#i need to come up with a tag for this au eventually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lily-bisque · 13 days ago

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ＷＡＹＯＵＴＴＨＥＲＥ 𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

volume one — womb

✦ ── pairing: lumberjack!sukuna x citygirl!reader

✦ ── synopsis: taking a hike, alone, in a massive forest to escape your mundane life may not have been the greatest idea you'd conjured up—a realization you'd come to soon after you managed to lose your map miles inland. but when a lumberjack who knows the land like the back of his hand offers you a place to stay, you think maybe your life isn't so tragic after all. besides, for the sake of your safety, who knows what lingers in the shadows after nightfall?

✦ ── contents: lost in the forest au, forced proximity, bantering, angst, trauma/torture aspects, minor injuries, eventual romance, eventual smut, no use of y/n, more tags to be added.

✦ ── a/n: so. this was supposed to be my 1k special but i have no sense of restraint and desperately wanted to release this. enjoy my food. also check out the playlist for the curated mood and for a forehead kiss.

✦ ── word count: 3.9k

archive ─ playlist

series masterlist - volume two

art by outdmilk on twt

“This was a horrible idea.”

There was a sharp piercing pain in your ankle, due to you brushing it against a shrub, thus prickling it against a rather pointed thorn.

You scowled under your breath, pivoting on the ball of your foot to take a look at the injury just beneath your sock before adjusting the cloth and standing upright.

Your back was miserably sore, sweat clung to you like a second skin, your calves burned as if they were combustible, and worst of all—you were starving.

You felt as if you couldn’t thoroughly enjoy the scenery of the forest anymore—no longer stopping to listen to the throaty croaking of frogs, the wind sliding and slipping between the narrow trees, nor the occasional snap of twigs from skittish wildlife.

It smelled of sun-warmed rock and wet earth, your heart thrumming and yearning for a connection with Mother Earth after months spent cooped up in the city and at home.

Adjusting your rucksack resting on your back, carrying everything you needed—which was far too much for a day hike—you continued on your trek.

For a lack of better wording, you were a noob. You lacked any sort of experience with the woodlands but you believed there was no better time to start than now! Especially since life has managed to feel duller more than ever recently.

Fallen branches snapped underfoot, the tickle of overgrown weeds brushing your bottoms. The sun filtered through the leaves, beading down on you. Your only reprieve was your wide-brimmed hat and the somewhat forgiving breeze.

Pulling the now-crinkled sheet of paper with directions from your pocket, you unfurled it and spun it around, glancing at your compass while you did so.

The map you’d found online and ultimately printed was telling you that you still had quite the walk until the nearest exit route, at least a couple of hours ahead of you, and you knew you couldn’t continue on in this condition, sore in every spot you could imagine and more.

You were severely out of shape due to your sedentary lifestyle.

But how much of a choice did you have? You needed to get out of here before nightfall or else you’d be stalking around in the dark.

You wiped the sweat from your furrowed brow line in a harried manner before starting up your pace again, repeating ‘mind over matter’ to yourself like a mantra.

Unexpectedly and commendably, the sound of gentle trickling and splashes broke you from your focused state, your head snapping in that direction.

It was steady, and light. You hoped it was what you needed. It couldn’t be too far from here.

You followed the sound, hastening your pace as the sounds increased in volume, until you stood before a large creek. Birds sploshed and called to each other across the stream, rocks falling and breaking the surface with an audible plop!

You could feel your heart settle to a relieved murmur, a sudden idea popping into your mind that you couldn’t shake off.

You hadn’t seen anyone for miles, the forest around you dulled to its loneliness.

No one would notice if you went for a quick swim, right? Besides, if you were in better condition after a cooldown, you’d make it out of here before nightfall. Possibly. You hoped.

Shivering the thought off, you began to strip, tossing your bag to the floor and marking the stream on your map before resting it atop a pile of fallen leaves.

Your clothing stuck uncomfortably to you, and you contorted your expression in displeasure as you bared yourself to your undergarments. You would’ve preferred if you could scrub your outfit clean in the stream, but you had no place to hang them to dry nearby or any time to do so as this was just a day hike—so you tossed them upon a rock, clad in your cotton set, before stepping into the water.

