphorical revenge hands around mina’s ugly neck and shake violently (he does), he knows arguing with you is futile.

“okay.” he feels the exhaustion from earlier slowly leave his body, already feeling lighter as he walks with you, arms looped together like you’ve been best friends for years. “let’s ruin some lives then.”

you look up at him and squeeze his arm, jumping a little as you squeal, “let’s!”

“bye, y/n.”

joshua tries not to glare as jeonghan pulls you into a hug, one arm snaking around your waist as he grins over your shoulder at him. he flashes his eyebrows at him and all his efforts go to waste. he gives him the nastiest glower he can. his best friend’s smirk just widens.

he doesn’t know what’s going on—with jeonghan, with you, with the both of you, with himself. for the first 40 minutes sitting in the restaurant, joshua retold the hellish afternoon he experienced and took all of his best friend’s many i-told-you-so, what-a-bitch, and i-knew-she-was-a-snake comments with grace. but as soon as that was over, jeonghan flipped a switch.

all night, the man has been acting so weird with you, laughing too hard at everything you say, touching you any chance he gets, saying things just because he knows you’ll agree. and all night, for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on, it’s been driving joshua up the wall. it’s probably because you’re literally still in a relationship. his best friend could at least wait until you’re properly single before he starts doing whatever jeonghan-styled mating call this is.

nope. that’s not it. that thought drives him even further up this insufferable, metaphorical wall.

“later,” you say as you step back. “don’t forget to send me that brand of hair remover you were looking at.” you turn over your shoulder and joshua immediately drops his glare and smiles. if you saw the look he was giving jeonghan, you don’t show it. instead, you wink at him. “we’re going to need that for mina’s shampoo now, huh, shua?”

“shua,” jeonghan repeats, obviously delighted, eyebrows rising and grin quickly entering shit-eating levels. “cute!”

you turn back to him excitedly. “right?! i think so too!”

“you’re such a genius, y/n,” he says, sounding nauseatingly lovesick. joshua silently scoffs at him behind your back. he should know better, though, because that just eggs him on. “i’ll text you the link as soon as i get home. or—” he meets his eyes again. “—i’ll just call you!”

“sure, whatever,” you shrug, as indifferent as ever. it makes joshua happy. maybe a direct rejection would make him even happier, though. “get home safe!”

“yeah, get home safe,” joshua echoes as jeonghan steps around you to hug him as well. “don’t fall into a manhole or get run over by a massive truck or anything,” he mutters too quietly for anyone else but him to hear.

“i love you too, man,” jeonghan laughs, rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulder as he steps away. “call me if you need to drink your sorrows away. see you two!”

he finally walks off toward his car as you step up to joshua’s side, looping your arm through his again. his heart immediately slows, recovering from the irritation of dealing with a menace.

“jeonghan knows i have zero interest in dating him, right?”

joshua can’t help the bark of laughter that all but rips its way out of him.

“no, like,” you laugh a little, “he comes on so strong? i don’t think i’ve ever met someone as bold as he is.”

that’s ironic, seeing as joshua has never met anyone as bold as you.

“i don’t know if he knows that,” he says honestly. “but either way, he wouldn’t make a move until you were single.”

he gets brief flashes of jeonghan’s fingers brushing up against yours, jeonghan delivering wings onto your plate, jeonghan hugging you a beat too long, jeonghan existing around you.

“i think,” he adds, frowning.

you make a sound of disbelief as you both watch jeonghan pull out of his spot and drive away. you both stay rooted to the spot, watching nothing in particular.

“i am single. for all intents and purposes, i am absolutely single.”

joshua is alarmed at how horrible the chill that runs up his spine feels—like an omen of how unbearable his life will become if two crazy people like you and jeonghan join forces to become one.

“i just happen to be a single woman pretending to still love her ex so she can obliterate his entire existence from the inside out.”

“right,” he says, nodding. “of course. i just mean that… i—uh… i have no idea what i mean. but i’ll tell jeonghan to fuck off.”

you whistle, laughing after you do. “i think that’s the first time i heard you cuss,” you inform him. “my shua cussing…”

you don’t finish your thought because you giggle, and he thinks the sound triggers his fight or flight. he lets you laugh and when it fades, you shake your head.

“don’t tell jeonghan to fuck off,” you tell him. “it’s fun. flattering.”

“flattering?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

you shrug. “i’ve been with that idiot, siwoo, for two years. i guess it’s nice to know that someone thinks i’m cute enough to flirt with. at least i know i’m still an eligible bachelorette.”

joshua huffs out a laugh of disbelief. “are you serious?”

you yank your arm out of his, startling him. “what?! you don’t think i’m cute enough to flirt with?!” you ask, half offended but obviously thoroughly amused.

“quite the opposite, actually,” he says before he can convince himself not to. he’s about to start sputtering about how he means it in the most platonic and objective way possible, but since you’re you, he doesn’t need to.

“good, that’s what i thought,” you say, grinning and weaving your arm through the ditch of his elbow again. “i’m very cute.”

joshua is glad you’re so comfortable to be around. he knows if he agreed with you now, you’d happily accept the compliment, but if the roles were reversed, he would be flustered for the next week.

you two enjoy a comfortable silence before he sighs contentedly and looks down at you to ask if you’re ready to leave. he forgets what he’s about to say when he meets your eyes, though.

you’re already looking up at him and smiling softly. “did you like the ramen? do you feel better?” you ask, tilting your head.

he thinks you would look nice resting it against his shoulder. “i feel much better,” he confirms. “thanks again—for coming so fast and so last minute without me even asking you to.” he pauses to think, frowning when he confronts how ride-or-die you’ve been for him today. “and even before that. thanks for workshopping all those horrible lines with me.”

you grin. “don’t mention it, dude.” he’s too content right now to make a face at that. at least it’s not bro. “it was a lot of fun, actually.”

“i still don’t think i have any heartache to sweat out into any other bowls of ramen—” you snicker. “—but it’s nice to know i have two people to cry to if i ever do.”

you nod enthusiastically. “exactly! you have jeonghan, and you have me now.”

he hums, feeling an intense desire to say you have him too—because you do, and you unfortunately already have jeonghan as well—but he stops himself. he’s only known you one day, and he’s just not as courageous as you are with your words.

“it’s nice,” you mutter, “to have people to go through these things with.”

joshua doesn’t voice his curiosity about your own friendships. were there no other people you were able to expect this kind of support from? where was this soph you used to excuse yourself from dinner? any other friends? family?

he lets his curiosity simmer. you’ve already subjected each other to incredibly intimate parts of your life; the rest can come another day.

“hopefully, it’s the first and last time we go through this,” he remarks, chuckling.

“one can hope,” you agree. “and the ramen?” you prod. “was it good?”

“i loved it,” he says honestly, “but—”

“‘but’?!” you practically shriek. “but what?! the ramen here is really good! what could you possibly have to say about the ramen here?”

he laughs, looking away from you and rolling his eyes at how fast you are to pounce. “i love the ramen, but,” he continues, “we need to find you some favorites that don’t involve roaming around the area that siwoo and mina happen to be in. i’ll show you some of my favorites. away from here. and if you want your own favorites, then we’ll go to a place you’ve never been and we’ll find you new favorites. but i hate to inform you… this will be the last time we eat in this godforsaken area so i hope you enjoyed that.”

when joshua looks back down at you, you’re no longer smiling. he tenses when he realizes you look a little sad, your mouth turned down at the corners so slightly, he probably wouldn’t notice if he weren’t so close to your face.

“oh,” he breathes, “y/n, i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

you shake your head quickly and he clamps his mouth shut.

“y’know,” you say quietly, like any louder and you’ll start crying. he doesn’t doubt that you would. it’s been a whole 24 hours since you did—at least in front of him. “it really fucking sucks… finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, and on top of that, having to continue relying on him.”

your hold on his forearm tightens for a moment, and before he can think about it, he removes his right hand from his pocket and closes it over yours.

“and i know that we’ve only known each other for like… a day,” you say, laughing even though your voice is getting dangerously watery, “but every time we talk… i stop to think i’m really lucky that of all the people i could’ve been suffering through this with, it turned out to be you.”

joshua’s mouth parts to say something, but nothing comes out because nothing even comes to mind. there you go again—so honest and forthcoming and bold and you. there you go again, making his brain the most useless organ in his body without even trying.

“you’re really nice,” you sigh. “thank you.” you turn away and wipe at your eyes quickly before taking your hand back from his and releasing his arm altogether. he immediately feels a little colder. he returns his hand to his pocket. “for my last dinner in this stupid fucking neighborhood.”

he clears his throat. “you’re welcome.”

“i’ll hold you to it, y’know,” you warn him, bumping his shoulder. “don’t think you can say nice things like that and then have no follow-through.”

from the way you say it, he knows you’re thinking of siwoo. he wonders what sort of tiny things siwoo promised you that he never delivered on if he couldn’t even do something as simple as stay true to you. joshua thinks it will be easy for him to show you how nice people can be when they aren’t taking you for granted.

“good, hold me to it.”

“i will! you owe me a favorite chicken shop, a favorite ramen shop, a favorite boba shop, a favorite ice c—”

“jesus christ, how often were you here?”

you laugh loudly. “you owe me so many favorites.”

joshua smiles. “come on,” he says. “we’ll get you all those favorites. but for now, let’s get you home.”

“goodbye forever, ramen shop,” you bid the establishment farewell happily. “and goodbye, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

he grins. “good riddance, stupid fucking neighborhood!”

you’re consumed by giggles hearing him curse again.

acting normal while texting you proves to be the hardest thing joshua has done every single time he does it. it’s either you’re being incredibly funny and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot, or you’re saying a bold inside thought and he’s smiling at his phone like an idiot. either way, even if he thinks he does a good job at appearing normal via text, he knows he looks crazy in person.

“you’re cheesing real hard, bro.”

joshua immediately locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket as he forces his face into a blank stare.

“smooth,” jeonghan says, snickering from where he’s sprawled across the other side of joshua’s couch, no longer paying attention to the movie he begged to put on. “texting y/n?”

“no.” the lie comes out before he can even think about it. “watched a funny video.”

he hums, a soft smile on his lips. joshua knows he doesn’t believe him. “well, speaking of her, what’s going on with the two of you anyway?”

“what?”

“what’s going on with—”

“no, i heard you,” he laughs. “i just meant, like… what do you mean? i’m helping her with siwoo. you know that.”

he narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly, but being his best friend, joshua is educated on all the nuances jeonghan’s face comes with.

“what?” he asks again.

“do you like her?”

“yeah, she’s cool. kind of intense but cool. don’t you?”

jeonghan rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s trying not to smile too widely. he cocks an eyebrow at him. “i mean, do you like like her? do you fancy her?”

joshua scoffs. “what?”

it’s such a ridiculous question to ask someone who broke up with his girlfriend not even a full week ago. he thinks he was mostly telling the truth when he told you he had no heartache for him to expel from his body because both his heart and brain have been fairly quiet since that afternoon, but even then, he’s still too disoriented from how fast his life changed to think about liking anyone.

“it’s been days since mina and i broke up,” he reminds his best friend. “how could i already be interested in someone else?”

“well, mina didn’t wait to break up before she bec—”

“okay,” joshua holds a hand up to stop him from pointing out mina’s infidelity for the thousandth time since they found out. “mina and i aren’t the same. i can’t just jump into something else so quickly after. and it’s not even about mina.”

“oooh,” jeonghan sits up properly and crosses his legs, folding his hands over his knee. “explain.”

he shrugs. “i don’t really feel all that torn up about her as much as i am about how bad my instincts are.”

he frowns. “your instincts?”

“yeah, like… the signs were glaringly obvious,” joshua explains. “you knew she was a snake before all of this; you just didn’t know why. how come i didn’t see any of that? and,” he practically yells as he resituates himself on the couch so that he’s fully facing jeonghan, “how could i have thought i was going to possibly marry someone like that? i can’t even think about looking at another person until i wrap my mind around how i could have ever thought i was in love. what if i don’t even know what love is?”

“whoa, okay—”

“what if i end up with another mina?”

“—slow down,” jeonghan raises his hands like he’s trying to calm a bull. he mirrors his position, fully turning to him on the sofa now. “first of all, you know what love is. your judgment was just clouded for a little bit! you were lost in the joy of having a girlfriend that lasted a lot longer than the others. or you were being a weirdo and getting swallowed up by the plight of being in your 30s with no prospects for marriage, so you deluded yourself into thinking mina was it.”

joshua’s mouth pops open in shock a little at that. “i mean… that’s… plausible.”

“whatever it is—even if it is that she fooled you and you were blind to all the red flags, that doesn’t mean you don’t know what love is. how could you not know what love is when i’m your best friend? i love the shit out of you.”

he does crack a smile at this. he lets the reminder sink in and marinate in his brain. jeonghan could very much be right on the money with this one; after all, mina came at a time when joshua was starting to question if his love life was cursed. he was fresh out of therapy he sought out because his ex broke up with him for essentially being a robot, and he was eager to share more of himself with the next one—to love the next one harder than he had the rest. maybe he really was just forcing something to be that wasn’t meant to be.

“say it back.”

he laughs. “i love you too.” he sighs. “what else?”

“huh?”

“you said ‘first of all.’ i assume you have a second of all?”

jeonghan frowns for a moment before a light bulb goes off in his head. “yes! second of all, y/n is not mina.”

“wait, what?”

“you said, ‘what if i end up with another mina?’ y/n is not mina.”

“of course she’s not mina,” joshua says. that much is obvious; if mina is one end of the spectrum, you’re so far on the other end, it went all the way back around to mina. “but why are we even talking about y/n?”

“because it’s clear you like her,” he informs him, amused.

“i don’t like her like that,” he disagrees confidently and somewhat exasperatedly. whenever jeonghan got ideas like this in his head, it became an inarguable truth to him regardless of what anyone else said. he knows if he doesn’t nip it in the bud, he’ll run with it for the rest of their lives. “she’s funny and nice and cool to hang out with, but she’s just a friend.”

“is that why you’re texting and calling her 24/7 when the rest of us feel like we’re pulling teeth trying to get you to respond to us?” jeonghan points out. joshua opens his mouth to refute his point, but he steamrolls right over his words. “is that why you’re extra mean to me whenever the three of us hang out?”

“we’ve only hung out all three of us twice. and what do you mean i’m mean to you?”

his best friend laughs openly in his face. “you’re really going to tell me you don’t notice the way you kick me or interrupt me or glare at me whenever so much as an ounce of y/n’s attention is on me instead of you?”

is that what his odd behavior at the ramen shop was about? he was trying to get on joshua’s nerves as some kind of experiment?

joshua narrows his eyes at him. “i do those things because you’re annoying me.”

“i’ve annoyed you our whole lives,” he shoots right back. “you’ve only started abusing me recently.”

“you’re so dramatic and wrong.”

“okay!” jeonghan agrees too easily. he stands up.

“where are you going?” joshua leans back to look up at him. “aren’t we getting dinner later?”

he hums in thought before quickly saying no. “rain check! i think i’m going to ask y/n if she wants to go out instead. i’ve been thinking about asking her out.”

joshua is not dumb. joshua is actually very smart. he graduated top of his class from an ivy league in the U.S., he has an MBA, and he—much like you were supposed to be before siwoo upended your life—became a director at his company before 30, still on track to become the youngest senior director.

joshua is smart and he knows what jeonghan is trying to do, but his dumb face frustratingly doesn’t get the memo. before he can even fully process the words, his eyebrows are pulling down, eyes sharpening into a glare, and jaw clenching so hard, he knows jeonghan can hear his teeth grinding.

“oh, really,” he deadpans.

“yup!” he has the audacity to grin at joshua, eyes so full of mischief and mirth, he wants to kick him again and give him something to really complain about. “i’ll see myself out, don’t worry about getting up. bye joshuji! i’ll tell y/n you said hi!”

joshua scoffs as he watches him actually leave his apartment. and again, because various parts of his body seem to be missing signals from his brain that he doesn’t care, once the door clicks closed behind jeonghan, he throws himself back onto the couch mindlessly and hastily, struggling to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“why are these jeans so fucking tight,” he mumbles as his hand gets a little stuck. when he finally rips the phone out of his pocket, he briefly considers texting you but lands on calling you instead. what he’s going to say, he has no idea.

“i was just about to call you,” you once again answer without greeting him first.

“oh. hi,” he says, a little thankful for the non-greeting for once because it gives him some time to come up with an excuse for calling you other than he wanted to beat jeonghan to it. “why were you going to call?”

“because you were taking a long ass time to reply again,” you say simply. he snickers at your streak of impatience. “why are you calling?”

that wasn’t a lot of time to come up with an excuse at all, but joshua thinks “so we can make plans. i don’t feel like texting” is more than good enough.

“oh yay,” you accept the fib easily. “well, as an unemployed idiot, i am free… let me see… oh yes, all day every day, but extra free on whatever day siwoo’s parents decide to hold me hostage at dinner with them.”

joshua laughs, slowly relaxing against the couch once more. “well, how about tonight?”

“ugh, unfortunately, they do not want to have dinner tonight, but yes, i am free.”

“how about we meet to discuss your top secret plan tonight and then hang again whenever your dinner with that nightmare family is?” he suggests.

“joshua hong, my knight in shining armor,” you joke. his cheeks warm at the words. “sounds like a plan. can we meet at yours, though? i don’t want to reveal how crazy i am in a public setting. that seems too vulnerable. and i’d invite you over here but it’s probably best we don’t discuss these plans in the home of the man whose life i’d like to destroy.” joshua truly admires your way with sarcasm.

“yeah, i’ll text you my address,” he agrees. and because he’s extra irate with jeonghan for thinking he can manipulate him into becoming some kind of jealous monster, he adds: “you can come over whenever—even now if you want. i’m free all day” just in case his best friend calls you too after you hang up.