It was freezing cold and clear, the moss-slicked rocks resting against the bottom catching your eye. There were small minnows making laps to and fro the sides of the creek, dragonflies humming just above the surface, and squirrels stopping to take a sip due to the sweltering heat.

You wrapped your hands around your bare self, slightly shivering, but also grateful for the cooling temperature.

Soon enough, you settled, laying your head back in the water and feeling it soak your roots for a moment, allowing your thrumming headache inflicted by the unforgiving heat come to a rest.

You then curled your arms, swimming deeper until you could see slightly larger fish, slipping against your bare calves and tickling you. You giggled, splashing water upon your face and releasing a sigh of content. Playing like a child.

Until you glanced over at your bag, a flutter of beige catching your attention.

Your map was currently flying in the opposite direction, flipping and turning against the ground and being sent deeper into the woodland.

Fucking great.

You gasped, eyes wide in shock as your pulse picked up, swimming towards the edge of the water frantically.

You crawled and clawed at soil, dirt clinging to your wet skin as you got to your feet, mottled green and brown painting you like a blank canvas.

“No, no, no!” You yelped in denial, your feet picking up as you raced to it, hopping over branches and rocks that were sure to break some bone if you didn't slow down. But it seemed to only fly away further, impossibly far out of your reach, the breeze actively working against you.

However, your exclaims were picked up by someone else in the forest.

As you raced to the map, you could hear the sound of pressure hitting dirt behind you in a consistent pat! before barking sounded in your ears.

A gasp left your lips as your head spun behind you, a blurry fluff of white hurtling towards you, full-throttle.

Your priorities changed drastically in the moment—a shrill yelp leaving your lips as you sprinted down the forest in just your underwear, a sense of doom sent up your spine.

You were being chased down, probably to your demise. What a pathetic way to go out—flailing in the woods, half-naked, entirely alone besides your attacker.

Your voice caught in your throat, vocal cords frozen in fear, unable to call for help.

Yet, someone heard your silent pleas.

“Uraume, down!” A gruff voice sounded, followed by the click of a tongue and a commanding whistle.

The onslaught stopped instantly, peering past your shoulder to see the white shepherd-dog sitting proudly, tongue flailing and panting as if it hadn’t just tried to eat you.

Okay. Realistically, it probably wouldn’t have eaten you as it is a dog that looks surprisingly domesticated. But how else does someone react when an unfamiliar animal starts sprinting at them?

You craned your head towards the sound of that gruff voice before you saw a tall man emerge from behind a thick sequoia trunk.

He was massive, probably nearing seven feet, towering over you.

His eyes caught yours, ducking his cowboy-styled hat once taking notice of your nude form before quickly turning his back to you. He was clad in a red buffalo-plaid shirt, thick washed-out jeans, a brown and curved hat, and chunky brown and sturdy boots.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, ma’am. You alright?” He questioned, giving you only a sliver of his side-profile to view. You could make out thick, black lines across it making your stomach clench in steadily rising trepidation. You’d never seen anything like it.

Your hands flew to cover yourself, as if the man hadn’t already turned his back to you. “No! I am not as your mutt just chased me,” you spat out, surprised at how unlike yourself you sounded, though your voice was actively quivering in fear. Should you be yelling at this strange man?

“I see,” he exhaled, though you could hear the faintest amusement lingering in his tone at your exasperated state, somehow already starting to piss you off. “I believe you startled them.”

Your nose scrunched as you scowled deeply. “Excuse me? I– Who exactly are you?”

The man huffed, pushing air from his nose. “Sukuna. I’ve got a better question, though—who are you and why are you naked?”

You clenched your teeth, feeling your morals slide against each other before relaying your name. “I am naked because your dog chased me!”

You didn’t care that that didn’t make much sense.

Sukuna adjusted in his stead, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he stared ahead before taking a peep back at you. You gasped, grabbing a nearby twig and throwing it at him.