“oh great!” you say. “siwoo is out all day doing lord knows who or what and i’m done brushing the toilet with everything he owns, so i can be on my way once you send it.”

joshua smiles. “perfect.”

he knows he literally just played right into jeonghan’s game, but somehow, he still feels like he won.

it doesn’t take you long at all to get to his apartment, and when you do, he’s a little stunned to open the door and find your arms completely empty—no files full of information only the CIA would have or fat manila envelopes stuffed with plans to eviscerate your exes like he expected. instead, you stand there, hands clasped in front of you with nothing but your purse hanging on your shoulder.

“nice place,” you comment as you look around his apartment, unabashedly looking at the books on his shelves, art on the walls, even running your fingers across the strings of his guitar in the corner. “you play?”

he hums as he plops back down on his couch. “yeah, since i was young. do you?”

you laugh like he told a joke. “no. i’m not creatively gifted. it doesn’t really surprise me that you are, though.”

he’s about to ask you what makes you say that but you turn to him and clap your hands together once.

“okay! let’s do this! we have a lot of material to get through tonight.”

you throw your purse on the counter of the breakfast bar, make your way to the coffee table in front of him, take your phone out of your pocket, and sink to the floor.

“let’s start with mina; i think she’ll be much easier since she doesn’t have a family-owned empire for us to topple.”

joshua’s eyes widen. “a family-owned what for us to what?”

you wave your hand like it’s an irrelevant detail. “we’ll get into it later,” you assure him as you get to wherever you were swiping to on your phone. you read a few lines and then nod, looking up at him. “so mina is a grade A gold-digger.”

joshua huffs, leaning his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. “i’m not saying i disagree because you have very solid evidence—good job, by the way—”

“thank you!” you chirp happily, smiling widely.

“—but i am not rich enough for anyone to try digging for gold around here.”

your smile disappears, expression flattening into a glare as you pointedly look around his apartment. he follows your gaze, and yes, he sees what you see: a very spacious apartment, all of the interests and hobbies he can afford to indulge in, and furniture he hired an interior designer to curate for him. he’ll give it to you—he’s definitely a little more than just comfortable, but he’s not gold-digging material. he never even gave mina much money; he just paid for dates, and he tells you as much.

“well, i did some digging, and that’s all she would’ve really needed you to pay for. little miss busy body had multiple streams of income,” you tell him, swiping on your phone until you’re showing him screenshots of instagram profiles. the first is siwoo’s.

joshua would never admit it, but his curiosity got the best of him after overhearing your conversation with siwoo over the phone, and he found his profile after combing through the accounts you follow. the man’s face was tolerable enough, though not anything special to look at, in joshua’s opinion. he definitely thinks you can do a lot better. but for mina, though, he’s perfect. they’d make monstrous, ugly, little children.

“so here are my theories,” you announce. “correct me if you think i’m wrong with any of this since you know mina better.” he nods in agreement. “i think siwoo was target number one. she thought because he’s the heir to a sizable company, that he would be a good sugar daddy to land, but he was already taken by a smart, beautiful, kind, and insanely funny woman that turned out to be way too good for him.” he grins at you. “and because too many people have eyes on his finances—mommy, daddy… and me but only because i started snooping—”

joshua snorts, looking down at his lap when he thinks of the things you’re pushed to do when a man is making you feel insecure. it’s not fitting for you and he hates it.

“—he probably couldn’t give mina as much money as she was expecting. but she thought she’d keep him around in case there was ever an opportunity to go full-time with him,” you theorize. you turn your phone back to you, swiping to the next account. “minhyuk.”

joshua looks up and rolls his eyes when he sees an account full of shirtless photos of the man he met in mina’s apartment. “yeah. minhyuk.”

“he lives about 30 minutes from mina’s apartment in the opposite direction of siwoo, putting them about an hour away from each other,” you inform him.

“how the hell do you know that?”

you smile slyly. “i have my ways.” when he keeps staring at you, you roll your eyes. “his full name is on his instagram so i looked him up on linkedin and facebook, and the latter had photos of him moving into his apartment, okay? kids nowadays don’t care about internet safety; it’s not rocket science, shua. anyway,” you point back to the screenshot of his account, trying to redirect his attention, “that’s a healthy enough distance that she probably felt safe dating these two. on top of that, minhyuk is a pilot for korean airlines—did you know they can make up to 300 million won a year? absolutely rich enough to warrant mina’s attention.”

joshua has to admit that maybe he should reconsider what he thinks is rich versus what is comfortable if 300 million won was impressive to you.

“so mina snatches him up, knowing it won’t be much of a time commitment since he’ll constantly be flying all over the place,” you explain. “then, we have…” you swipe and sigh, shaking your head. “this guy.”

joshua narrows his eyes at the screen where he’s met with the account of a man he’s never seen before. he’s very tatted, with a kind face and a nice smile, and if his photos are any indication, he works out just as hard as minhyuk apparently does.

“and who is this?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“boyfriend number three,” you say a little uncomfortably. “jeon jungkook.”

joshua grunts but says nothing, so you continue.

“before you ask how i found him, i went through all of the people mina follows on instagram, and—”

“her profile is private,” joshua points out.

“that’s what burner accounts are for,” you respond.

“she approved aggretsuko’s request to follow her…?”

you smile. “no, silly, i followed her from my believable burner. aggretsuko is more just for being able to blindly like and follow whatever and whoever i want to. i have a fake account featuring a fake person with a fake life and fake followers. she let that one follow her.”

“i should really stop questioning you. you’re obviously very capable at this whole revenge thing.”

“yeah, the sooner you do that, the faster our conversations will be. so i went through all the accounts she follows, which thankfully aren’t many because the bitch likes having a skinny mini following to follower ratio.”

joshua shakes his head at your name-calling but fights off a smile anyway.

“i picked out every man—again, not many because she was probably mindful of them being able to see each other’s accounts—and i looked up their occupations on linkedin and if they made a good salary, they made the cut. from there, i just heavily cyberstalked them until i had no choice but to rule them out, or in jungkook’s case, until i found something incriminating.”

he doesn’t bother asking because he can see you get a kick out of explaining this to him.

“a photo of him and mina at a romantic dinner, dated a year and a half ago.”

“before me.”

you nod. “yup. jungkook is an investment banker, aka basically a bank, period, to mina. and seeing as the korean stock exchange is based in busan, he’s constantly flying between there and here for work—”

“making him another good candidate for a boyfriend since he wouldn’t demand a lot of her time.”

you nod and point at him. “exactly! which brings us to boyfriend #4.” you put your phone on the table and gesture at him. “you.”

he nods. “me.”

you tilt your head at him. “honestly, i couldn’t figure out what it was that made mina choose you.”

he scoffs. “wow.”

“no, don’t get me wrong,” you say, shaking your head calmly. “you’re a fucking catch—leagues better than any of these guys as far as i can tell.” he feels his cheeks get hot. “but that’s why i couldn’t figure it out. mina digs her claws into these rich, kinda vain, kinda power-hungry men, and then she found you, and you’re yes, rich, but also kind, sweet, caring, and all of the other good words in the dictionary.”

the heat spreading across his face grows exponentially warmer.

“therefore, i concluded that mina chose you to be her real boyfriend.”

joshua frowns.

“doesn’t it make sense? she chooses guys who are either romantically unavailable or physically unavailable, so she still has all this time on her hands. the girl is evil but she’s also human so she craved an actual partner. she chose you.”

it sounds like it should be a compliment, but joshua feels even more repulsed by the idea that three just wasn’t enough for her. she really went out of her way to find him and torment him when she had more than enough to go around.

“this is the kind of greed the bible warned us about,” joshua mutters under his breath, mostly to himself. you hear it though, and the sound of your laugh immediately makes him smile back at you.

“yeah, mina is definitely a warning sign from god.”

“wish i listened.”

you give him a smile. “eh, where’s the fun in that?”

he knows you’re just trying to make him feel better but that you probably don’t believe that. he hasn’t forgotten what you were like the first night you met—how you cried and drank so miserably. still, you somehow found it in yourself to joke around like this. it makes him stop moping.

“okay,” he says, nodding and leaning forward with renewed vigor. “so she’s really good at time management. now what?”

you laugh. “she doesn’t need to be good at time management because i learned that mina doesn’t even fucking work, bro.”

the information is jarring enough that he doesn’t fully register what you call him. “what?”

“i called the company you mentioned her working for and pretended to be a recruiter calling for a reference, and they said no one by that name has ever worked there,” you report. “i think she’s making her living off her boyfriends. which is why i said that she only needed you to pay for dates. the others are funding her whole life.”

“oh my god, i hate her,” he says plainly as he thinks of all the “overtime” she had to clock in and the “business trips” she went on and the never-ending complaints about a boss that didn’t even exist. “what kind of fucking sociopath…”

you nod solemnly. “it at least makes our job easier; all we have to do is cut her from her money source.”

“the boyfriends.”

you hum affirmatively. “you and minhyuk are already done, so we just need to get siwoo and jungkook to cut her off. but now that she’s suddenly out two streams of income, i’m sure she’ll be really laying it on thick with those two to make up for it. we’ll have to be a bit creative.”

the craziest, most intrusive thought enters joshua’s head and in the next second, it’s exiting his mouth. “mingyu returns this weekend.”

you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic but you don’t comment on it. “mingyu, the man you kept accusing me of being when i first messaged you?” you ask, sneering at the mere mention of his name. “that mingyu?”

he nods. “yup. there’s always been three of us: me, jeonghan, mingyu. he’s been traveling and he comes back in a few days.”

“okay… and what exactly does that have to do with ruining mina’s life?”

joshua grins, feeling excitement bubbling in his stomach. “kim mingyu, y/n, is rich. and not just comfortable—actually rich. as in rich enough for mina to drop all her boyfriends and quit scouting rich guys for the rest of her life if she had reason to think he was willing to fully support her.”

“does she not know what one of your best friends looks like…?” you question, making the most judgmental face joshua thinks he’s ever seen. he snickers.

“nope,” he says, popping the p. “mingyu’s been gone for the entirety of our relationship, traveling all over the place, so she never met him and his social media presence is equivalent to your aggretsuko account—for looking, not posting. all he does online is try to prank me.” he laughs more fully now, shaking his head at how perfect it is. “he’s a bored trust fund baby who knows how to act. he’s going to love doing this.”

your mouth drops open in awe, staying there for several seconds before you realize you haven’t said anything. “well,” you mutter, a smile very slowly beginning to spread across your face, “if you say he’s rich, then he must be absolutely rolling in it. and if he’s rolling in it—”

“then mina’s going to take the bait.”

you grin widely now, leaning forward onto the coffee table and shaking your head. “you, joshua hong, are so much more diabolical than you let on.”

he smirks. “learning from the best.”

“oh, she is so over.”

a/n: thanks for your patience! i'm afraid i will require more of it as i continue getting used to my new schedule LOL (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment here or send me an ask! if you requested to be on the list but weren’t tagged in this post or the reblog, it’s bc you don’t have an age indicator on your page. pls add that (and lmk that you did) if you want to be tagged next time.

part three teaser

"i really lost myself in this, y'know?" you whisper, head tilting up at the sky like maybe you'll find whatever it is you think you lost up there in the never-ending black.

joshua follows your gaze. “i don’t think you lost anything. i think it’s all still there.”

“how would you know? you didn’t know who i was before siwoo changed every aspect of me and my life,” you remind him like he needs to be reminded at all. every day, he found himself thinking about what life would be like if he had met you before siwoo had. he doesn’t need the reminder.

“i know because there’s no way any part of you that’s here with me right now is because of siwoo,” he tells you confidently. “you’re so… funny and smart and confident and reliable and cool. and you want me to believe any of that is because of siwoo?”

that gets him a small smile. “careful or i’ll start to think you have a favorable opinion of me.”

he snorts. “if you don’t already think that, i’m probably not being a good enough friend.”

joshua looks down when you press your shoulder against his. the breeze blows strands of hair into your face, and he suppresses the desire to tuck them behind your ear. “you’re a great friend. probably the greatest i’ve made in my adult life.”

he nods. “you too. all of you—every version of you before, during, and after siwoo. i like them all. even the ones i never got to meet."

"you're so..." you start but never finish.

"hmm?"

"nothing," you say. "thanks."

"for?"

"saying all of those nice things."

"pfft, don't get too big-headed about it," he says, trying to play it cool. you smile. "i just can't stand the idea that you think any part of who you are today is due to an idiot like siwoo."

you sigh and rest your head against his shoulder. he has to actively try to keep his body relaxed when you do. “did you know that the name siwoo means divine intervention?”

joshua shakes his head. “i didn’t.”

“divine intervention,” you repeat, scoffing this time. “like, yeah. he definitely intervened and derailed my whole life, that’s for sure. i have no idea where the fuck ‘divine’ comes from, though.”

“are you sure you didn’t misread it and it’s actually disturbing intervention?”

you laugh and slap his arm softly. “what does joshua mean?” you ask after a few moments of silence.

“uh,” he squints as he tries to remember what his mom told him, “salvation, i think.”

you suddenly lift your head up off his shoulder and look at him, eyes narrowing a little as you very closely and openly study his face. he feels self-conscious, a feeling he seems to have gotten used to around you.

“salvation…” it sounds like you’re testing the word on your tongue. you scan his face for something he doesn’t have the composure to ask about right now. no, his composure is nowhere to be found as your gaze rakes every centimeter of every feature of his face, taking your time like you're simultaneously trying to understand him and committing him to memory. “huh" is all you say when you're done.

“what?” he asks quietly, resisting the urge to pass a hand over his face in case there’s something on it.

“nothing,” you say, face relaxing one again. you smile a little, and even with the lessened intensity, your stare is starting to feel like it’s burning a hole right through him. “it’s just… fitting. joshua. salvation.”

and why exactly would that be fitting?

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leannswritings · 3 days ago

Text

Photobooth

Syn - request !

Word count - 1.4k

Warnings - NO PROOFREADING ! Smut ofc… public, riding, humiliation maybe?

A/N - AS PROMISED ! (if it’s been a day in ur time zone if not srry) this was fun to write lwk. Hope yall enjoy !

It had been a while since you and your boyfriend had gone out together. The schedules you each had were too different so the only time y’all seen each other was at your shared apartment for a short amount of time. Today there was finally time to have an actual date instead of hanging out around the house. As agreed, you were going clubbing, you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like partying, so it was easy to pick a spot to meet up at.

“Seongjeee !”

You called out to the man standing in the club line.

He looked up from his phone and smiled. As you walked over to him, he looked you up and down, analyzing the outfit you had on, a black tube dress. It wasn’t over the top but it was perfect.

“You look good.”

He said wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling you into a kiss.

“I know, I always do.”

You said before laughing.

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

After a couple of minutes of waiting in line you finally go into the club. It didn’t take long for you and seongje to get drinks. You had to drink before you danced, downing drinks like it was nothing. You knew you were gonna feel it later but who cares at the moment, you quickly did a love shot with seongje before grabbing him and leading him away from the bar and towards the dance floor. It was easy for you to adjust into the crowd, finding a few girls to dance with while Seongje stood close by. Seongje didn’t care if you didn’t dance with him, if he was being honest he liked watching you dance against other girls, the way y’all would hold onto each others waist while dancing, or the way they would catch what you would throw, one of his secret fantasies he would never actually ask you to do because he might get jealous later on.

After dancing for what felt like forever you made your way towards Seongje, your favorite song was playing and you weren’t gonna miss dancing to it with the one you cherished. You pressed your body against his, wrapping your arms around him, dragging your hands from the top of his back to his lower back before turning around, your back now pressed against him. As you put your hand around his neck his hand slid down to your hip, making sure to close the gap between you two, if there even was one at this point. You danced and grind against him as he closely tried to follow your rhythm. Between the alcohol and seongje’s bulge against you, you were getting hot, you were burning up.

“Wanna go?”

Seongje whispered in your ear, you could hear the smile in his voice.

You soon left the club, heading home for who knows what.

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

While y’all were walking you could see how impatient he was getting, stopping and asking you multiple times if you just wanted to go in a bathroom,alley, or whatever crazy things he was saying. Not to mention how close he held you, his hands around your waist, that sometimes went down to your butt to get a feel before you moved his hand back to your hip. The walk for him felt 10x longer than it actually was, it was only a 20 minute walk home, yet he couldn’t wait that much longer.

“Let’s go in there.”

You pointed to a photo-booth that was by a store, slightly in the alley.

It took nothing to convince him, he didn’t know if you were talking about taking pictures or fucking in the photobooth but he was down anyways, he wanted to do what you said so he would get what he wanted later on. When you both sat down in the booth you took about two photos, before you kissed him. Kissing for a picture was normal, but at that moment you knew what you were doing, you weren’t there for those photos, you were there for him. You ended up saddling him, which turned into dry riding. The make-out was messy and loud, with the amount of salvia you’ve traded in that moment if you would have taken a mouth swab the system would think you were him. When you pulled away from his face his lips were swollen and your lipstick was smeared all over his lips and chin. He wasn’t even trying to do anything prep you, he was way to excited in the moment to even think to play with you even a little. The fact yall could easily be caught behind this little curtain turned him on even more, he took no time to pull out his dick, slightly pull up your dress and move your underwear to the side and force himself into you. Causing you to yelp out, from the sudden penetration. It’s not something he usually did, but it was built up to the point he couldn’t wait anymore, and you could tell that from the grip he had on your hips as he moved you at the pace he wanted. There was no remorse on his face from what he just did, only pleasure, he watches how he bounces you onto him, liking the sight of him appearing and disappearing inside of you. He leans in to kiss you once again, this being a way to muffle your voice in the busy crowded air. Not that it helped that much anyways, your whimpers echoed against the small 4 walls of the booth. The grip on his shoulders tightened, your nails practically digging into him through his shirt. You pulled back to get a gasp of air and to speak.

“Right there..harder.”

You gasped out.

His grip will different leave a mark, but it looks like that’s not the only marks that will be left, as his hands soon went to grip your ass. You forced your face against his, probably clashing teeth from the roughness, everything was starting to blur, it was like heaven on earth. Being as impatient as he was, he came first, coating your insides. The sight of his liquid slowly seeped out of you turned him on once again, you could feel him getting hard again inside of you, the feeling was odd but not in a way you disliked. You continued to ride him, giving your all to chase that feeling of closeness. It didn’t take long for you to hit that peak, your liquid and his mixing in a disgustingly great mess. The sounds of you moving with the liquid were disgusting, but it sounded like heaven to seongje’s ears. He abused the extra liquid and your high’s sensitivity to help himself cum for the second time. He thought that shit was so funny to do, the way you couldn’t speak and the only thing you could do is squirm and whimper against him as he used you just to get off, which of course he eventually did adding on to the already huge sticky messy.

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

Leaving the photobooth had to be the most humiliating thing ever, esp for the people that saw you exit. Watching you basically tumble out while trying to wake up your legs that had went numb. Thankfully there wasn’t a mess on the seat, but that was only because all the mess was on seongje’s pants making obvious of what took place. At least from a far people wouldn’t catch on and maybe would’ve thought it was apart of the pants pattern or maybe he was just another drunk guy that spilled a drink or pissed himself. You were too into what had just happened to think about the random people would’ve saw or thought about you two, of course it’s not like seongje would care anyways. Just another way of the “I’m getting laid anytime, anywhere, and you’re not” bragging. Thank god you weren’t embarrassed when you were in public because that would’ve been horrible.

When you woke up the next morning you wanted to jump out of your bedroom window from the thought and embarrassment of what you had did last night, it was fun sure but walking with the signs of sex on you was insane. Seongje who laid next to you playing phone games thought it was funny.

“Last night you didn’t care.”

He let out a sigh to hide his laugh.

“Who would care after they got drinks, got fucked, and then got drinks again after? Oh my god I think I need to die.”

You said sarcastically while holding your head in your hands.

#weak hero class 1 #weak hero class two #weak hero class x reader #whc2 #keum seongje #geum seongje x reader #whc1 x reader #whc2 x reader #whc smut #fanfic #seongje x reader #seongje smut

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rosiebbydoll · 2 days ago

Text

The Right Time - Sukuna x Reader - Chp. 10

Chp. 9 - Chp. 10 - Chp. 11

summary: Your life was blissfully chaotic. Being a single mom and raising a daughter with a bigger attitude than yours was a challenge, but you love every second of it. You decided to move to the city to be closer to work. You’ve been at your new apartment for about three weeks now and everything has been great. Until, your annoyingly hot neighbor decided to open his mouth.

cw: female reader, modern au (no curses), 18+, enemies(ish) to friends to lovers, mechanic!sukuna x librarian!reader, found family, slow burn, fluff, explicit smut, crack, angst, toxicity, Sukuna is emotionally constipated, Nobora is readers daughter, Choso and Yuji are Sukuna’s nephews, Toji is a present father in this, LOTS of family fluff, manga spoilers?

wc: 11k

chp warning: Sukuna pov (for a bit), ANGST, death, acts of violence, talk of mental health issues, Yorozu is a big warning this chapter

a/n: have fun getting slapped in the face with Sukuna lore :D

You texted Toji to pick up Nobara and the boys so fast when Sukuna basically threw you on his bike, you didn’t even wait for a response. Your message was short and to the point: “Pick up the kids. Sukuna and I have to talk.” Sukuna just yelled at his employees to make sure to close the place down properly or they were fired.

And off you both went on his bike.

Toji read your message, cussed up a storm, and grabbed his keys. He wasn’t actually mad—just annoyed about what was going to happen between you and Sukuna. He sent you the middle finger emoji (which, honestly, you were surprised he even knew how to find) and headed out to wrangle four kids.

But you’re too busy to see any of that right now. Your arms are wrapped tightly around Sukuna, your head pressed to his back as the world blurs by. It feels strangely normal, holding onto him as he weaves through city streets and out onto the open road. The wind whips past, carrying away all the words you haven’t said.

But then again, it doesn’t feel normal at all. He hasn’t spoken to you all week. After everything with Yorozu, you didn’t know what to do or what to say. Seeing that side of him—raw, angry, vulnerable—had left you rattled. You knew there was a story behind it all, and after witnessing how Yorozu treated him, you believed Toji a little more when he said Sukuna’s past was complicated. But the silence between you two only let your mind wander to darker places.

At first, you told yourself he needed space. That was fair. Then you saw him when you were getting Nobora ready for school, and your nerves made you awkward. You’d squeaked out a shy “hi” that sounded nothing like you, and he’d just stared, unreadable.

After that, you let things drift, trusting he’d come to you when he was ready. But now, over a week later, you’re just a little pissed it took this long. Still, you can’t complain—you’re back on his bike, arms around him, heart pounding with every curve.

You used to be nervous about riding with him, but now you’re ashamed to admit how much you like the adrenaline rush, the way the world narrows to just you, him, and the road. When he finally slows and turns off onto a familiar, secluded path, your breath catches. He’s brought you back to the same place as before—the scenic overlook, where everything feels quiet and safe.

He kills the engine and helps you off, taking his time with your helmet. When he finally sees your face, he smiles, and you turn away quickly, trying to hide your blush. He starts toward the clearing, settling on a ledge that overlooks the field below with a shallow creek at the bottom. The late afternoon sun casts everything in gold, the creek glinting in the distance.

You stumble after him, heels sinking into the soft ground like a newborn deer. It’s not that you can’t walk in hells, you’re actually pretty good at it—it’s just fucking impossible to walk in heels on grass. You give up, slipping them off and letting the cool, damp earth press against your feet.

Sukuna raises a brow, chuckling. “Why would you wear heels if you can’t walk in ’em?”

You frown, plopping down next to him. “I didn’t know we were going to be in the fucking woods, Sukuna.”

You cross your arms, but you can’t help the way your eyes drift over the view. The field stretches out below, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, the creek winding its way through the trees. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It is beautiful out here, though.”

Sukuna glances at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, it is,” he says, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You turn to look at him, searching his face for answers. For a long moment, neither of you speak. You study every line, every flicker of emotion, trying to piece together the man beside you.

“So…” you start, the word hanging between you.

“So. What do you wanna know?” he asks, one brow raised, voice soft but open.

Your eyes widen and you stare at him like a deer in headlights. “Oh! I mean, I dunno—” You fumble for words, suddenly unsure how much to push.

Sukuna chuckles and leans his head back, resting against the rough bark of a tree. “Don’t be afraid to ask me, baby. I’ll be honest with ya.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the nickname. You should probably yell at him for calling you that again, but the truth is, you missed hearing it. The way his voice wraps around the word makes your stomach twist with nerves and something sweeter.

“Well, I mean… just tell me what you want me to know. If it’s a little story or a whole novel, I’ll listen.” You offer a small, encouraging smile, and he returns it, the tension between you easing just a little.

You add, “And don’t worry—I had Toji get the kids.”

Sukuna laughs, a deep, genuine sound. “Oh, fuck, he’s gonna be pissed.” The two of you share a laugh at the thought, the awkwardness fading away. Sukuna clears his throat, expression growing serious.

“Alright, this is kind of a long one,” he begins, voice steady but quiet.

You nod, settling in beside him. “And I’m listening.” He smiles, and for the first time in days, it reaches his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, gaze fixed on the creek below and begins talking…

Sukuna was always known as a “rough kid”. He carved out a reputation for doing what he wants, when he wants, and damn anyone who tries to stop him. The only person who could ever really stop him was Jin.

Jin’s four years older than Sukuna. He was a senior when Sukuna was just a freshman. Even then, Sukuna already towered over him, broad-shouldered and strong, while Jin’s lean and wiry, with just enough muscle to keep up but not enough to win any fights.

Without Jin’s glasses, it was surprisingly difficult to tell the two brothers apart—their facial features were nearly identical. That never bothered Jin, but when Sukuna was younger, he hated being mistaken for his older brother.

The confusion only stopped after Sukuna came home one day with bold black tattoos carved across his face (he got them when he was 15 by some underground tattoo artist) . Wasuke was pissed and gave Sukuna a good ass whopping for it. Jin, on the other hand, secretly thought the tattoos looked cool, though he’d never admit it to Sukuna. The last thing he wanted was to encourage his younger brother’s already oversized ego.

Jin was the golden child—responsible, patient, and always striving to do the right thing. He’s the one everyone relies on, the steady presence in the family. And Sukuna was a storm that swept through Jin’s carefully ordered life, unpredictable and impossible to ignore.

Whenever Sukuna does something reckless—making a girl cry, mouthing off to a teacher, getting caught fighting in the hallway, or doing drugs—Jin tries to set him straight. He threatens to beat Sukuna’s ass, but it never works. Sukuna fights people all the time and Jin can’t hurt a fly if he tried. Still, he never stops trying to protect his little brother, even when Sukuna makes it impossible.

After enough failed attempts at physical discipline, Jin figures out the one thing that actually gets to Sukuna. “I’m telling Dad you smoke pot if you don’t chill the hell out, Ryomen!” Jin yells, grabbing Sukuna by the ear as they stomp through the parking lot after school.

It was a cheap shot, and Jin knew it all too well. Still, he told himself, it was better than giving his dad something else to worry about. Every time Sukuna walked through the door, it was as if Wasuke was just waiting to start yelling about something—anything.

The man always seemed angry, and Jin couldn’t exactly blame him. Sukuna, on the other hand, treated it all like a game. He insisted he was just having a bit of fun, and maybe one day he’d outgrow it—that was the plan, at least, or so he liked to say.

“Don’t be a fucking bitch, Jin,” Sukuna spits back, shrugging him off as they head for Jin’s battered old car.

“You’re the one being a bitch,” Jin shoots back, exasperated. “You’ve gotten detention every day this week and I’ve covered for you every time. You need to learn to chill. You’re gonna end up in prison one day.”

Sukuna just rolls his eyes, arms crossed as he slouches in the passenger seat. He stares out the window, bored with the lecture, until something—or someone—catches his eye.

It was Yorozu, walking home with her bag slung over her shoulder, her raven hair shining in the afternoon sun. She spots him, and Sukuna’s mood shifts in an instant. He waves and winks at her, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

Jin just sighs, deadpan. “You’re hopeless.”

Sukuna frowns, genuinely confused. “What?”

“Isn’t she the reason you got in trouble?” Jin asks, raising his voice over the sound of the engine as he pulls out of the lot.

“Some punk ass was talking to her, so I punched him in the nose,” Sukuna mutters, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“And you think that’s okay?” Jin asks, sounding more like a worried parent than a brother.

Sukuna groans, slumping further into the seat. “Dude, just shut the fuck up.”

Jin sighs, the weight of responsibility clear in his voice. “I’m just worried, Ryomen. I’m graduating soon, and you’re not gonna have me to cover for you—”

“Jin, I don’t fucking need you to baby me! I’m fine on my own!” Sukuna snaps, the words coming out sharper than he means.

Jin gave Sukuna a long, searching stare, disappointment and worry carved plainly into every line of his face. The silence between them stretched, heavy and unresolved, until Jin finally reached over and flicked on the radio.But no matter how heated their arguments became, some things between them never changed.

Their routine was a silent agreement neither dared to break. They never missed a stop at the convenience store on the corner before heading home, where they’d buy a single ice pop to share. Even on the worst days, when words failed and tempers flared, they clung to this small ritual.

When they get home, Jin lies for him. Saving his ass once again.

Sukuna was always grateful for Jin’s loyalty, even if he never found the words to say it out loud. Jin hid a lot from Wasuke—more than Sukuna ever realized at the time. Somehow, Wasuke remained oblivious to most of the stuff that happened at school, unless the principal called home or he straight up heard about it. There were too many time loud ass neighbors would say they saw Sukuna drinking or hanging with people he shouldn’t and that’s when Wasuke would snap.

And Sukuna was in deep. He was the main dealer at school, selling weed to anyone who had the cash and the nerve to ask. His reputation made him both respected and feared in equal measure. Fights were a regular occurrence. He never backed down, his knuckles always raw and bruised.

Looking back now, Sukuna can see how reckless it all was—the fights, the deals, the constant defiance. But back then, it was just life—messy, wild, and spinning out of control. Through it all, Jin was always there, quietly trying to pick up the pieces Sukuna left behind, patching over the cracks before anyone else could see.

Jin graduated in June and started college that fall. Sukuna never said it out loud, but he was gutted when his brother left. At first, he spiraled—wilder than ever. He started smoking on school grounds, skipping school completely, going to parties, selling more than just weed- mainly pills and sinking deeper into trouble. His grades tanked, and the people he hung out with only dragged him further down.

People like Yorozu.

Guys were drawn to her, but she never pretended to be anything she wasn’t. She was sharp-tongued, brutally honest, and unapologetically herself, no matter who she offended. Sukuna thought he loved that about her—her fearlessness, her refusal to play by anyone’s rules but her own. At the time, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

Uraume was there too, always trailing after Sukuna. They finally started at his school his sophomore year after being homeschooled forever. They had grown up as neighbors and they have always been really close.

When Uraume started school, Sukuna promised their parents he’d look out for them. He felt like an older sibling, teaching Uraume how to fight, how to stand up for themselves, never letting anyone mess with them. He even made them wait outside when he was selling drugs. Uraume always looked up to Sukuna, followed him everywhere, and they couldn’t stand Yorozu.

“So, are you a girl or what?” Yorozu asked one afternoon, sitting under the bridge as they waited for Sukuna to come back. Uraume ignored her, tossing rocks into the creek, jaw set tight.

Yorozu rolled her eyes, pulled out a blunt she’d rolled earlier, and lit up. “Want a hit?” she asked, exhaling smoke.

Uraume shook their head. Then, footsteps—Sukuna’s. He just got back from a deal. He walked over, ruffled Uraume’s hair. “Hey, Yoro, I’m gonna take them home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled, genuine.

Yorozu frowned, standing up. “You’re not gonna walk me home?”

He shrugged. “You can walk with us. I’ll drop them off first and—”

She stomped past, shoving Sukuna with her shoulder. “Don’t bother.”

They watch her walk off, “I don’t like her.” Uruame says and stares off.

Sukuna sighs, “Come on, kid.”

He remembered that day vividly because it was his sixteenth birthday. Yorozu didn’t wish him a happy birthday, not once. He acted like he didn’t care, but it stung. The girl he was falling for didn’t even notice or try to care.

He gave her money from his drug deals, did her history homework (because being the nerd that he was, he actually loved history) and gave her weed whenever she wanted. All she gave in return were the occasional make out sessions. Not that he was complaining—he was a horny teenager—but still.

When he got home with Uraume, their parents, Wasuke, and Jin were waiting, surprising him with cake. They celebrated, laughed, and for a moment, Sukuna felt like a normal kid. He was just happy to see Jin, who’d been so busy at college.

After Uraume and their parents left, Jin pulled Sukuna aside. “I got a birthday present for you,” he said, grinning.

“Why?” Sukuna asked, suspicious. Wasuke smacked him on the back of the head. “Be grateful, damn it.”

Sukuna winced, followed Jin to the garage—and stopped dead in his tracks. There it was, a black Kawasaki. His black Kawasaki that his still has today. The one he’d been talking about since he was nine. He’d shown Jin pictures in magazines, pointed out every bike for sale they ever passed. Now it was real.

He wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Jin clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it’s not a car, but Dad and I talked. Once you get your license, she’s yours.”

Sukuna was speechless, terrified a tear might escape if he looked at his brother or dad in the eye. Instead, he just hugged Jin tight.

Jin laughed, hugging him back. “Happy birthday, bud.”

And you better believe Sukuna got his license within a week. His dad bought him a helmet and gloves, and suddenly, he had a new obsession. The bike became his whole personality—he spent hours working on it, cleaning it. He even started mowing lawns to save up for gear and new parts.

The freedom it gave him was addictive. Whenever he had the chance hit the road, eager to chase down new routes and hidden backroads. There was a raw thrill in discovering stretches of pavement that felt untouched, like they were made just for him. But what he loved most was the rush—the surge of adrenaline when he twisted the throttle on a long, open stretch, the engine roaring beneath him, the wind whipping past, and the world blurring at the edges.

That bike changed everything. Once he ran out of his supplies, he stopped selling—he couldn’t drive high anyway, and he didn’t have time for that crowd anymore. He tried to keep his grades at least at a C. He was busy, focused, and for the first time, he felt like he was getting his shit together.

Yorozu hated it. She hated how it devoured all his attention. The bitterness festered inside her, growing heavier with every ride he took. She wanted his eyes on her. So, in a desperate bid to reclaim his attention, she made her move.

After school she saw Sukuna standing around a crowd of people. So, she walked right in front of him, with all the calculated spite she could muster, and locked lips with some random guy. It was reckless, it was cruel, and she hoped it would hurt him just as much as she was hurting.

It worked exactly as she’d hoped—Sukuna’s eyes darkened with fury the moment he saw her. Without a second thought, he stormed over and landed a solid punch square on the stranger’s jaw, sending the guy stumbling back. Then, with a rough grip, he yanked Yorozu away from the scene, his anger radiating off him in waves.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

She shrugged, pouting. “Oh, look who decided to talk to me.”

He was frustrated. He’d been doing so well—no fights, better grades, trying to stay out of trouble for his dad and for Uraume. “Yoro, I’ve been busy. You know that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know I’m not important anyway.” She started to cry, and Sukuna’s resolve crumbled. He thought he liked her—at least, he didn’t want to see her cry.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take you on a date this Friday. With the money I got from mowing, okay?”

She squealed, kissed him, and walked off, satisfied.

Sukuna meant it. He genuinely wanted to take her out, to show her he cared, to prove to himself—and maybe to her—that he was changing. But then, one crisp morning before school, he ran into his old plug by chance. They didn’t have any bad blood between them, so Sukuna stopped to talk.

“That’s a nice bike,” the guy said, nodding appreciatively.

“Yeah,” Sukuna replied with a grin, running a hand over the handlebars. “She’s my baby.”

They stood there for a few minutes, shooting the shit, catching up on the usual. Then, out of nowhere, the guy said something that knocked the wind out of Sukuna’s chest.

“So, why’d you and Yorozu split? She’s probably the best piece of ass I’ve had in a while.”