He directed his gaze away quickly at your outburst, barely able to conceal his pleasure in riling up this strange woman, not even flinching when the branch bounced off of his back. “So you’re saying the real reason you’re flailing naked in the woods is because of my dog…?”

You bit your tongue, holding back a slew of curses before taking a reluctant step back, twigs underfoot digging into your heel. “Well, no but…”

He grunted, shoving his hands into his pocket before nodding. “Alright, then. I’ll be on my way out, ma’am. You have a splendid au naturel evening,” he chuckled, cocking his head at his dog, Uraume, who barked in excitement.

They sprinted towards Sukuna, the large man squatting to ruffle their hair before making his way in the opposite direction of you.

You peered behind you, hands still lazily covering your form, to see your map had finally slowed, maybe the breeze was forgiving.

Hurrying over to it with a grin, you now see why it was motionless.

It was face down in a puddle of mud–drenched and entirely illegible.

Your heart dropped at the sight, blood and smile draining from your face, realizing you needed some sort of plan to get yourself out of this.

But your only plan was brown and soaking wet, save for the rude and burly man you’d encountered moments ago.

Fuck.

You hated that you had to even consider this, but your survival instincts and sense of urgency ultimately won over your ego.

“Wait!” You called out, seeing him a few hundred feet in front of you. His massive legs carried him far with ease.

He paused, not fully turning around but enough to signal that he took notice of your call.

Once you stopped close behind him, chest heaving with either chasing after him or your flooding embarrassment, you bit your lip before speaking. “Are you from around here?”

He paused, eyes narrowing. “These parts? Yeah, I live here.”

You released a small sigh of relief. Alright, that’s a solid start. “Do you think you could, I dunno, give me any directions out of here?”

Sukuna placed a hand against his hip, with the other pulling a box of cigarettes from his pocket and placing one in his mouth, back still facing you. “Mind lighting this for me?”

You could barely conceal your agitation, a sense of urgency tugging at you as you were quite literally naked in a forest with a strange man, night falling soon. “I’m sorry?”

“You need my help, I need yours. So be a darling and help a guy out, my hands have been sore all afternoon.”

He was lying. He was so obviously lying to your face.

You scoffed incredulously, feeling a sudden shiver wrack your body from the wind cooling your skin. Sukuna seemed to be toying with you, for whatever reason you couldn’t understand.

What joy did he get in harassing a helpless, naked lady in the woods?

But he had you stumped. As much as you hated this entire ordeal, you needed his assistance to get the hell out of here and return to your reality.

So you mustered up all of your courage, taking a few reluctant steps towards him. You could see the sleazy grin on his face once he’d realized you had surrendered, the quiet falls of your feet against the leaves evidence of your resignation as he hadn’t glanced at you yet.

“Hand over the lighter,” you grit out through a clenched jaw.

“My pleasure,” he honeyed out, dipping his head towards you with shut eyes, his massive palm outstretched, a bed for his silver lighter.

You were finally able to get a proper look at his face.

Tight lines etched his face, littered with a few scars, most likely from years of work of whatever it is he did in the woodlands. You also got a closer view of the tattoos marking his face, a weird juxtaposition to a man living in a forest, making you wonder what the story behind them was.

But what stood out to you the most was his pink-colored hair–something you’d never come across in all of your years.

“Done gaping?” He smirked, eyes closed despite how assured he sounded knowing you were staring.

“Shut up,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing the lighter from his massive hand that seemed to dwarf yours, rubbing your thumb against the spark wheel.

You watched it light up, holding it up to the butt of the cigarette and watched as it burned, ashes fluttering into the air.

He returned to his full height, snagging the lighter from your hand with ease and shoving his hands into his pockets, turning his back to you once more.

“You’ve got three options,” he ruled, pulling the cigarette from his lips and inhaling sharply, before pushing it out of his nose. “One, stay here and figure your own way out, and probably die. Two, you can listen to the directions I point you in… andddd probably die since you clearly don’t know your way around. The wolves here tend to get real hungry,” he snarled, wanting to get a reaction from you.