Sukuna’s brow furrowed, and he turned to face him, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

The guy shrugged casually. “She came to me about a month ago, crying, saying you were done with her.”

Sukuna just nodded, swallowing hard, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn’t get dragged into another fight over Yorozu—especially not over her hooking up with someone else. That would be pathetic. This guy wasn’t worth it, and neither was she.

“We’ve been fucking for a while now,” the guy added, smirking. “But we cool, right?”

Sukuna forced a weak smile, masking the sting behind his eyes. “Oh yeah, man, don’t worry. I dropped that bitch because she’s got crabs. She’s dirty as hell.”

It was a lie. Yorozu was actually super clean. She’d grown up in a drug house, so she always tried to keep her image spotless. And they haven’t even fucked yet. But Sukuna didn’t give a damn.

He didn’t know what was funnier—the look on the guy’s face when he said it, or Yorozu’s meltdown when she found out later.

After that, Sukuna knew he could never have anything real with Yorozu. But he never left her. Junior year, they hung around each other just the same—still toxic as ever. They fought, made up, and eventually started fucking. Whenever they could.

Yeah, Ryomen Sukuna was a virgin until he was seventeen—if he said otherwise, he was lying. And Uraume will call him out, since they had the unfortunate timing of walking in on Sukuna and Yorozu too many times.

Something else happened to Sukuna when he was seventeen—he became an uncle.

Wasuke and Sukuna had never really worried about Jin when it came to succeeding. Jin always had his act together, always landed on his feet. But when it came to girls? That was another story. Wasuke, for all his gruff wisdom, had been a self-proclaimed manwhore in his day—a respectful one, he liked to add, but still a manwhore. Sukuna, for his part, took out his stress on Yorozu whenever he could, and when that didn’t cut it, he’d make out with other girls just to make Yorozu jealous. It was a mess, but at least he was honest about it.

Jin, though? Jin never talked about his love life. Wasuke used to joke that his eldest would be alone forever, and Sukuna would tease Jin mercilessly, calling him a super virgin until Jin would threaten to blackmail him with all the dirt he had on Sukuna’s own escapades. That usually shut him up.

So, imagine their surprise when Jin showed up at home one evening with a woman who was very obviously pregnant. Sukuna would never forget the look on Wasuke’s face—he honestly thought he was going to have to revive his dad from a heart attack right there in the kitchen.

Jin was still in college at the time, juggling classes and a paid internship at an elite sales company. That’s where he met Kaori. She was sweet—almost too sweet for Sukuna’s taste—but she fit in with the family better than he expected. She had a way of making everyone feel at ease, even Wasuke, who was a grumpy asshole.

Before long, Kaori gave birth to Choso. Sukuna remembered the first time he held the little brat—Choso was tiny, red-faced, and screaming his head off. Sukuna felt something strange twist in his chest, something warm and terrifying. He almost cried right there in the hospital, but his ego made him shove the baby back into Jin’s arms and escape to the bathroom.

No way was he going to cry over some kid, especially not in front of his brother.

Around that time, Sukuna also landed a job at the local auto shop. He started out working after school on Wednesdays and weekends. The place smelled like oil and old coffee, and his boss was a grumpy old man with a permanent grease stain on his shirt, but Sukuna loved it. The work was honest, the kind that left his hands sore and his mind clear. His boss taught him everything—how to change a tire, how to rebuild an engine, how to spot a lie in a customer’s story.

Work became his sanctuary. If he wasn’t with his family or Uraume, he was with Yorozu, and lately, that felt more like a chore than anything else. She always needed attention, always wanted more than he could give. The auto shop gave him a break from all of that, even if he came home exhausted and covered in grease. For the first time, he felt like he was building something of his own—something that didn’t depend on anyone else’s chaos but his own.

Another year passed. Sukuna was about to graduate. His grades weren’t bad at all—not good enough for scholarships, but something to brag about considering where he’d started. Yorozu, on the other hand, only managed to graduate because she paid people to do her homework or bribed them with drugs. She would never leave that life behind.

Sukuna let her play that game alone. He’d already decided he was going to slowly slip out of her life after graduation. He didn’t know what his future held, but he was determined to keep working, to keep trying, until he figured it out.

At his graduation, he could swear he heard Jin and Wasuke cheering the loudest out of the entire crowd. They were so proud of him—especially Jin. Sukuna was more in disbelief than anything else. He hadn’t really believed he’d make it this far.

Later that evening, Wasuke hosted a small graduation party at the house. The kitchen was packed with family, friends, and neighbors. Laughter and the smell of grilled food filled the air. Everyone was there—except Yorozu.

Wasuke had made it clear she wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t stupid. As years passed he knew what his son had been up to, but he had one rule: Yorozu was not allowed at the house. Sukuna didn’t argue. He understood, even if it made things complicated.

Yorozu, of course, didn’t take that well. She’d noticed how quickly Sukuna left after the ceremony, and she’d overheard Uraume’s parents mention a graduation party at his place. That was all it took for her to see red.

She was angry that Sukuna didn’t want to spend time with her. They should be celebrating together. It’s not like her alcoholic, abusive father would do anything for her. So, she decided if she wasn’t going to have a good time, then no one was.

She walked to Sukuna’s house in her cap and gown, mascara streaking down her face from fresh tears. She saw all the cars parked out front and heard the happy murmur of the party inside.

She stood there for a moment, letting her anger and heartbreak simmer. Then she spotted Sukuna’s shiny black bike parked under the carport—his precious bike, the one he always chose over her, the one he’d never let her ride. She hated that bike. Everything changed when he got that stupid fucking thing.

Without thinking, Yorozu grabbed a handful of loose gravel and hurled it at the bike. The pebbles barely left a mark, which only made her angrier. She stormed over and shoved the bike, sending it crashing onto its side with a sickening thud. Fueled by rage, she started kicking, breaking whatever she could—smashing the mirrors, denting the metal, ripping the leather seat with her sharp nails.

Suddenly, she was yanked away from her tantrum and shoved to the ground. Sukuna stood over her, his face twisted in fury.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled, voice echoing across the yard.

Yorozu gasped, realizing that everyone from the party was now outside, staring at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me—” she started, but Sukuna cut her off, his voice rising even higher.

“What the fuck is your problem? Are you fucking stupid or what?” He was in her face, shaking with anger, when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

Jin was there, calm but firm. “C’mon, Ryomen.” He turned to Yorozu. “We called your dad. He’s on his way.

“Not happening. I’m fucking leaving!” Yorozu spat, scrambling to her feet and running down the road, her gown flapping behind her.

Wasuke sighed, watching her go. “He’ll see her,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Sukuna stared at his battered bike, fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to let out all the frustration and heartbreak. But he just stood there, jaw tight, trying to hold it together.

Jin stepped up beside him, surveying the damage. “Hey, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said quietly.

Sukuna let out a shaky sigh, then managed a small, grateful smile.

After that day, Sukuna and Yorozu didn’t speak. If they saw each other in public, they acted like strangers. In a way, it was sad—but Sukuna sometimes wanted to thank her for breaking his bike. Because of her, he got to spend the entire summer with Jin.

Jin had graduated college by then he lived only thirty minutes away. He got a fancy job at the same place he interned. But he made it a point to visit as often as he could, and together, they set about repairing the bike. The garage became their workshop, filled with the scent of oil and the clatter of tools.

They’d spend hours side by side—Jin handing Sukuna a wrench, Sukuna cursing at stubborn bolts, both of them laughing at old stories and inside jokes. Sometimes Wasuke would wander in, offering unsolicited advice or just watching them work, pride shining in his eyes.

Piece by piece, they restored the bike. They both learned how to fix a bent rim, how to patch torn leather, how to buff out scratches until the paint gleamed again.

Then one night, as they were replacing a headlight on his bike, Jin tossed Sukuna a beer. Sukuna stared at his brother for a moment, suspicion flickering in his eyes—he thought it might be a trap.

Jin laughed, breaking the tension. “We’re celebrating.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Celebrating what?”

Jin’s smile grew wide, full of pride and excitement. “Kaori’s pregnant!”

Sukuna’s face softened into a genuine smile. “Congrats, man! You’ve been keeping busy.”

Jin frowned slightly, but they both raised their beers in a toast. As they clinked bottles, Sukuna felt a rare sense of peace settle over him. He was happy. He had his brother, his dad was healthy, and he had an awesome little nephew—and now another on the way.

A few months later, Sukuna turned nineteen. To celebrate, he, Jin, and their dad went out to dinner. The three of them were a handful, talking and laughing for hours. Sukuna had been so busy with work, saving up for whatever big plan he was cooking up, so he was genuinely glad to spend some time with his family.

After dinner, Sukuna planned to buy a few scratchers and take a ride before calling it a night. As he stood at the counter checking out, a familiar voice cut through the quiet hum of the store.

“Well, hey stranger,” the voice purred, sweet but sharp like venom.

“Oh, hey Yoro,” Sukuna replied, the nickname so ingrained it was impossible to forget.

She gave him a poisonous smile, and they talked for a few minutes. She told him she was attending community college and living with her aunt now. Sukuna was glad to hear it—he knew her dad was a piece of shit.

He kept his updates short and vague, not wanting to get too attached or reveal too much. He was doing too good with her not being in his life and he couldn’t slip up, not now.

“Well, I’ll see you around?” she purred again

“See you around, Yoro,” he said with a smile, putting on his helmet and riding off.

During the drive, he barely thought about her. It was strange how long it had been since they’d seen each other. He didn’t want to risk ruining the good things he had going, so he planned to avoid her as much as possible.

That plan worked—at least for a little while. They ran into each other again, talked a bit, and by the third time, they made a deal. If they were bored and horny, they’d hook up. No strings attached.

Sukuna made sure to emphasize that.

He stayed focused on his vision—whatever that might be—and didn’t let her distract him. Yorozu was just a casual fuck, a way to get off without complications. He didn’t have feelings for her anymore. Sure, he didn’t want to see her hurt, but she was just someone he knew, someone he was used to.

“You’re really messing with her again?” Jin frowned as they drove to the hospital. Kaori was at work when her water broke. Jin hadn’t gotten the call because he was stuck in a meeting and only saw it thirty minutes later. Now, he and Sukuna were speeding down the interstate.

“We just fuck,” Sukuna sighed.

“How classy,” Jin muttered sarcastically.

Sukuna flipped him off. “It’s not like I’m gonna marry her or anything.”

Jin sighed dramatically. “Oh god, please don’t. That would kill Dad. He’d actually keel over and die.” They both burst into laughter.

After the laughter died down, Jin started, “Speaking of marriage—”

Sukuna’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to ask Kaori to marry me next month.”

Sukuna chuckled and patted his brother’s shoulder. “Only took her having two babies for you to ask, huh?”

They laughed and bickered all the way to the hospital. When they arrived, Kaori was already dilated to nine centimeters, screaming for Jin. Like the good man he was, Jin profusely apologized for being late and stayed by her side through the rest of the labor.

Outside the waiting room, Sukuna, Wasuke, and little Choso sat together on a row of chairs. Choso swung his legs restlessly, his sneakers thumping against the metal frame, mumbling a stream of words that Sukuna could only half decipher. Wasuke, meanwhile, had dozed off, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open, snoring softly.

Eventually, Choso couldn’t sit still any longer. He hopped off his chair and began running up and down the hallway, his laughter echoing off the sterile walls as he tried to burn off his excess energy. Sukuna watched him dart back and forth, a small smile tugging at his lips. Honestly, it was pretty entertaining—better than anything else this dreary hospital could offer.

Somehow, Choso had become Sukuna’s little best friend. Whenever he had the chance, Sukuna would take him to the corner shop for snacks, or to the park to chase pigeons and climb on the jungle gym. Once, he’d even tried to give Choso a ride on his bike, but Kaori and Jin had freaked out the moment they found out.

They threatened Sukuna that if he didn’t stop putting Choso on the bike, they wouldn’t let him watch over the kid anymore. Sukuna called them lame and told them to back off, but in the end, he decided it was easier to just keep Choso off the bike.

At least, not until he was older.

About an hour later, Jin emerged with teary eyes. “You guys ready to meet Yuji?”

Choso immediately clapped and jumped up and down. His parents had been talking about him becoming a big brother forever, and now it was finally happening. Sukuna nodded and nudged Wasuke awake, who jolted upright so fast acting like he wasn’t just drooling all over himself.

When Sukuna met Yuji for the first time, it was different from when he’d first held Choso. Yuji wasn’t crying—just wide eyed and impossibly alert for a newborn, his tiny head turning as if he were already trying to take in the world. Sukuna could have sworn the baby smiled at him, a fleeting expression that made his heart ache in ways he didn’t know it could.

He was in love instantly.

What made it even more surreal was how much the baby resembled him. Sure, everyone always said Jin and Sukuna looked like twins, but Yuji—he looked just like Sukuna had as a baby. There was no question Yuji was Jin’s son, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Choso was obsessed with his little brother from the start. He’d hold Yuji every chance he got, chattering about cartoons, bugs, or whatever popped into his head. Watching Jin with his two sons, Sukuna sometimes had to look away to blink back tears.

His brother had built a life for himself—a career, a beautiful family. He was a good man, and Sukuna knew how lucky he was to have him. He tried to cherish every moment, holding them close like treasures he was afraid to lose.

A month passed in a blur. Sukuna worked long hours at the shop, and had been so busy helping with Jin’s big secret. Tonight, Jin was finally going to propose to Kaori at a nice restaurant. Sukuna had made the reservation himself, double-checking every detail. It was the least he could do for his brother, and honestly, it was about time. Jin and Kaori had been together forever and already had two kids. Sukuna was excited to see them finally make it official.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s arrangement with Yorozu continued, casual and detached. They didn’t hang out. If she needed something and it wasn’t out of his way, he’d help, but that was it. It felt transactional, but it filled a gap in both their lives. He didn’t want to lose that, not now.

But today was different. Yorozu called the shop—something she never did, she knew not to because Sukuna would go off on her. The first time, Sukuna’s boss answered, and Sukuna told him to say he was busy. After the sixth call, though, Sukuna finally picked up, more annoyed than anything.

“What, Yorozu?” he grumbled.

“I need to borrow your car,” she said bluntly.

Sukuna hesitated. He had his bike, but Jin had given him his old junker car after upgrading, and Sukuna kept it around for rainy days and not wanting to put so much wear and tear on his bike. It was just luck that he had driven it to work today. He couldn’t imagine why Yorozu needed it—she hadn't asked for a big favor in a while.

“Why?”

She sighed, the fatigue in her voice unmistakable. “I have to get everything out of my dad’s house. When I moved out, I left most of my stuff. He’s getting evicted, so I need to grab my things. I’d rather not carry it all and walk.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh. She never asked for something like this, and he knew her relationship with her dad was a mess. He’d rather let her drive that old car than walk. They were on “good terms” these days, he didn’t want to lose that, so against his better judgment, he agreed.

“Yeah, but I need it back before five. I’ve got family plans tonight.”

Yorozu scoffed. “I will.”

It sounded half hearted, but an hour later, she showed up at the shop. Sukuna handed her the keys, warning her not to mess with anything. If she broke something, she’d never use the car again. She just smiled sweetly and left.

After she was gone, Sukuna got back to work. The day was busy—too many cars, too many customers who thought they knew more than him because he was only nineteen. He proved them wrong, though. He always did.

As the afternoon wore on, five o’clock came and went. Dinner was at 7:00, and Sukuna wanted to get home, change, and be ready on time. By 5:30, when Yorozu still hadn’t answered his calls, he gave up and called Jin, furious at himself for letting his guard down.

This is what he got for trying to be nice. For trusting someone, even a little.

It was his own dumbass fault.

So, he swallowed his pride and called Jin, expecting an earful.

“Hey, Ryomen! I’m getting ready now, gotta pick up Kaori, Dad’s got the boys—”

“I need a ride,” Sukuna said, defeated.

“What’s wrong?” Jin asked, instantly alert.

“I let Yorozu use my car—”

“Are you serious right now?” Jin sighed.

“Can you just come get me, please?” Sukuna huffed.

“I gotta stop and get Kaori, then I’ll be on my way. Just so you know, you’re getting a lecture about this tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever. See you when you get here. Love you.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle. “Love you too, Ryomen. I’ll be there soon.”

Sukuna had never said that to Jin before. They showed it in their actions, never in words. It felt strange, but he was glad he’d said it.

He told his boss he’d close up the shop since he had to wait anyway. He busied himself with shutting everything down, but as the minutes ticked by, a cold anxiety crept in. It’d been over an hour. Jin never took this long. He called Jin sixteen times.

No answer.

That had never happened. Jin always answered on the first ring.

A sick feeling twisted in Sukuna’s gut. That heavy, sinking dread—the kind you get right before the world falls apart.

Then the phone rang. It was his dad.

When Sukuna talked about that call later, he said it felt like a bullet tearing through his chest.

“Jin got in a car accident. it doesn't look too good.”

Wasuke didn’t have time to say anything else. Sukuna just started running. He didn’t know where—maybe he’d find the accident, maybe he’d run into Yorozu or his dad with the boys. He just needed to move, to find someone, to do something before he exploded.

And then, as if fate had led him there, he saw it. A twisted pile of cars, the aftermath of some freak accident. Jin’s silver car was crushed in the middle of it all. All thanks to a drunk driver.

He stood frozen, watching as ambulances, firefighters, and police swarmed the scene, pulling bodies from the wreckage. It was chaos—blood, metal, screams, crying children.

Sukuna knew, right then and there.

As he watched the nightmare unfold, a single tear slipped down his cheek. It felt like a part of him was dying—or already had.

Kaori was pronounced dead at the scene. Jin was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, but the EMTs and police could only offer hollow reassurances to Wasuke and Sukuna. There was no real hope left—not when you saw the look in their eyes, not when you heard the silence that followed the sirens.