You rolled your eyes, bristling at his demeanor and the scent of smoke, fingers drumming impatiently on your biceps as you folded your arms. “Alright, I get it. What’s the last option where I hopefully don’t meet an early demise?”

His head dropped, almost smugly, thinking about something absolutely hilarious. “You can come stay with me.”

You let out a bark of laughter. “Funny. What’s the actual last option?”

He didn’t respond, simply taking another hit from his cigarette, and you could feel your stomach clench.

“Okay. Where’s the nearest inn?”

“An inn in the middle of the woods?” He asked as if that was the stupidest question in the world.

You grit your teeth. “And no one else lives up here?”

He nodded.

You inhaled sharply. “With all due respect, Sukuna,” you started, swallowing the bile rising in your throat. “I don’t spend the night with random and strange men I come across in the woods, unlike most apparently.”

“Well, I gave you your options. I’m not gonna force you to do nothin’,” he coolly spoke, before lowering his voice. “But be warned. This forest ain’t a place a little lady like you wants to poke around at dusk.”

You shivered at his admission, fingernails pressing crescents into your biceps. “...What happens after nightfall?”

He chuckled low, making your skin crawl, and it wasn’t thanks to the breeze.

“Wanna stay and find out for yourself?”

𖠰 ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

He’d allowed you the space of getting changed in private, back resting against a tree trunk and still facing away from you as he idly flicked the cap of his lighter on and off, the constant sound of metal meeting metal in the nearby distance.

You weren’t quite sure if he was doing it out of habit, or if it was some sort of unspoken signal to ease your worries that he hadn’t decided to ditch you to fend for yourself.

It was most likely the former, you could tell from one look the guy was a heartless brute. Probably why he lived in the woods.

But did he live alone here? Or did he have a docile wife and seven children ready to welcome you with open arms by the time you made your way up the trail?

After getting fully dressed, you shuffled your socks on before you let out a loud hiss—a sudden piercing pressure on your ankle.

Gently setting your sock down, you sat atop a nearby rock and crossed your legs to take a closer look.

It seemed that the thorn that poked you earlier had done more than just that—the area swelling and red. The spot, previously a microscope hole, had grown and was practically glowing and exuding a heat.

You pressed a finger against it, immediately regretting it when it sent pain spiking through your veins, the skin bulbous.

“You’re not making it out of the forest any time soon in that condition.”

You yelped with a jump, full-body flinching and swinging your head behind you to see Sukuna towering over you, eyes narrowed to slits as he eyed your injury. “Jesus. Warn a woman next time?”

He ignored you, something you’ve noticed he has a habit of doing, as he folded in half, skimming a hand over your puncture wound. A tight whimper left your lips, his calloused finger pad ghosting over it before he straightened out. “Can you walk on it?”

You attempted to pull the sock back over before you winced, heart fluttering in nerves. “I-I can try,” you stammered out, trying to maneuver it carefully before he clicked his tongue.

“Fuck, alright,” he grunted, as if mulling something over before he stepped in front of you. He crouched down on one knee, jeans digging into the mud yet he didn’t seem to care. “Hop on.”

Your maw fell slack at the sight, suddenly feeling incredibly hot at the sight. This crude and ruffish man was offering to carry you all of the sudden.

“Uh, i-it’s alright. I can walk–”

“Quit your rambling and get on.”

You shut up at his interruption, muttering a ‘rude much?’ he didn’t acknowledge under your breath before standing to a wobble, doing your best not to bump your ankle into anything as the pain began to flare to what felt like your bones.

Oddly enough, he was practically your height on his knees, his massive form slightly intimidating you.

You brought your hands over his shoulders and clasped them in front of him, hoping he couldn’t smell the musk radiating from your sweat-soaked clothing.

As you tried to wrap your legs around his midsection, he suddenly rose, wrapping his massive hands along the underside of your thighs and straightening to his full height.

You did everything to ignore the flip of your stomach as he did so, the touch burning your skin.

Something sizzled in your mind, before you realized how leggy this man actually was. “Could make a joke about the weather up here, but it’s really quite nice,” you snickered, head ducking between his hat, cheek right beside his, as your eyes raked over his bird's eye view.