The hospital was a blur of harsh lights, antiseptic smells, and the low hum of grief. Sukuna and his father sat numbly in the waiting room, holding Choso and Yuji close. Kaori’s parents sat nearby, their faces pale and hollow with shock. They’d always liked Jin, had hoped for a miracle, but now their daughter was gone, and they didn’t know how to move forward.

Doctors came and went, updating them on Jin’s emergency surgeries. Each time, their words grew more desperate, less hopeful. About an hour later, Jin was pronounced dead. It was as if the world stopped turning. Yuji started crying, as if he understood the loss, and Sukuna rocked him gently, trying to soothe him through his own tears.

Wasuke walked outside to smoke—a habit he’d never had before, but grief makes strangers of us all. Kaori’s parents broke down again, their sobs echoing through the sterile hallways. Choso, still too young to really understand, clung to Sukuna, wide-eyed and silent.

Sukuna has hated hospitals ever since that night.

The next day, Sukuna stayed with the boys while Wasuke and Kaori’s parents made funeral arrangements. He and Kaori’s parents had never been close, but now they were bound by a terrible, shared grief—a bond neither of them had wanted. They moved through the funeral home like ghosts, speaking in whispers, their eyes red and raw.

Sukuna’s mind was blank, numb. He didn’t know what to think, what to do. Yorozu still hadn’t brought his car back, but he didn’t care. She could keep it. He didn’t want to see anything that reminded him of his brother. But he had no choice—every time he looked at Choso and Yuji, he saw Jin’s smile, Kaori’s eyes. Two perfect little boys, now orphaned in a single night.

How unfair was it, Sukuna thought, that both of their parents were taken from them at once? What kind of world did that to children?

He finally put the boys down for a nap and was about to try to sleep himself when he heard the sound of a familiar engine outside.

Yorozu pulled up and ran out of the car, frantic and disheveled. “I am so sorry—”

“Jin’s dead,” Sukuna said, his voice flat and cold.

Yorozu’s eyes widened. “What?”

“He got into a car accident last night. He was on his way to pick me up because you never brought back my car.”

“Sukuna, I said I was—”

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice icy.

She hesitated, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think I’d be that long. I stopped by my plug’s house and lost track of time.”

“I thought you had to move shit out of your dad’s?” He asks coldly.

“I did, but it didn’t take that long and I thought I had time-“ she stops talking when she realizes there’s no point.

Sukuna’s face went blank. He walked up to her, ripped the keys from her hand, and turned away. There was nothing left to say. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to look at himself. He should have said no, should have kept his boundaries. Now, whatever trust he’d rebuilt with Yorozu was gone—and so was Jin.

“Sukuna—”

“His funeral will be this week,” he said quietly, then walked back into the house, closing the door behind him.

Yorozu stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, before turning and walking away. Uraume watched her leave from the window. Once Yorozu was out of sight, they came inside to check on Sukuna.

Sukuna was so numb—so angry, so lost—that he just crawled into bed and slept. It was easier that way. In sleep, he didn’t have to think or feel. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could dream of Jin alive and healthy, laughing like he used to.

Uraume let him sleep all day, quietly caring for the boys—well, for Choso, at least. Yuji slept most of the time because he was only a month and half old. He only woke up to fed or cry for his diaper to be changed. They had to learn quickly how to bottle feed Yuji. Thank goodness he was an easy baby.

This was also the day Uraume discovered they actually liked to cook. They decided to make homemade soup with ingredients they found in the kitchen. When Sukuna finally woke, Uraume forced him to eat something. He’d always remember that small act of kindness. The food was actually good, and for a brief moment, he almost felt human again.

But nothing could fill the hole Jin and Kaori left behind. The house was too quiet, the future too uncertain. Sukuna sat in the dark, holding the boys, listening to their soft breaths, and wondered how he was supposed to go on.

The silence pressed in on him, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the occasional whimper from Yuji or the restless sighs of Choso in his sleep. Every shadow in the house seemed longer, every memory sharper and more painful.

That Friday was Jin’s funeral. Sukuna went with his dad to pick out the casket and flower arrangements. They knew it would be a big funeral—Jin was loved by so many, his presence woven into the lives of friends, coworkers, and neighbors. Sukuna dreaded it, the thought of facing all those people, of seeing Jin’s absence reflected in every tear-stained face.

Kaori’s parents decided to cremate her. Her body had been too badly damaged, and they didn’t want to remember her that way. The first car had struck directly on her side. They told Wasuke they’d give him some of her ashes to place in Jin’s casket, so a piece of her would be with him forever. They’d been excited for Jin to propose—he’d asked for their blessing, and they’d happily given it. He was everything they wanted for their daughter—kind, hardworking, devoted.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair.

At the funeral, Sukuna wore an all black suit, just like his dad. He dressed the boys in little black suits too, and made sure to bring his sunglasses—not to hide, but to shield himself from the endless, pitying stares as he cried.

During the service, he sat beside his father, Yuji sleeping on his shoulder, Choso leaning against his side. Sukuna had never seen his dad cry before, but now he watched the tears slip silently down Wasuke’s face.

Jin’s mother sat beside Wasuke, her face drawn and pale, her eyes hollow with grief. She clung tightly to Wasuke’s hand as people took turns giving speeches and soft music played in the background. It was strange—almost surreal—to see them like this, so small and fragile beneath the weight of sorrow. Sukuna watched them, feeling a heaviness in his own chest. He understood, at least as much as he could.

“You’re not supposed to bury your kids,” Wasuke whispered, his voice strained and broken, barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd. The words hung in the air, raw and aching. Sukuna reached over and patted his father’s leg, offering what little comfort he could as they watched the casket slowly lower into the earth. The finality of it settled over them, cold and unrelenting.

As Sukuna watched his brother’s body sink lower into the earth, something unfamiliar claws at his chest. Regret—raw, suffocating, relentless—crashed over him in a way he’s never known. It’s like being dragged beneath a black tide, unable to fight, unable to breathe.

He wishes—God, he wished—he’d told Jin thank you. Thank you for always standing up for him, for covering his lies without hesitation, for being the kind of brother Sukuna never deserved. The memory of Jin’s quiet loyalty twists the knife deeper. Sukuna can barely stand to remember all those times he brushed his brother off, choosing parties, chaos, and Yorozu’s reckless company over the one person who truly cared for him.

The tears spill relentlessly beneath his sunglasses, hot and unyielding, carving silent paths down his face. There’s no point in trying to hide them anymore—no mask strong enough to hold back this flood. He wishes, with a desperate ache, that he could be buried alongside his brother, swallowed by the earth and erased from the world. He’s never known this feeling before—the raw, hollow urge to disappear, to stop existing.

How is he supposed to go on without Jin? Of course, he understood logically that his brother was gone, but the truth didn’t truly sink in until the crushing realization hit him like a blow. He would never see Jin again. Never hear that infectious laugh that used to cut through the darkest moments. Never get yelled at or teased again.

What a fool he’d been. What a selfish, blind idiot. Each memory is a stone tied to his ankles, pulling him down, down, down. He wants to scream, to claw at the dirt, to turn back time and fix everything, but it’s too late. Jin is gone, and Sukuna is left with nothing but the unbearable weight of his own failures. He can’t stop replaying every missed chance, every careless word, every moment he took for granted. The regret is endless, a spiral with no bottom, and for the first time, Sukuna wonders if he’ll ever escape it.

When it was time, Sukuna took Choso’s hand and led him to the grave. He scooped up a handful of dirt, and Choso did the same, both tossing it onto the casket below. The sound of dirt hitting wood was final and cruel. Sukuna picked up Choso, who didn’t fully understand, but mimicked the sadness in the air. The little boy laid his head on Sukuna’s shoulder, and Sukuna rubbed his back, whispering, “It’s okay. I got you, buddy. Forever.” He held Choso tight as they returned to Wasuke, who was cradling baby Yuji—Yuji, who was babbling and smiling, too young to know what he’d lost.

Sukuna was so caught up in the funeral, he barely noticed Yorozu’s absence. She and Jin had never gotten along, but what stung was the realization that if she’d ever truly cared for Sukuna, she would have been there for him. In that moment, Sukuna understood that she’d only ever used him, and now he would do the same. No more favors. Only use her when he wanted. It was only fair.

Months passed in a haze. Sukuna and Wasuke decided to raise the boys together. Kaori’s parents visited when they could, but they were broken—Kaori had been their only child, and losing her left them adrift. Sukuna finally had a plan. For so long, he’d drifted through life, unsure of his purpose. Now, he knew, he would save every penny, work every hour, do whatever it took to give Choso and Yuji a good life. His father was too old to start raising more babies, but he would help as much as he could.

Jin’s mother would stop by sporadically and check on the boys. Her and Wasuke would talk a lot, keeping each other company. She distracted herself with work. She traveled a lot as time went on. Sukuna always wondered how she felt. He wishes he could’ve talked to her more.

Death brought heartache and wounds that would never heal. It also brought practical problems—money, paperwork, endless decisions. Jin had life insurance, so the funeral and immediate expenses were covered, and Wasuke and Sukuna received a hefty check. Wasuke worried Sukuna would spiral, spend it all on drugs or alcohol, but he couldn’t blame him. Grief made you reckless.

But Sukuna surprised everyone. He bought the shop from the greasy old man he’d worked for, pouring his time and energy into the business. It kept him busy, kept him from drowning. The workers who’d known him stayed loyal, helping Sukuna keep the place running. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt a little better. Not whole—never whole again—but at least he was moving forward, helping his dad, raising the boys, clawing his way out of the darkness.

Uraume visited when they could, having gone to culinary school and started traveling. Whenever they were in town, they cooked for Sukuna and the boys, spending time with him, making sure he was okay. Sukuna was grateful for it, for the warmth and care, for the reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Life settled into a rhythm. Work, home, the boys, his dad. They talked about Jin often, telling stories, keeping his memory alive. They never wanted to forget him, never wanted the boys to forget their father’s love.

One night, Sukuna decided to go to the bar. He felt stable, maybe even a little hopeful. He just wanted to have a drink, maybe flirt, maybe take someone home. His dad offered to watch the boys so Sukuna could have a night to himself.

But fate had other plans.

Yorozu was there. Isn’t this the worse case of Deja vu?

She was like a shadow he couldn’t outrun, always finding her way back into his life. He tried to ignore her, but she saw him, and her words—sweet and venomous—slipped into his mind, filling the cracks left by grief. He was weak, desperate for comfort, for anything that might make him feel alive again.

He hated himself for it, but he let her in. He always did. She never offered sympathy for his loss, never really cared about Jin. She just wanted to fill her own emptiness, and Sukuna let her, because he didn’t know how to say no.

Once upon a time Sukuna had wished things could have been different. In another life, maybe he could have loved Yorozu the way she needed, and maybe she could have been the right person for him. He’d wanted that, once. She was wild and fun, always up for anything. But he saw too much of himself in her, and it disgusted him. She was lost, angry, unwilling to change, always blaming him for her pain.

They went on like that until he met you. You were the light at the end of a tunnel he’d been stumbling through for years. With you, he finally saw what he’d been missing—real connection, real hope. Yorozu had always been a distraction, a way to numb the pain, but it never lasted. She never cared about his brother, never cared about his wounds. They were just hollow, broken people, using each other to fill the void.

He is slowly healing. Letting his life consume him in the best way possible. Letting you consume him as you both got to know each other. But there would always be that wound that would never heal and it haunts him in waves.

Some nights, when the apartment is quiet and the boys are asleep, Sukuna sits alone and lets himself grieve. He misses Jin’s laugh, Kaori’s smile, the family they could have been. He wonders if the ache will ever fade, if he’ll ever feel whole again. But for now, he keeps going—because that’s what Jin would have wanted, and because two little boys are counting on him to be strong, even when he feels anything but.

You stare at Sukuna for a long moment, his profile sharp against the sudden, vivid colors of the late afternoon sky. He’s staring off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts, while you remain caught in the echo of his story. The sun is sinking now, but neither of you noticed it slipping away—the world outside his words had faded for a while.

You realize you started crying while he was talking. He didn’t want to make you sad. He just wanted you to understand, even a little, to glimpse the pain and the love that shaped him. He’s not asking for sympathy, he’s showing you that everyone carries a past, that every life is a story of loss and survival.

“I’m so sorry, Sukuna,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t notice until you spoke, but while he told his story, his hand had found yours, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles over your skin. It’s a quiet comfort, a way to ease the pain as he lets it all out.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replies, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Thanks for listening.”

Silence settles between you again, thick with emotion. Sukuna finally turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m sorry you had to deal with Yorozu’s bullshit,” he says, regret lacing his words.

You sigh, shaking your head. “And you don’t have to be sorry for her. I’m sorry things never worked out between you.”

He laughs at that, a low, rough sound. “Oh, I’m not. We’re terrible for each other.”

You giggle just a little and nod. “Yeah, I can tell.”

You both turn back to watch the sunset, the sky deepening into twilight. Your fingers are still intertwined, his thumb still tracing those smooth, soothing circles.

“I’m not a bad person—well, I don’t try to be,” Sukuna says suddenly, his voice hesitant.

You frown and turn to him. “And I never said you were.”

“I know, but… I never wanted you to see that side of me. I never wanted anyone to see that side of me. I’m not going to blame it all on Yorozu, because it’s not just her fault. There’s a lot of things I could have done better way before that. It’s hard to admit when I’m wrong or weak.” The strain of his voice was even sent even that was hard to admit.

You give him a small, understanding smile, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. “Listen, I know you’re an asshole—trust me. Some people are just good at pushing buttons and she knew exactly how to push yours. Maybe you could have handled things differently, but let’s just be glad you didn’t do something you’d actually regret.”

He manages a weak smile in return, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. For a long, suspended moment, you simply look at each other, letting the silence and the golden wash of sunset wrap around you like a fragile truce.

“I don’t regret kissing you,” he says suddenly, voice rough but honest. Your eyes widen, caught off guard by his bluntness.

You sit there for a beat, then smirk, trying to act like he doesn’t fluster you. “Well, I would hope not.” A giggle escapes you, but it fades into a gentle sigh. “But you did get sick. I wish I could have taken care of you, the way you did for me.” You pout, inching a little closer, your nerves finally dissolving.

He grins, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “Like I said, it was worth it.” He winks, and your heart stutters.

Your gaze drops to his lips, remembering the way they felt—soft, surprisingly sweet. The memory lingers, tempting, but you hold back. Now probably isn’t the best time to kiss him, not right after he’s opened up to you like this.

But then you really think about the kiss. How it made you felt. All of the confusion that has consumed because of it. You need to say something, at least try to talk about.

You huff and lean back, suddenly feeling exposed. “I’ve never really been in an actual relationship before,” you admit quietly, glancing at Sukuna.

He shrugs, just as blunt as ever. “Neither have I.”

You frown, thinking of Yorozu, but he cuts you off before you can say anything. “Nope. Never took her on a real date or anything like that. I’m not counting it.” He huffs, almost defensive.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a reluctant smile. “Whatever you say.”

He shifts, his expression softening. “So this is new to both of us—” he starts, but he notices the flicker of panic in your eyes.

It’s only been five months. You’ve loved getting to know him, and you feel so comfortable with him, but the uncertainty gnaws at you. Are you moving too fast? Too slow? You have no idea how any of this is supposed to work. You don’t want to push him away, but you don’t want to cling too tightly either.

Sukuna exhales hard, the sound rough around the edges, like he’s been holding onto something too long. He gives you a smirk, but there’s that softness in his eyes that only you ever get to see. His hand moves, calloused fingers brushing your hair aside before cupping your cheek—his touch is firm, like he’s trying to remind you he’s right here.

“We don’t have to rush anything, baby. I don’t expect you to think we do. And if you decide you don’t want anything more, that’s fine with me. I never really knew what a relationship was supposed to be. I still don’t. But I do know I want to keep being with you—however that looks.”

You lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand soothe your frayed nerves. The sincerity in his voice anchors you. His words sink deep. You realize how serious he’s being in this moment

You smile, feeling some of the tension melt away. The uncertainty is still there, but now it feels like something you can face together.

“Let’s just… see where this goes?” you suggest softly.

He grins, eyes brightening. “Yeah. Let’s just see.”

It’s finally dark as you both head toward Sukuna’s bike. He carried you on his back so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot over the rough ground again. At the bike, he helps you put on your helmet and help slide your heels back onto your feet.

As you settle behind him on the bike, you rest your head against his broad back and close your eyes. The night has turned chillier, and you instinctively press closer, stealing his warmth as he weaves through traffic heading back to the complex.

When you pull up to the apartment complex, Sukuna is quick to help you off the bike—as always. You check your phone and your stomach. You have over thirty messages from Toji.

Oh, fuck. I totally forgot about Toji and the kids.

You scroll through the messages, heart hammering. Toji kept updating you all evening, letting you know he decided to go to your apartment instead of his own—didn’t want to trash his house, and this is what you get for throwing four kids on him out of the blue. The kids were actually pretty good, just happy to see each other, and they all ended up eating instant ramen together.

You and Sukuna walk up the steps, the silence between you comfortable as ever, but there’s still a nervous energy in the air. You’re eager, a little anxious, but mostly relieved you talked things out—there’s understanding between you, and it feels good.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by Toji sprawled out on the couch, passed out, with Megumi curled up on top of his chest. Choso, Yuji, and Nobara are asleep on the floor, surrounded by pillows, blankets, and the remnants of their play session—crayons, toys, and play dough scattered everywhere.

You let out a sigh and smile at the sight. Without a word, Sukuna moves to pick up Choso and Yuji, carrying them with ease across the hall to his apartment and tucking them into bed.

Without even a second thought, you step out into the hallway to say goodnight, your heart fluttering as you wait.

He must have sensed you, because he comes right back out and smiles at you and you smile right back, but the nervousness rises in your chest again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft with a slight purr. You nod with a small smile, warmth blooming in your chest instead.

He closes the distance between you in one smooth motion, his presence overwhelming yet comforting. With surprising gentleness, Sukuna presses his lips to your temple, the brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes widen in surprise for just a moment, but quickly, you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the tenderness.

“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin, his gruff tone barely masking the affection beneath.