“Shut it or I’m dropping you.”

Raising your hand around his face, you made a show of zipping your mouth closed to which he huffed at, effectively blocking his vision.

He made rounds picking up the things you’d managed to drop across the creek, stuffing them into your bag and pretending not to see the spare panties you’d brought along as you averted your gaze awkwardly, a heat rising from the back of your neck.

He carried your bag in one hand like it weighed nothing before whistling at his dog who managed to disappear somewhere in the woods some time ago. Moments later, Uraume came panting back, a stick in their mouth and wagging their tail.

“Later, Uraume. Let’s go home.”

The dog let out a whistling whine at the buzzword of ‘home,’ realizing their owner was not going to play fetch with them, before coming to Sukuna’s side.

You found it quite endearing to see the massive and huffy man have a furry friend, biting your lip when you found yourself grinning.

𖠰 ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

“Are you going to kill me and bury me where no one can find me?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He clearly was not one for humor.

𖠰 ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

The walk back was oddly comfortable, the two of you trekking up a narrow path as the sun began to set, listening to the ambience of nature—the whooshing of the eolian wind, the groans of the trees, and the calls of wildlife.

You’d attempted to break the silence on a couple of occasions, but was only met with snippy or short replies, effectively shutting you up.

But the silence wasn’t unsettling, it was… easy.

You just hoped that this man was what he let on, wondering how long it’d take authorities to find your corpse if he was a madman considering how far inland you’d made it.

If they found your body.

You shivered at the thought.

“You cold?” He asked, breaking you from your thoughts, voice low and hoarse as he focused ahead of him.

“Oh, no. Actually the opposite. I’m– FUCK!”

You screeched louder than you’d meant to, eyes shutting tight as tears nearly began to flow down your cheeks, a sudden piercing pain in your ankle.

Sukuna froze, glancing down to your injury to see he’d brushed your ankle against a branch that was hanging low, his heart sinking at the sight. “Fuck.”

You bit your lip, holding back any cries as you tried to steady your ragged and shallow breaths, feeling lightheaded from the intense pain.

“I barely saw it…” he trailed off in a whispered tone, eyes wide as his fingers gripped your thighs tighter, feeling an intense wave of regret seeing your ankle swell even more.

“Just watch where you’re fucking going,” you gritted out, teeth clenched as your fingers curled in the leather of his jacket, feeling your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull and pass out.

“Right.” He curtly spoke, adjusting you on his back by lifting you and continuing on.

Once the pain subsided, something heavy settled in your chest. By Sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how rude you must’ve come off in your state of pain, mouth speaking before you could think.

Something apologetic itched at you, biting your tongue at his stifling silence, still moving forward without a word instead of ditching you like you probably deserved. You should apologize, right? You sounded incredibly ungrateful. He’d gone to so much of an effort to help you, receiving nothing in return.

Unless he was planning to kill you, of course, but you brushed that off.

You drew in air. “Hey, Sukuna. Uh, I just wanna–”

He froze, stopping in his tracks immediately before glancing around. Then he peered up quickly, glancing at how the sun was nearly about to fall.

“...Sukuna?”

“Shut up.”

You knitted your eyebrows immediately, head bouncing back in offense. “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re–”

“Shut the fuck up for five seconds. We’re not alone,” he spat out in a hushed tone, head glancing towards you for emphasis.

You could feel yourself turn defensive in record time, scoffing incredulously with a chuckle. You opened your mouth to fire back something snappy, barely registering what he said, when you, too, heard it.

There was a quiet growl, you easily would’ve missed it had he not said anything, and subtle crunches of leaves near you.

You hadn’t even noticed Uraume, who’d been following you this entire time, began to whine, ears flopping downwards and flanking close to Sukuna.

He was right. You weren’t alone.

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

#teepods.writings #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #rich boy! au

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andypantsx3 · 1 month ago

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SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 7 | SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 4.2k of est. 31k, 7th of 8 chapters NOTES: For @honehonn3honey, for reminding me how much I love this AU and inspiring me to hurry up and finish this chapter.

Shouto’s mouth was warm and soft, and he tasted like salt.

He was many other things too—many lovely, wonderful, absolutely delicious other things—but you hardly had the brain power to think them, too focused on the way his lips moved over yours, the way his tongue teased along yours.

You heard yourself let out a muffled noise of pleasure, shifting nearer. His chest was so warm and firm under your hand, and you felt clawed fingers gently tangle in your hair. Shouto carefully cupped the back of your head to pull you closer, and you could feel the restrained strength in the movement. It made you shiver and curl into him tighter.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, and then his hands were on your waist, tugging you insistently over him until you were perched in his lap. His scales brushed against the inside of your thigh, strangely smooth and shockingly warm. It made your brain fog to feel him against you like this, the firmness and heat of him.

There was also the utter strangeness of him, too. You had never kissed someone with such sharp teeth, or claws, or a strength you were beginning to suspect was terribly beyond human. But Shouto was gentle, attentive. His thumb smoothed along your jaw, carefully angling his claws away, his other hand pressing you down onto him.

He made every one of your thoughts slur and slide together, and you were so distracted you barely heard the series of taps on your door.

A cold spike of panic stabbed through you when the noise resolved itself into the sound of someone knocking. You shot up, nearly bashing Shouto in the mouth, and scrambled off of him.

“Uh—! Coming!” you yelled to your visitor, hurriedly yanking the comforter out of its nearly tucked corners, and rucking it up over as much of Shouto as you could. Shouto looked a little dazed, his mouth flushed from your kisses. It took him a minute to realize what you were doing, pulling it on over his tail. He looked equal parts mystified, ruffled, and concerned, and it was actually so cute you could have kissed him again—but now was not the time.

You gestured at him to stay in bed and stay quiet, then hurried to the door.

Yu stood on the other side of it, raising a pert blonde brow when you only cracked it a tiny bit to peer out.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, trying to look past you. You wedged yourself more bodily into the opening, trying to block her view.

“What—uh. What would you be interrupting?” you said quickly. “Did you, um, need something?”

Yu looked at you for a long minute, her hair ruffling softly in the sea breeze. “I came to see if you were feeling any better. And Death Arms says we’re leaving at eight thirty for Sunfish.”

Your brain was so muddled from the combination of Shouto’s kisses and your sheer panic that it took you a long moment to remember what Sunfish even was.

“Oh!” you said stupidly, nodding quickly. “Yeah, Sunfish. I will be ready then. And I’m definitely feeling better, thank you for checking on me.”

Yu’s eyes again darted past you into your room. A sly smile pulled at her mouth. “I bet you are.”

You stood up ramrod straight in your panic. There was no way she could know.

You garbled out a strangled-sounding goodbye, waving her off and ushering her quickly off your porch. You lingered in the doorway, not daring to move an inch until she disappeared into her own bungalow, then turned back to Shouto.

He looked so handsome spread out in your sheets, mouth swollen from your kisses, but you knew you were running too much of a risk to climb back over him and make good on the promises that had underlaid his kiss. Not now that Yu had come calling.

You sighed, scrubbing a hand along your face. “I’ve got to get you back down to the beach before she remembers something else. And we’ll need to talk about what…this just was more after Sunfish.” You valiantly fought down the flush that threatened to rise to your cheeks.

Shouto’s beautiful mouth turned down, but he nodded, blinking long and slow. “I will answer anything you wish to ask.”

You thought you’d probably need a little more time and space to come up with a coherent list of questions, your head swimming with the memory of his lips on yours. You vaguely remembered something about mating rituals, and you did not have the brainpower to think through all that right now.

“I’ll come meet you tomorrow?” you asked instead.

Shouto nodded, eyes pinned on you intently. You resisted the impulse to lean back down to him.

You grabbed a handle of the wheelbarrow instead and pushed it closer to the bed for him to climb back into, studiously ignoring the sinuous flex of his muscles as he slithered back in. You shoved the tarp back over him too, then poked your head out the door to make sure Yu wasn’t skulking about again before wheeling Shouto carefully back out the front door.