“Goodnight, Sukuna.”

summary: hey so I sobbed so much writing this. I had to pause several times. I was up until 4 AM editing this and making sure it was sad. so you’re welcome. BUT HEY WE ARE GETTING SOMEWHERE WITH THESE LOVEBIRDS!

in other news, I am currently incredibly hyper fixated on the throne of glass series and have read four books in less than a week. so please bear with me on the next chapter, I will try to get it out soon as possible. I am using my free time as much as I can.

as always, please let me know how you feel about this chapter. this has been one of my favorite chapter so far. I hope you all are having an incredible week and have a great weekend. I love you guys♥️♥️

taglist is open: please comment and let me know if you want to be on it!! (:

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#jjk #sukuna #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #sukuna fic #jjk fic #dividers by @enchanthings - a

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filmbyjy · 2 days ago

Text

XO (Only If You Say Yes)

PAIRING: lee heeseung x fem!reader

SYPNOSIS: both you and heeseung have been friends for a long time. when the both of you were younger, people always told you that being friends of the opposite gender would be hard. feelings would definitely be involved. at first, you'd deny it but after a such a long time. feelings definitely bloomed and heeseung had to agree.

WARNING(s): none! though, idk if i should consider jokingly threatening to m*rder someone a warning. a small peck warning(?) it's all fluff and comedy so like yeah, we safe.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K words

a/n: yay more content. i finally have a drabble for heeseung in his masterlist. which btw, just send an ask for a request if you have any! i'll write it as soon as possible!! oh and again, this work is not stolen. it is a reposted work from my wattpad (markxdino). i don't post on there anymore but i do have some books on there like the ateez imagines book and enhypen imagines book which is currently getting revamped.

Sometimes life just puts you down and when that happens, you're lucky to have your best friends by your side. The universe decided to pair you with 7 adorable dorks. All very unique in their own way.

"Come on (name). It will be fun to go to the amusement park! The rides aren't scary!" Jake says. It's almost like he wasn't scared of the rides too. You looked over to Jay, he does gestures for you not to agree but you'd like him to suffer so...

"Alright alright. Let's go. But you're paying for the tickets mister rich boy." You say. Jake smiles.

"Well I invited you so I'll pay for your tickets. The others can pay on their own." Jake says as he turns to look at the other boys. Which earns a few whines.

"You invited us too but why you just paying for (name)'s tickets, that isn't fair!" Sunoo whines.

"Fine fine. I'll pay for all your tickets except for." There was a pause in his words. "Jay you think you could pay on your own?"

Jay almost looked too offended. "I'm sorry? You are paying for my suffering so you pay. I never agreed to go to an amusement park. You guys just wanna see me suffer." Jay huffs. Jake only shakes his head.

"Says the son of a CEO." Jake fires. Jay's eyes widened.

"Alright, fine I'll pay by myself since you're being such a bitch." Jay says. Jake smirks. He clearly got Jay good.

"Thanks Jay, pay for yourself alright?" Jake skips off to the classroom. Jay's jaw drops when he realised what he has done.

"Come on buddy, you should get to class. Me and Heeseung are going." You pat Jay's shoulder. Sunghoon shakes his head.

"I'll drag him to class. We have classes together right now. I'm going to hear an earful from him later." Sunghoon sighs. Both you and Heeseung made it to class on time. The teacher starts the class and teaches everything needed for this apparent surprise test.

It ain't a surprise test when you spoiled it already and causing students to stress the hell out. The fact that the teacher also never told the date so they could just randomly say 'oh today we are doing the test' and students would just be crapping themselves cause they never studied. However, that's not for you and heeseung though. The both of you top this class all the time. Both you and heeseung already made a point to study a topic earlier with your tutor so it would be easier for you guys to do well and yes you two have the same tutor so they taught the both of you the same time.

"Here notes that Mr.Blake gave us during that tutor session." Heeseung says. You smiled.

"Thanks Heeseung. You made a photocopy right?"

"Oh please we live next to each other. I can climb into your bedroom window."

"Well then, I should lock it shut so you don't just randomly scare me at 12am while I'm watching a horror movie about serial killers."

"Who watches horror movies at night anyways?" He folds his arms.

"Me and everyone who likes horror movies."

"Well you are weird."

"Well you're just a baby."

"Please Jay is a bigger baby than me." Heeseung says.

"Well that's true." You say. You remember last Halloween everyone planned to scare Jay but he ran out the house when he saw your black cat come out of your room. It was also dressed up as a spider hence he ran out of the house. "That poor boy." You say. Heeseung chuckles softly.

After the class, heeseung drags you to the usual table. I would say this was the boy's territory or table. To you though, it's just a table they always use because it's in the middle and nobody wants to sit here for some odd reason. Maybe cause you'd feel like a caged animal being stared at by thousands of students.

Honestly, everyone in your school practically knew this was the boys' table. 7 of them and their one girl friend all sitting together. Everyone just kinda left that table alone for the 8 of you. Maybe it's because the boys were pretty famous, every grade no matter what it was just found them attractive. As for you? Many guys would love to date you but clearly you had your eyes on someone. You were super close with Heeseung and everyone knows that, they already had no chance to ask either one of you out because of how close you two were.

"So today's lunch, whatever alien thing that crawled out of the sewer." Sunoo says as he brought his tray of food. The tray falls right onto the table and it definitely did not look appetising. You look at the food in disgust.

"What the heck is that supposed to be?" You asked. Sunoo sighs. He grabs a spoon and scoops up some of the contents.

"Apparently, it's supposed to be mushroom soup but I don't think it's supposed to be that colour." Sunoo says. Ni-Ki looks at the food, he turns away to gag.

"Please throw that out or eat somewhere else." He says still facing away from the soup.

"Don't worry, I'm feeding it to the trash can later on. Anyone want to visit the snack shop with me or like the vending machine?" Sunoo says. Everyone raises their hands. "Alright how about we split so no one steals our stuff and the table."

"Alright, then who is way more hungrier and can't bare to wait until the others come back?" Jungwon says. Ni-Ki, Sunoo, Jake and Sunghoon raised their hands.

"Alright you four go first. Me, Jay hyung, (name) and Heeseung hyung will stay here." Jay nudges Jungwon and whispers something. "A-Ah, I'm suddenly getting hungry. My stomach is grumbling really badly. Jay hyung you can stay here with the both of them."

"No no, I'm seriously hungry too. I'll go with you." Jay says. They push the others out. You tilt your head confused by the sudden action. Heeseung sighs clearly knowing what they were doing.

"I don't know whether to be concerned or confused." You say.

"Just be confused. Anyways, got any plans for the weekends?"

"Didn't we just plan out an amusement park journey with the others?" You say. Heeseung facepalms.

"Forgot."

"Seems like you have a goldfish brain."

"I'll have you know goldfishes are pretty smart!"

"Okay heeseung." You tease. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something but then a guy walks up to the table. He holds out a pink letter to you, the poor boy was shaking because he was nervous.

"H-Here is my confession l-letter." He shyly says while stuttering. You smiled.

"You are so adorable. It was brave for you to confess but I don't want to lead you on into thinking if I read this letter, it means I like you or something. You seem like a sweet boy, but I think you'd be better off with someone else. We can be best friends though if you'd like?" You explain to the boy. He bites his lips nervously, he knew he just got rejected but he couldn't feel sad about the rejection.

You rejected him in the nicest way possible and even offered to be his friend instead. He nods while blushing.

"S-Sure."

"I'll keep this letter though. Unless of course, you want it back." You teased. He shakes his hands.

"N-No it's fine. It was for you anyways. U-Umm thank you for letting me down gently. No girl I confessed to has done that to me."

"Aww poor you but I do hope you find someone who can accept your feelings." You motion for him to get closer and when he does you whisper to him. "I'm sorry to hurt you but I already have a crush on someone."

"No no it's fine. I think I know who it is." You smiled. "I have to go now."

"Ah, my phone number if you want to chat with me." You wrote it down for him. He thanked you and went with his own way. You turned around to find Heeseung still sitting there probably hearing almost everything. He folded his arms.

"Wow, someone confessed to you and you rejected them. You're cruel."

"Oh shut up, I'm not looking to date anyone right now."

"Really? Haven't you been complaining about being single for 19 years of your life."

"Shut up, Heeseung." you whined. The 6 other boys came back.

"Turns out, the vending machine is completely out of snacks." Jungwon says.

"After you guys emptied the whole damn thing?" You say pointing to the snacks they were all carrying. They awkwardly laugh.

"Yeah but hey we have a lifetime supply of snacks now." Sunoo says.

"Lifetime? You guys will finish this in 2 days." You say.

"Oh come on don't need to be grouchy. Here, we got you your favourite snack from the vending machine." Jay says. He hands you your snack, you opened it and happily chowed down on it.

[Time Skip]

It was finally the weekends, you dressed up in the most simplest outfit you could think of. Light purple t-shirt and jeans, if it was hot, you have your bucket hat to save your head from burning. You met up with the boys at the entrance of the amusement park, Jake waves his hand so you knew where he and the others were.

"So, idiots what are we going to do?" You had questioned them.

"First off, let's take the scary rides-"

Jay cuts off Jake, "Oh hell no. If you start with that, I'm leaving right now. I don't even have my ticket yet."

"Jay, your dad could buy the amusement park if he'd like. You can literally just walk in and say 'oh I'm a son of this specific CEO, let me in' so casually and they will do just that." Sunghoon says.

"They aren't going to let me in if I say that."

"Test it out." Sunghoon says. Jay huffs, he goes to the gate and straight up tells the lady as she asks for the ticket. Her eyes widened before she slides her card and lets him in. Jay turns back to the rest of you with his jaw dropped. You could see him just walk in slowly, trying to process what had just happened. "Told him he could do that."

The 7 of you caught up to Jay who was still baffled that he just did that. He had opened his mouth to say something but closes it back after he didn't know what to say.

"The privilege of having a CEO dad." Sunghoon says patting Jay's shoulder.

"I really should do this more often. I have the power!"

"And here I thought you said you'd rather work hard instead of using the CEO's son title." You say folding your arms. Jay opens his mouth to say something but he couldn't, he knew you were right. He pouts.

"Okay fine, I'll stick to my words. I'll work hard and not use my title...unless it's for something important." Jay says. You rolled your eyes. The 8 of you went over to the boat ride.

"Any of you seasick?" You asked. All of them shook their head.

"Seems like we need to split up, 4 people can only ride one boat."

"I just realised. Is this going to make us wet? I'm pretty sure it ain't a normal boat ride." Ni-ki says.

"You only live once." You say as you dragged heeseung into the chair so he'd sit next to you.

"Alright, who wants to sit in front of the couple?" Jake says. You were about to protest.

"We can go first. Younger ones first." Sunoo sticks out his tongue before dragging Ni-ki into the seat in front. Ni-ki could already feel that the seat was wet, he sighs.

"I was so right. We are going to get wet. Should have worn those water resistant pants." Ni-ki says.

"Oh come on Ni-ki don't be bummed out. We can get food later on. My treat." You say. The younger boy's eyes sparkled.

The boat starts moving. It was a slow ride at first until it decides to go up.

"HUH WAIT THIS ISNT WHAT I THOUGHT WOULD HAPPEN." You panicked. Heeseung holds your hands to comfort you.

"I'm here don't worry." While that comforted you because you liked him but you still felt terrified. Once it reaches the point at the top, it rushes down. You hugged heeseung tightly as you feel the water splashing across your face. Sunoo yells, Ni-ki closes his eyes and heeseung held you tight.

The ride gets to a normal slow pace like what you hoped for but no that boat went on another slope. The four of you got off the boat to wait for the others. You were still holding onto Heeseung's hand like it was a casual thing.

"Hey, let's go grab cotton candy over there." He says trying to distract you. You turned to the sweet cotton candy and smiled.

"Let's go." You left sunoo and Ni-ki to wait for the others and yes you two sneaked away. Heeseung pays for the cotton candy and you happily peeled off a piece.

"You got cotton candy on your lips." Heeseung says. You tried to wipe it. "Here let me help." You felt his lips on yours, a small sweet peck. Your eyes widened. Once he pulls back, he smiles.

"What the heck was that for heeseung." You say flustered as fuck. He chuckles.

"I've always wanted to do that. Guess my confidence just sparked there, huh." He shyly says. You were just baffled.

"So you like me, huh?" You say. He simply smiles.

"Well I wouldn't just kiss a random girl who had cotton candy on her lips." Heeseung says.

"Alright but still, you can't just kiss me out of nowhere. It makes my heart beat quickly." You say. Heeseung chuckles even more.

"(name), I like you. It did get me a little jealous when someone confessed to you like a few days back but I know there was no way you'd like someone else."

"Well, how did you find out?" You fold your arms. Heeseung points to Jay. You gasp.

"THAT CEO'S SON, I'M GOING TO MURDER THAT BI-" Heeseung holds you back.

"Calm down. You can kill him later by making him ride a rollercoaster. For now, would you say yes to being my girlfriend?"

"Do you think I'm crazy for not saying yes? Obviously, I'll say yes heeseung." You hugged him. He smiles.

"Oh, that's where you two went." Jay smirks. As soon as you heard his voice, you glared at the boy. His smirk slowly disappears.

"PARK JONGSEONG, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU." His eyes widened. He prepares himself to run. You had let go of the hug from Heeseung and started chasing after Jay.

Poor boy was screaming out loud as you chased him.

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#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader imagines #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung imagine #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader imagines #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader imagines

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amiya-shirou · 2 days ago

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I love how despite the Seaborn having a very minor role during Exodus from the Pale Sea their presence is still embedded so deeply in every facet of the story. I don't just mean how they're the reason the Pale Sea exists or how one of them appears in the event, but also the way they affect the themes of the story, which applies the Human Individuality vs Seaborn Collective conflict we've already explored in the Abyssal Hunter events to a tale where every part is played by humans.

There's something in the way Anastasio stands against any and all desires, almost word for word quoting Arturia as something that should be fought against at all costs. The way Arturia in turn thought of the Seaborn as boring because they lacked that desire. The way the citizens in this story are so scared of desire, how they fell so deeply on the Inquisition's teachings to survive and try to forget the horror they lived through that even now that much of the danger has passed and the conditions are better they still dare not fill their bellies even if there's food, they dare not buy something that might look fun from the caravans, they dare not wish for anything for themselves, almost every ounce of individuality they once had completely destroyed to the point that when Silver tried lifting the bans and letting them live a better life they couldn't accept it and wanted the prohibitions to come back, readily switching side to Anastasio to get back that familiar sense of comfort and stability the rules gave them even if they had long exhausted their material purpose. The very Inquisition that's so hellbent on eradicating the Seaborn from the land while making speeches about the superiority of human civilization ended up turning the people they swore to protect in something that's not so different from them, or even fully ready to join We Many as seen in other events with the way the Church of the Deep is able to pray on the discontent of the Iberians.

But as Deepcolor once noted in her operator record, it's impossible to completely eradicate your humanity, just like the Priest she talks to couldn't fully become Seaborn due to his curiosity or she couldn't become one because of her artistic passion, and in fact if you look at the conditions of both the citizens and Anastasio, they're all just guided by fear. After all the Seaborn have no concept of guilt or sinning, they're just driven by the instinct to keep the collective going and any of them would readily sacrifice itself for the others and they're shown wanting to free their kin even as they're actively being killed by them - meanwhile Silver trying to help the city by reforming the pirates and making some compromises so that everyone could live better is met by Anastasio with disdain, because his teachings don't allow for real forgiveness except for the one given by death, no matter if "the collective" has to live a life of misery because of it. He values peace of mind above the physical well being of the people in a way that's the farthest you could ever get from We Many, but the way he gets it is by violently eradicating the core difference between us and them. He seeks the embrace of death, deeply mythologizing it like a human would, while being driven by an incredibly powerful directive to live on like a Seaborn would, straight up coming back from the death three times. He's a walking contradiction, and when the event ends with him literally being shown as a mix of both, everything falls into pieces. It's a tale about how self-destructive repressing your wishes and individuality and trying to force everyone to adhere to a single doctrine - trying to live as a seaborn while being human - is.

And of course the final touch is how well all this works as a premise for Arknights to make a story about pirates, because of course even if they're not actual good guys and in fact very violent and did plenty of bad things on screen, they'll forever be a great stand-in for the concept of seeking freedom and following what your heart desires (and in fact the whole plot revolved around the Corazonix, one side wishing for what it promised, the other believing it only brings corruption). Juana and her crew are the other extreme to the Inquisition in the city, people solely guided by their desires to the point they become destructive, and while we had to fight both sides during the event, the final resolution is about accepting them as shown with Thorns's very simple wish that guides him to victory against Anastasio - he just wants to see the ocean. The story ends with the beginning of a straightforward pirate story with Isidro and his fun band of misfits going on an adventure, re-contextualized in a setting where the Profound Silence had long since suffocated any notion of dreaming about the future, any notion of the sea as something you want to admire and explore rather than a place of horror and death as it's always been presented in Arknights up until now.

It's neat.

#I don't care if this is the first iberian event with no major Seaborn presence it's not going to stop me from writing my usual Seaborn essay #obligatory addendum: I do think the Seaborn can and are getting better and coexistence with them is the goal #and there are things both sides can take from each other in a way that's ultimately positive #but not in the purely instinct form they're in right now. they need to evolve like my beloved Endspeaker did. lets blurry the barrier first #arknights #exodus from the pale sea #yelling at clouds

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holycritchance · 2 days ago

Text

unintentional outcome | chance x reader

synopsis; sometimes things are better not going as originally planned. word count; 1.7k author's note; aaaaa my first piece for the loml - i've been nonstop playing the game since it was released and i finally feel as if i have a decent grasp on how to write for him!! this is for the monthly theme in the date everything discord :))

“Well good morning to you, too, cool kid.”

Freddy rumbles with a laugh as you grab onto the handles of your refrigerator, throwing open the doors with an excitement that was… uncharacteristic for you at this early hour.

“Mornin’, Freddy!” You chirp in response, eyes scanning what little food you had inside.

“What’s got you so chipper this morning, eh? I didn’t see you stop by Kopi’s for your morning fix,” Freddy questions, watching as you reach inside and pull out a container of mixed fruit to examine. “Is it some special day? Feel like Holly would’ve told me if it was a holiday.”

You hum to yourself as you set the fruit on the counter nearby before diving back in. “Not a holiday! Just excited for some plans I’ve got today.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” He beams at you. “Whatcha got going on today, cool kid?”

You smile, grabbing a ziploc bag containing half a block of cheese. It joins the fruit on the counter and you shut Freddy’s doors, next swinging open Cabrizzio.

“Just… hanging out,” you say with a damning flush reddening your face. “I thought a picnic would be nice, yeah?”

Freddy’s expression becomes one of mischief as he chuckles. “Oh, I see. You’re hanging out with Chance today, aren’t ya?”

“Don’t make me regret confiding in you,” you retort as you bring the fruit over to Sinclaire for a quick rinse. “I’ll never tell you a thing again, Freddy.”

Freddy laughs in response, clearly amused at your empty threat. “Alright, alright,” he acquiesces, raising his hands. “A picnic sounds lovely. Here, there’s some ice cream I made last night waiting in the freezer — I tested the waters and made a black cherry with some chunks of dark chocolate mixed in. Take it with ya!”

You can’t contain your glee as you reach into the freezer and pull out the container, placing it with the rest of the food. With everything in one place, you bend down and dig through the cabinets beneath your sink.

“Ah, there we go! It’s no picnic basket but it’ll do,” you murmur as you pull out an old shopping bag and carefully load the food inside along with some silverware. “Thanks, Freddy, you’re the best!”

Freddy flushes with a chuckle. “Anything for you, cool kid. Swing by later to tell me how the ice cream was — and about your date!”

You shoot Freddy a pointed glance as you hurry around the corner and make a beeline for the office. As you approach the door you hear soft music playing within and a nervous feeling crawls up your spine. You stand outside the office, bag in hand, heart racing as your hand hovers over the doorknob.

You’ve no idea how much time passes before Dorian is what stands between you and the office, an eyebrow quirked at you.

“Just gonna stand here all day?” He asks, startling you. “Never seen you so rigid, friend. Nerves getting the best of you?”

“No!” Your face scrunches up in irritation as Dorian chuckles at your far too quick response. A surge of courage surges through you as you straighten your back and push past Dorian into the office. “See! I’m going.”

“Have fun —”

That’s all you catch before you practically slam the door behind you. You stop short as you find Chance standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by papers, game pieces, books and various writing utensils. A speaker playing some instrumental piece sits on the shelf and all the curtains are closed, giving the room a rather eerie feel.

“Ah, hello!” Chance calls, stepping over the disarray to meet you. “Sorry about the mess, I guess I got a bit carried away again…I’m just stumped on how I wanna go about this one.”

“Crafting another campaign?” You question, a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Chance chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Am I that obvious?”

You hold up the bag of food. “Wanna tell me about it over some snacks?”

With that, you’re led into the heart of Chance’s planning, standing with him amongst the many pieces of torn-out notebook paper and guidebooks. You notice sketches of characters from past campaigns scrawled in the margins accompanied by scribbled out plots, twists, settings — worlds built only to be discarded.

“You see, I was thinking of asking you and Dasha if you wanted to reopen the troubadour run,” Chance says as he searches for his notes amongst the clutter, “for some, say, post-credits fun! I was thinking about how we never touched further on how Miles fared within reaching their dream and came up with… here!”

He bends down, grabbing a few papers and holding them out to you. He takes the bag of food from you and sets it aside, eyes never leaving you as you read through his ideas. As you flip pages back and forth, he watches your eyes scan each line and awaits your feedback.

“A royal ball?” You look up to see Chance grinning broadly. “Let me guess — at the apex of the event, expect an enemy force to raid the palace, pocketing whatever they deem valuable. This all is inconsequential to a point until they choose to also take with them… the prized royal family heirloom, a priceless ribbon sheath! Another adventure is born!”

Chance smiles but shakes his head. “Quite the imagination you have! I guess I’m starting to rub off on you, yeah? However, I was just thinking we have a relaxing session for once! Something fun and unexpected!”

“Woah, no risks? No danger? That is unexpected,” you agree. “You said you were having troubles with this? It seems so well thought out, though.”

Even in the dimmed lighting you can see Chance redden as he takes the papers from you. “Well, heh, I really appreciate that. My shortcomings lie within the main event itself — dancing, specifically. I’m just not sure how to best describe it to give you guys the imagery I usually provide.”

“You don’t know how to describe…how to dance?” You ask, confused. He nods and you can’t help but laugh — the idea of a man able to create such vast and beautiful worlds can’t conjure up a way to explain a dance?

Chance huffs, pouting at your reaction. “I-I’ve tried everything I could think of! I even talked to Rainey but that, well, didn’t give me much to work with. This music I’ve had on repeat for hours now has helped only set a mood but nothing more!”

He’s clearly frustrated as he gestures to the papers and whatnot scattered all around the two of you. The aforementioned music fills the silence that follows and you let it play for a moment before an idea comes to mind.

“Dance with me, then.” You hold a hand out to Chance, hoping to the geode goddess herself he can’t notice the tremble in your fingers. “Maybe if you live the experience it’ll be easier to work into a story?”

“Is this just an excuse for you to hold my hand?” He teases but rests his hand in yours regardless. “You know how to dance?”

“Vaguely.” You guide his other hand to rest on your hip before placing your unoccupied hand on his shoulder. “Ready?”

Chance is quiet and you slowly begin to lead in a, frankly, improvised dance. You’re careful to follow the beat while also making sure you don’t step on any of his materials. Neither of you speaks for a couple of moments, too focused on keeping up with one another.

Soon, comfort creeps its way in and the two of you move fluidly together. The proximity becomes less nerve wracking and you find yourself slowly moving closer, practically chest to chest as the dance continues.

“Is… this working?” You murmur after some time, curious.

Chance nods. “Oh, yeah. Had the scene all figured out about five steps into this whole thing.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You go to step back, figuring this is all he needed, but his grip on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “Chance?”

“I’m sorry I turned our hangout into a G&G planning session,” he mutters, casting a glance at the abandoned bag of food in the corner. “You brought food and everything only for me to hijack your plans.”

You attempt to stifle a laugh but find yourself unsuccessful, opting to cover your mouth with your hand. “You say this as if I’m having the worst time of my life.”

Chance shrugs, still swaying the both of you with the music. “Yeah, but —”

“I’d rather this over what I had planned,” you interrupt, reaching up and tapping the space between his eyebrows. “I admire your passion for what you love, Chance. Besides, I’ve just spent — what? — the last ten minutes in your arms. This was the best first date I’ve ever been on!”

Abruptly, the two of you stop swaying. Neither of you step away from each other, however, even when the speaker runs out of charge and leaves deafening silence.

“First date?” Chance echoes, a sort of excitement in his tone. You refuse to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment and he chuckles before giving your hip an affectionate squeeze before stepping back. “Here, I gotta clean this up and finish writing the oneshot. Are you free tomorrow to play?”

You nod, words failing you. His smile practically lights up the room and you can’t help but smile yourself — Chance’s joy is nothing if not contagious.

“Great! I’ll let Dasha know,” he says. “And maybe afterwards, you and I can grab something to eat? Koa’s place would be a great place for a second date.”

You nod as he talks, eyes widening as the words second date are spoken.

“A second…! Y-yeah, absolutely!” Your eagerness has you tripping over your words. Clearing your throat, you try again. “I’d love to.”

Chance places a hand on your shoulder and leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Till tomorrow, then.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you nod furiously, slowly backing out of the office. Once the door is shut you find yourself staring at it just as you had earlier, only this time the nerves are gone, replaced by overwhelming joy. Your heart pounds in your chest as you grin and run for the kitchen.

“Freddy! Freddy! I’ve got something to tell you!”

#date everything #chance date everything #date everything chance #chance #chance date everything x reader

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m-robinavitch · 1 day ago

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Me, thinking about Michael's big ass hands

V I’m-

This got away from me- I’m not sorry at this point.

NSFW under the cut because- it’s Robby

But-

Listen.

Listen-

I shiver thinking about what those big ass hands can do. The man is wide, 6’2 and has large hands to match. They’re heavy and warm and rough to the touch.

Think about Robby’s large hands- what they can do because he’s quick and light when he sutures but fast and strong when doing compressions. Sometimes you can sit and stare while he does little more than charting because they just- they’re big.

Think about those big hands when they’re on your lower back as he passes behind you in the crowded trauma room. Heavy on your back with a rough “excuse me sweetheart” in your ear- low enough that only you could hear it.

Think about his large hands over yours as he guides the way you should cut for a chest tube- even through the gloves you can feel how warm they are. His chest against your back- absolutely inappropriate the way he’s around you but you can feign ignorance as it’s just your attending teaching you how to properly use a scalpel. “That’s my girl” he would say, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear.

Think about those big fucking hands digging into your hips- shoving you against the supply room shelves because you only have 5 minutes of spare time and Robby is going to make every second count. Rough, calloused hands roaming under your scrub top- needy mouth slotting against yours in a desperate kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue and beard. He’s swallowing your moans, one hand dragging across your chest to roughly palm and tease at your nipples while his other large hand is grabbing handfuls of your ass to help you grind into his equally large thigh that was shoved between your own.

Think about how Michael’s big hands have equally large fingers. It was almost comical the way you flinched after he shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you suck and get them wet so he could stretch you open with them. He finally had you naked and writhing in his lap while he was completely clothed still- cooing at you when you tensed because no matter how long he rubbed your clit, no matter how wet you were, those thick fingers were going to have you sore tomorrow. “You can take it sweetheart, need to make sure you’re nice and open for me.” Because if his hands were that big- you can only imagine what was behind his zipper. It was a stretch- it made the corner of your eyes sting with tears while he had you bounce up and down on him. Thick fingers shoved into your mouth- heavy on your tongue when he commanded “suck” while his other hand used his rough fingers to circle your clit.

Think about Robby’s large hands coming down hard on your ass- doling out a punishment because you thought it was fun to tease the man during his shift. Sending him pictures of you in various stages of undress. Telling him you wish he was here with you and maybe you were trying to shove your own fingers inside to no avail. He has you bent over on the couch, bracing against the back of it while his hand comes down again and the crack echoes through his house. It hurt. Your ass was red and sore and you weakly mumbled “n-nine” because he wanted you to count out loud. You felt his hand soothe the sting, rubbing the angry red marks away before dipping those thick fucking fingers into your wet, dripping cunt- laughing when you pull away from them even if you had nowhere to be between him and the couch. “No, no no no- you fucking wanted attention right? Lay there and take it like a good fucking girl.” Another heavy slap- you had eleven more to count out.

And obviously think about Robby’s large heavy hands coming down on your red swollen cunt- dripping with need and want and every time his hand comes down you shake. He makes you cum that way. Slapping your pussy and mocking you because- “Are you that desperate? Getting off on how hard I slap your greedy little cunt?”

But he’s still Robby. So you think about all those things while his large hands wipe the tears from your face, holding you softly so he can kiss your forehead and whisper praise against your skin because “You did such a good much for me sweetheart” Those large hands pull you into the shower- washing your body gently while he holds you against him. They massage your back and feet because there’s no way he won’t reward you for letting him use you like a fuck toy some nights. Those large hands hold you against his chest- sated and blissed out and sleepy, draped over him with a fucking smile as you drift off with those hands warm on your back.

Yeah- that’s me thinking about those fucking hands too-

#lexi answers life’s questions #v please #you know how Robby gets me-#the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael robby robinavitch x reader #michael robby robinavitch x you #michael robinavich x you #michael robby robinavitch smut #michael robby robinavitch #robby robinavitch #dr robby #doctor robby #robby robinavitch x reader #robby robinavitch x you #my random typings

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berylanisoptera · 3 days ago

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Crack theory(?) time because I have thoughts and it’s cool, shut up/j

ERAM is definitely Ramb. In this essay I will- Ramb “stole” the shadow mantle as Seam put it… but I’m thinking since Seam was taken away from the Dreemurr house (considering some dialogue suggesting at one point they were on Asriel’s side of the room), he kept it safe for Kris, since…

The shadow mantle’s is something that protects from Dark Type Enemies, or as I now believe thanks to a theory I’ve seen running around: Kris’ childhood blanket. And I’m just. I’m thinking about Ramb,,,, Chosen by this weird ass kid, not because of his use to them, but because they found some strange enjoyment in playing with him. He’s just a power strip. Meant only to be used at the bottom rung of the corporate ladder (considering EVERYTHING is plugged into a power strip, and Tenna thinks of him as useful, but the lowest of the low), but this weird ass kid somehow decides that HE is more fun than any other toy.

But as Kris “grows up”, The holidays stop showing up, Asriel moves out for college, and Kris just. stops playing games, stops doing anything other than getting out of bed when their mother tells them to, going to school when Toriel drives them, and going to bed right when they get home. no friends, no nothing, barely living… He needs to do something. And when Kris finally makes that Dark Fountain, he gets that chance. The chance to get Kris to have fun again. Not with any regular toy. Nuh-uh. Kris is a strange one. They wouldn’t want just any mass produced toy. Not some blasted line from A to B. Ramb knows they would want to choose something entirely different.

But Tenna keeps mucking it up. Making them play his way “until they like it”, even though they never will. Tenna has good intentions, but he’s missing the point. Kris isn’t like everyone else.

But that’s the problem with Ramb too. He doesn’t understand why Kris made the fountain. He can’t begin to comprehend that some otherworldly being is controlling them. And even then, Kris has grown up. The same things might not be ‘fun’ anymore, but at this point, Ramb has built his entire ‘ego’ as some pippins call it, on the fact that he knows and was chosen by Kris. That’s why he holds onto the mantle. Because in some twisted fashion, just like Tenna, he thinks he knows what’s best for him. Hence… The entire Sword Route. It’s Ramb’s way of giving Kris “Freedom” while fundamentally missing what freedom Kris wants. it’s still a line. There’s no other choice but to slay monsters and get stronger. But as ERAM says after you defeat them: “That’s what I wanted to see! Flickering red, like pretty little flames!” May I remind you that we don’t control Kris’ expressions? They were feeling something.

“Without play, the knife grows dull” Though this line is threatening, it’s also very telling. Kris isn’t playing anything anymore from Ramb’s perspective. Their life had become one blasted line. But at least with one last game, Ramb was able to at least give them SOME feeling. Excitement, rage, fear, who knows. And not only that, but he gave them the shadow mantle. The one thing that can shield from the dark and make the fight at the end of the chapter at least POSSIBLE for the reasonably sane player. (Not talking about you, No-Hit players.)

….Anyway, TLDR;

Ramb has the same motivations as Tenna and I believe in Found Family Uncle Honorary Dreemurr Ramb.

#deltarune #deltarune spoilers #ramb #beryl rambles #Ramb ramble #Kehehehee #shadow mantle #ERAM #deltarune eram #Wow I wrote a lot more than I thought I did-#deltarune theory #deltarune chapter 3

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igorluvr · 3 days ago

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‘POWER | kwon jiyong x reader

PAIRING: gdragon x reader

CONTENT: smut, angst, situationship/toxic relationship, power imbalance, praise & degrading, fingering, dacryphilia (the tiniest bit), accidentally wrote him with a neck fetish or smth idk, bondage, oral & unprotected sex, orgasm denial, knife play, he’s not emotionally abusive he’s misunderstood i swear !!

SYNOPSIS: you knew who he was to the world: confident, untouchable, power incarnate. but behind closed doors, you saw something else— something raw. when he touched you, it wasn't just desire— it was desperation.

AUTHORS NOTE: first smut fic ahhhh 😓 i honestly had sm fun with this what the flip, writing this made me miss my ex #comebackhomebae

also apart of the übermensch series !!

words: [2.6k]

YOU should’ve known the moment the line between love and lust blurred, everything would fall apart. At first, it was sweet, innocent, perfect. But as the months went by, your relationship warped into something more depraved.

Every day, there was a new issue at work. Usually, you’d comfort him and reassure him that it would pass, but over time, he started growing cold toward you. He ignored your messages, passed you without a word— like you were already gone, and every time it happened, a sharp ache spread through your chest.

You kept telling yourself it would get better, but it never did. Whenever you tried to talk to him about it, another argument would start. It was like he didn’t care about fixing things anymore.

So, you ended things. Told him if he wasn’t going to try, then what was the point? What hurt the most was that he didn’t even seem to care. Instead of accepting his mistakes and trying to make things right, he acted like none of it had ever mattered to begin with.

“Jiyong, I can’t do this anymore,” you said, voice trembling as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, throat raw from holding everything in for too long.

He didn’t even look at you. “Do what?”

“This! Us! I’ve tried so many fucking times to get through to you, but you don’t even care!” Your voice cracked as the tears finally fell, cheeks wet and burning. “I understand work is hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing. I’m not your punching bag— I’m not just here to take your anger!”

He let out a slow exhale and shrugged. “Then don’t.”

You froze, eyes wide. He didn’t even flinch. You stared at him in disbelief. After everything— after every night you held him as he cried over the pressure, every time you stayed up just to hear about his day— this was his answer?

“If you’re so tired, just leave. What do you want me to do? I can’t change how you feel.” he muttered, still refusing to meet your gaze, as if your pain was a burden to him.

You stepped back like he’d slapped you. “Unbelievable.” you whispered. “Do you even hear yourself? You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

He scoffed under his breath and leaned back, arms crossed as if he'd already checked out of the conversation.

And just like that, something inside you snapped.

Your sadness turned into blinding rage. All the late nights, the ignored calls, the way he made you feel invisible— it all came rushing up like fire in your throat. You snatched your purse, your keys, anything that belonged to you with shaking hands.

“I fucking hate you,” you spat, pain laced in every syllable. You didn’t mean it— you loved him so deeply it hurt— but in that moment, you needed him to hurt too. You wanted him to feel every bit of the pain he left you with.