Shouto was unusually quiet on the journey back to the beach, and you couldn’t think of anything to say either that wouldn’t reveal just how much you wanted to turn around and wheel him back into your bungalow.

You slowly guided him down to the water instead, pushing him in until the waves gently lapped at your thighs, sloshing up over the sides of the wheelbarrow.

It was then that Shouto turned back to you, surprising you as he reached out a clawed hand. His fingers brushed ever so gently over your mouth, igniting another hot wave of something under your skin.

“Good night,” he murmured, his voice strangely deep. His eyes seemed glued to your mouth, and you could feel even the tips of your ears getting hot.

You nodded, cringing when your own “goodnight” came out far too breathy.

But that seemed to satisfy Shouto, the corner of his mouth flicking up. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip once more, with a little bit more intention than before. Your skin tingled, and you held yourself very still under his touch, willing your knees not to give out on you.

Slowly, Shouto drew his hand back to himself, and nodded, looking gratified. “I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, in his soft tone.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

And with that, Shouto slid out of the wheelbarrow into the water and disappeared into the dark sea.

Morning found you on the step to Yu’s bungalow, the early morning wind raising goose bumps along your skin. Fat clouds drifted lazily across the sky, and the palms rustled sleepily in the breeze.

When Yu poked her head out, you could tell she was not at all pleased to see you, blinking sleepily with her hair still mussed on one side.

“I’m sorry—did I wake you?” you asked. The crew was set to leave at eight thirty for Sunfish, as she’d informed you the night before, and you’d thought she’d be up already, getting ready.

She waved a hand at you to gesture you in, yawning. “I was up, just regretting my choice of career over a cup of coffee.”

You laughed nervously, following her into the room and shutting the door behind you. Her room looked like a tropical hurricane had torn through it, an explosion of clothes draped over every surface and her luggage laying open, as if ransacked, in convenient tripping locations.

“I had something I needed to show you, before we go to Sunfish,” you said, trying to not let your eyes linger too long on the mess.

Yu grunted, grabbing a brush off the bedside table and yanking it through her blonde mess of hair. She was still in sleep shorts and a pink button-up pajama top. There was no way she’d actually been up before you knocked.

“What is it, kid?” she asked absently, moving over to one of the open suitcases.

Your hand slipped into the pocket of your windbreaker, closing in on the vial you’d filled with the samples of coral from the lagoon.

“It’s—I’ve found something. While exploring the island,” you started slowly, watching her dig through her things with her foot while she finished off her hair with her hands.

She gave a sidelong glance as if gesturing for you to continue.

“There’s this lagoon, towards the northern side of the island,” you said.

Yu’s brows scrunched. “I don’t remember setting up at any lagoon.”

You shook your head. “It’s not accessible by boat. There is—or, was, a small underwater channel to get inside, under one of the cliffs. But it’s been dammed off.”

Yu finally stopped looking through her things, turning to you to give you her full attention. “Dammed off?”

You nodded. “A huge strip of metal plating. It looks recent and it’s definitely intentional—it’s drilled right into the rock. And um, the lagoon is not doing too well.” You pulled your hand from your pocket, laying out the samples of coral on her sitting table.

“The coral there is entirely bleached, and I’ve found traces of industrial processing chemicals after testing in the lab, most concerningly what looks like formalin. There’s a pipeline that looks new as well, dumping everything out into the lagoon. I didn’t trace it back as it’s too small to climb into, and it disappears underground a little ways away from the lagoon. But I think it’s most definitely Sunfish.”

Yu’s eyebrows nearly shot into her hairline. “Well well. You’ve been a busy girl.”

Your stomach churned. You couldn’t tell if she was pleased you’d taken the initiative, or annoyed you were only now looping her in.

“I’m sorry for not telling you first,” you said.

Yu watched you for a long moment, before a devious sort of smile touched her mouth. “Your beach boy help you find it?”

Your stomach lurched then, a motion like it was trying to throw itself right through the wall of your skin. “My—what?” you gasped, catching her sitting chair for balance.