Fuming, you stomped out the front door with your arms full, not bothering to look back. You decided that if he never cared, you wouldn’t either.

That had been a month ago. At first, your breakup went somewhat smoothly. Neither of you called each other— no texts, no profile views, nothing.

But after the first week, none other than Jiyong appeared at your front door, claiming he left some of his things.

Long story short, you ended up doing more than just finding his belongings— being left with countless hickies and rather sore legs. It didn’t stop after that, though. Every couple days since then, Jiyong stopped by with another lame excuse— and you let him in each time. Because as much as you hated yourself for it, having a piece of him still felt better than having nothing at all.

Now, it had been over a week since he last came, and as much as you hated to admit, you missed him. The smell of his cologne on your sheets, the way his voice rasped your name against your skin, the weight of his body tangled with yours like you were something he couldn’t let go of— even if you both knew that wasn’t true.

Your life dulled into a head-throbbing silence after the breakup. No unexpected knocks at the door, nobody to hold as you went to sleep after a long day. It was just you now — you and the thoughts you tried so desperately to outrun.

Hooking up with Jiyong, if even for a few hours, had been the only thing that made you feel alive. It was toxic— you knew it. But he brought you to your highest highs, even if he plunged you into your lowest lows right after.

You stared at your phone, debating whether to break the silence. Just one message, just to see if he’d respond. You hated how desperate you felt, hated that your body still ached for someone who had emotionally abandoned you long before the breakup.

But before you could talk yourself out of it, there was a knock at the door. Your heart jumped, you didn’t need to check who it was— you already knew.

Your hand trembled on the doorknob, torn between shutting him out and the part of you that still craved his touch. Finally, with a shaky breath, you gave in— unlocking the door because, deep down, you wanted this.

He stood there, hood up, hands in his pockets like nothing had changed. “Left my charger,” he mumbled, voice low, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.

Bullshit.

You didn’t answer. You just stepped aside and let him in, even though every rational part of you screamed not to. Because even now, after everything, a piece of him still felt better than none.

Walking around, Jiyong entered and exited rooms as if he were actually looking for something— but you knew why he was here. It was the same reason everytime.

You hated how much power he had over you. He literally just walked in your house as if he owned it after a week of no contact, and you just let it happen. It was like he put a spell on you.

Leaving your room empty handed, Jiyong turned to you.

“Can’t find it” He said with a smirk on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Can you help me look?”

You smiled, already knowing exactly where this was going. Your body moved willingly, betraying every protest your mind tried to whisper. You stepped into your room, pretending to search— eyes scanning drawers, fingers tugging open a basket next to your bed, doing anything to look busy.

You told yourself you were only playing along, just going through the motions. But deep down, a part of you wanted this, needed it. Because no matter how twisted he made things, Jiyong was the only one who could make your body forget it all.

You were crouched beside the bed, fingers aimlessly shifting things around when you heard him behind you— voice low, lazy, and dripping with heat.

“You look good like that— bent over.”

A flash of heat rose to your cheeks. You tried to hide the smirk tugging at your lips as you answered, loud and dry. “Whatever, Jiyong.”

But you didn’t move, you didn’t stop him. And he didn’t hesitate.

He stepped closer, voice low and rough. “Can I?”

You swallowed hard, breathless, and nodded. His hand then grazed your lower back, sliding down over the curve of your ass.

His fingers pressed firmly, possessively— like he was reminding you who you belonged to. “I missed this,” he murmured into your ear, lips barely grazing your skin. “Missed you.”

“I need you, now.” you whispered, breath hitching when his hand slipped between your thighs, cupping you through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips jolted instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“I know you do, baby.” he whispered, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. “No matter how much you say you hate me.”

You could’ve stopped him, but you didn’t want to— not tonight. Not when your whole body remembered what it felt like to be his. Leaning into him, back arching, your head tilted back to give him more access.

You yearned for his touch, your past issues leaving your mind as soon as he laid a finger on you. He was your weakness, your addiction.

His fingers broke the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin just beneath as his lips dragged along your neck. The way he touched you made you dizzy— slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you piece by piece.

“Already so wet” he murmured, voice low and smug, fingers now gliding through your folds with a dazing rhythm. “Missed me that bad, huh?”

You didn’t respond— you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you with every shaky breath, every low moan spilling from your lips as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles that had your hips grinding back into him instinctively.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your spine as he pulled you closer, hand gripping your waist like he was holding himself back from completely losing control.

“God, you’re so needy,” he growled, his voice rougher now, almost breathless. Your moans turned into gibberish and incoherent whines as you felt your stomach tighten familiarly, but just when you thought you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped.

“Do you want this, princess?” He asked, removing his hand from your waist to turn your head towards his. “Say the word, and I’ll make you forget every reason you left.”

All your pride, all the promises you made to never let him do this again, evaporated on your tongue as you spoke up, practically whining, “Fuck—yes, Jiyong, please.”

He smirked, satisfied with your desperation, and in one swift motion, picked you up and threw you onto the bed. You barely had time to react before he practically tore both of your shirts off and latched onto your mouth.

“You beg so pretty for me,” he said, pulling away and panting like he’d just run a marathon. “You always do.”

His mouth found your neck in no time, sucking on that spot he knew drove you crazy, while he fondled your breast using his free hand. With each bite to your neck, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you grind up against him out of pure need.

“Not yet, pretty,” he teased. “Gotta get you ready first. Don’t you wanna have fun?” He smiled— just as cocky as he was when you were together.

You whimpered under him, the ache between your thighs unbearable as he continued to toy with your body like it belonged to him— because in a way, it always had.

“Jiyong,” you breathed, fingers curling into the sheets as his tongue dragged lazily along the edge of your collarbone. “Please…”

“Oh? Now you’re polite?” he teased, voice soaked in poison. “Didn’t sound so sweet when you walked out that door, did you?”

His words stung, but the way his fingers slipped between your legs silenced every ounce of pride you had left. He pushed your shorts down your thighs, then leaned back to take in the sight of you— panting, flushed, and needy for him.

“Look at you.” he muttered, dragging his fingers slowly over your soaked panties. “You hate me, right? But your body…” he smirked as he pressed against your clit through the fabric, causing you to gasp, “doesn’t lie.”

The way his fingers circled and teased was enough to have your back arching, your chest heaving as your body screamed for more. Jiyong held your hips down, forcing you to stay in place and endure his restless teasing.

He leaned down again, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me how bad you want it.” he whispered, “Beg for me like you mean it.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to give up your pride— but the words fell out anyway, breathless and broken. “I want you, Jiyong. I need you.”

With that, he yanked your panties down and spread your legs, gaze darkening as he settled between them. “Good girl,” he said lowly, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Let me remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Then his mouth was on you— hot, skilled, relentless. Every flick of his tongue, every graze of his teeth had you unraveling more and more beneath him, gripping the sheets like a lifeline as he devoured you without mercy.

Your thighs trembled as his tongue worked you over with slow, devastating precision. He knew every inch of your body— every spot that made you squirm, every rhythm that made your eyes roll back, and he didn’t let up— not even for a second.

“Fuck— Jiyong,” you moaned, back arching as you tugged at his hair, needing something— anything—to ground you.

He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips, gripping your thighs tighter as he sucked on your clit just long enough to have your legs threatening to close around his head.

“Oh no, baby,” he muttered, pulling back from inbetween your thighs just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, eyes dark and full of lust. “Keep those legs open for me. You wanted this, remember?”

You nodded frantically, too close to stop, too far gone to care about anything but the knot building inside you— tight, hot, and on the verge of snapping.

He slipped two fingers inside you with no warning, curling them perfectly as his mouth returned to its place between your thighs. His pace was brutal, overwhelming, yet perfect.

“I can feel how close you are.” he muttered against your core. “You gonna come already? Hm?”

A string of broken cries left your lips as your hips bucked against his face. He held you down firmly, tipping you over the edge with a deep suck to your clit that sent your vision blurring.

You came with a gasp, voice catching in your throat as your body flooded with pleasure. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and whimpering from the overstimulation, trying to push him away.

Only then did he pull back, licking his lips with a smug grin like he hadn’t just completely ruined you. “Still hate me?” he asked, voice low and hoarse as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You blinked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, as your lips hung open, unable to speak— because the truth was, you didn’t even know anymore.

Your breathing was still uneven, body trembling from the sensitivity when Jiyong stood slowly, towering over you like he owned every inch of you. His eyes were dark, hungry— but calculated. Like he had more in store.

“You think we’re done, baby?” he asked, voice low and commanding, tugging your jaw up to meet his gaze.

Before you could even answer, he gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. His grip was tight, possessive—but beneath it, you caught a flicker of desperation. Like he was afraid of losing you more than anything.

You heard the faint clink of something metal before you felt the cool press of leather circling your wrists. He strapped you to the headboard with deliberate care, then tugged on your arms a couple times, making sure you couldn’t move.

“Jiyong,” you whispered, testing the restraints, “What are you—”

“Shh.” He kissed your temple. “You okay? Are you comfortable with this?” he asked, eyes still on the belt as he pulled it snug.

Nodding quickly, Jiyong made a low ‘tsk’ sound as he shook his head. “Gotta use your words, baby.”

“Yes, please touch me, Jiyong.” you breathed.

A dark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s my good girl.” He reached into his back pocket and, to your surprise, pulled out a small, familiar knife. Your body tensed, heart pounding in your chest. Not from fear— from thrill.

“You know I’d never hurt you” he murmured, dragging the blunt edge of the blade down the center of your stomach— slow, teasing, just like the other times. “I just like watching you squirm.”

The cold steel drew along your skin, just enough to make you shiver. Then, it slipped beneath the bridge of your bra. With one clean flick, he sliced it straight down the middle— fabric popping loose, freeing your boobs like they’d been trapped for too long.

You gasped, nipples hardening at the air hitting them. Jiyong returned to your neck once again, hands wandering all around your body as if he were admiring a work of art.

“Spread.” he said as he lifted himself from your body, not raising his voice. You obeyed, opening your legs to display yourself for him under the dim lights.

“Look at that,” he whispered, letting the ice cold blade trail up the inside of your thigh lightly. “You let me back in after everything— and now you’re dripping for me.”

He tossed the knife aside safely, then leaned in, his lips brushing your neck as his fingers slid between your legs. But instead of giving you what you wanted, he hovered, traced, toyed.

One finger pressed in, achingly slow— then out. You felt so embarrassingly empty, like there was nothing but air in your body. You whimpered, pulling against your restraints. “Please, Jiyong… please.”

He kissed your throat, open-mouthed and slow, tongue dragging against your pulse. His mouth left wet trails on your skin, giving you goosebumps from the cold air clashing with it.

“You don’t get to come,” he whispered, lips against your ear, “not until I say so. Not until I’ve fucked the memory of any life without me out of that pretty little head.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how much you wanted that.

He moved between your thighs and dragged his tongue through your folds— slow, precise, agonizing. Every movement was calculated, every groan from his throat deliberate— all to make his teasing that much more unbearable.

“You sound so pretty for me.” he spoke, slipping two fingers inside you and curling them just right. “You always do.”

As you stretched out by his thick fingers, your moans increased in volume. And when your body started to tighten; hips twitching, breath turning shallow— he pulled away again.

You cried out, frustrated, desperate.

He leaned over you, rubbing slow circles on your clit with maddening restraint, just enough to edge you again and again. “Not yet,” he warned with a smirk. “You wanna come, baby? You’re going to earn it.”

Even knowing how wrong it was, you still wanted him— wanted this. You weren’t giving in, you were choosing it. Nodding quickly, your voice nearly broke as you pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Please.”

“Good,” he said, kissing your bound wrists. “Then stay just like that.”

Fondling with the button on his jeans, he unfastened his pants, dragging them down along with his boxers simultaneously. His cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen with a wet, heavy sound that made your mouth go dry.

He stroked himself once, twice— slow and controlled, eyes locked on you the entire time. “You see what you do to me?” he asked, voice rough, teasing. “You’ve been teasing me too, princess. All those days without texting me… acting like I didn’t exist.”

He climbed over you again, the head of his cock dragging through your soaked folds but never pushing in. Just enough to make you squirm in desperation.

“But now I’ve got you tied to your bed,” he whispered, lining himself up and gripping your hips. “Now you’re mine again.”

He ran the thick head of his cock through your folds once again, gathering every drop of your slick, making you shiver as he teased your entrance. He didn’t rush it. He took his time— dragging the tip up and down, groaning low in his throat as you whimpered beneath him.

When he finally pushed in, it wasn’t aggressive, he had just the right amount of force that made your eyes water.

A steady, stretching pressure that had your back arching, mouth falling open. He eased in inch by inch, watching every expression wash across your face, his hand rubbing gentle circles into your thigh to ground you.

“That’s it, good job, love.” he muttered, voice rough. “Taking me so well.”

Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you just a second to adjust— his hand running soothingly over your stomach, your wrists still bound above you, completely at his mercy.

Then he pulled out halfway and thrust back in, harder this time, setting a rhythm that was rough enough to leave you gasping, but not enough to hurt. Every thrust was deep yet controlled, performed to drive you crazy, not break you.

“You feel that?” he growled into your ear, hips slamming into yours with a sharp snap. “Every inch of me inside you, stretching you open. You were made for me.”

You moaned helplessly, legs trembling as he kept going, his grip on your thighs tightening just enough to anchor you in place, to let you know you weren’t going anywhere.

“Say it,” he demanded, voice breathless against your neck. “Say who you belong to.” He dipped down to place wet kisses on your chest, tongue drawing patterns on your skin.

“Fuck— You, Jiyong. Im all yours.” You whined, throat going dry as you struggled to get your words out. Jiyong let out a satisfied hum as he kept going, hips snapping into you even faster.

Tears of overwhelming pleasure welled in your eyes as he hit the spot that drove you wild. Suddenly, he lifted your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest.

The new angle pushed him even deeper inside you as you cried out in pleasure. You tugged at your restraints as he pounded into you relentlessly.

The sound of the headboard knocking against the wall echoed through the room, but you barely registered it. Your focus was on Jiyong— on the way his body moved against yours like he knew you inside and out, like this was the only place you belonged; beneath and completely giving yourself to him.

Your thighs trembled against his hips, legs still folded against your chest as he buried himself deeper, over and over, with an overwhelming rhythm. Your wrists ached in their restraints, every ounce of control you once had belonged to him now.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice low and dark as his thumb traces firm circles on your clit. “Falling apart just because I’m inside you. Crying for me, begging for me... this is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You whimpered, nodding as your back arched again. The burn in your stomach was unbearable, once again feeling that your pressure in your core. You were close, and he could feel it.

“Not yet,” Jiyong hissed against your ear, slowing down just enough to make you sob out of frustration. “Not until I say so.”

“Please— please, Jiyong,” you choked out, tears slipping down your temples as your body trembled under him. “I can’t... I need to—”

He cut you off with a sharp kiss, biting down on your lower lip before pulling away. “You can. And you will— for me.”

Then, without warning, he shifted his grip, pulled out almost completely, and slammed back into you hard enough to pull the breath from your lungs. Again, then again.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a flood. It ripped through your body with an intensity you hadn’t felt in months— your muscles clenching, vision blurring, cries spilling freely from your lips.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice thick and hoarse now as he chased his own high. “That’s it. Just like that.”

After a few more brutal thrusts, his climax followed. Jiyong's head dropped against your neck, breath hot against your skin as his body tensed above yours.

The room fell silent, filled with your combined panting rather than words. The sheets tangled beneath your bodies like evidence of everything you promised yourself you wouldn't do again.

A heavy ache settled in your chest as reality began to return, creeping in through the cracks his touch temporarily sealed shut. You looked up at the ceiling, wrists still tied, lips swollen, heart pounding for reasons far beyond lust.

After a few minutes, Jiyong finally moved. He slid out of bed without saying a word, pulling on his boxers before disappearing into the connected bathroom. The sound of water running filled the silence, and for a brief moment, you thought maybe he was going to leave.

But he didn’t.

The water shut off, and not long after, he returned— shirtless, damp hair pushed back, a wet washcloth in one hand and one of his oversized shirts in the other.

Without a word, he climbed back onto the bed, gently untying your wrists before wiping you down with the warm cloth. The soft heat of it contrasted with the cool air and the sting still lingering on your skin. He moved slowly, carefully— like he hadn’t just torn you open in every way imaginable.

“Too much?” he asked softly.

You shook your head. “No. It’s what I needed.” Sometimes, you hated how tender he was afterward— how it made your chest hurt in a different way. But this time you felt yourself melting into his touch, as if he were healing all your problems.

After cleaning you up, he helped you into the shirt, his fingers brushing your hips as he slid it over your arms. You winced slightly when the fabric grazed a sore spot, and he stilled, eyes flicking to yours.

“Sorry” he whispered, rubbing your skin with his hands softly to ease the pain

You managed a small smile. “It’s okay, I’ll feel better soon.”

Once you were dressed, Jiyong laid beside you again. The space between you was small but felt so much bigger. The silence was heavy with things neither of you knew how to say.

Your eyes wandered toward your ruined bra, the torn fabric laying limp near the edge of the bed. You gave Jiyong a sharp look.

He caught it immediately, smirking faintly as he leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t worry, jagi,” he said. “I’ll buy you five more.”

After the storm of lust passed, he traced circles on your back softly. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, voice raw and honest. You wanted to believe him, and for a moment, you did.

Unfortunately, you both knew that tomorrow, nothing would be fixed. Nothing would be different. Yet here you were again, wrapped in the same cycle.

He knew how much power he had. The way he kissed you like a promise, only to vanish like a ghost. He always came back. And you always let him.

Neither of you spoke, but the silence said enough.

When you looked at him, neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew. This cycle would repeat, no matter how much you wished it wouldn’t.

You hated him and you hated how happy you were to let him in, but most of all— you hated how you still loved him.

taglist: @breakmeoff @steponupbabe @tabibabib @mintymuse @heartubeatusalon @sternilei @julseysmel

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