There was no way she’d seen Shouto in your room last night, despite her obvious suspicions. You’d made sure you’d blocked up the entire doorway.

Yu looked smug. “Next time you answer the door after rolling around with someone, you might wanna take a look at your mouth and hair first.”

Your face flamed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Yu just gave you a knowing look. “Red and white hair? Biceps like a Greek god? That ring any bells for you? If I hadn’t seen you out in the water with him the other night I would have almost believed you. But you were so obvious last night too.”

Your heart rate picked up, launching into a sprint. She’d seen Shouto! And she’d seen what he’d done to you!

You were simultaneously horrified and gratified—at least he wasn’t an insanely handsome figment of your overactive imagination. But you thought you’d been so careful! Had she seen any more than she should have?

Yu waved you off, laughing at the look of horror you knew was dawning on your face. “Relax, it’s not illegal to get friendly with the locals.”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat. “It’s not—I wasn’t—”

She padded over her sitting table, picking up the vial of coral samples. “You mind if I check this and log it before we head out?”

You fumbled, unnerved by the sudden change in conversational direction. “I—of course.”

Yu tossed her hair over her shoulder, then went back to her suitcase, digging through it with greater purpose. “If what you’re saying is true, we’ll want a paper trail showing we had this sample before setting foot on Sunfish property. Then we can get one there and see if it matches. That will be enough for local government to issue a search warrant and we can see if your pipeline really does link back.”

A shocked little thrill went through you. If that was true, you were close to closing this case out. The thought of leaving Shouto behind made you feel a little sick, but you quickly pushed it down.

You would talk to him later, once Sunfish was dealt with. And it wasn’t like you could delay. Sunfish was a danger to the local environment, and that included Shouto as well.

You’d rather have him alive and alone than sick and saddled with you.

“Take these to the lab and set everything up for me. I’ll be there when I’m done getting dressed,” Yu told you, flapping her hand at your coral samples again.

You nodded, grabbing them off the table. “Should I tell the rest of the team too?”

“Mmm,” she grunted. “They don’t know we know, but it will be good to have Death Arms cover for us in case we need to sample something they might not like. Make sure he, Kamui, and Masaki are up to speed.”

You dutifully went to the door, wrenching it open to step back out into the tropical sun.

Yu’s voice stopped you on the threshold, sounding warmer than she had before. “And kid?” she asked.

You looked back at her curiously. “Yeah?”

She smiled up at you from where she was still bent over her suitcase. “Good work. The team is gonna be proud of you.”

You felt your face flame again, building on the flush that her observations on Shouto had already left. Your first big job out of school, and your supervisor actually thought you were doing good. You tried not to feel too pleased with yourself, and with the way your relationship with Shouto had seemed to have brought you nothing but good things.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. Then you ducked out of the doorway, and darted into the sun, feeling ridiculous and shy.

Sunfish was a dominating presence on the northern edge of the island, clearly visible along the northern access road.

You’d seen it along the coast as you boated around, setting up the testing stations, but it looked even more comedically villainous up close—a corroding grey warehouse above which multiple vents and smoke stacks rose like castle turrets.

Izuku steered the jeep into the small parking lot, and you watched in the rearview as his normally kind face pinched. You hadn’t had a chance yet to catch him alone and ask exactly how long had he been hiding the fact that he knew fucking merpeople and what the hell was up with their mating rituals. And you wouldn’t dare to now, surrounded as you were by your science crew.

But you thought you caught a curious flash of those emerald eyes as you piled out behind your coworkers.

Death Arms thanked him for the ride, setting up a time for pickup, and then shepherded the rest of you towards the cannery. You wrinkled your nose as you approached, the smell of fish and low tide assaulting your nostrils.

There was a man in a suit waiting for you at the entrance, long-limbed and dark haired, with small, watery eyes. He introduced himself as Ikeda, the cannery manager, and walked you through the list of stops he planned to bring your group on your tour. He held a clipboard at his side, a pen clipped fastidiously to his jacket pocket, and his entire demeanor suggested he was eager to get you in and out as fast as possible, despite the welcoming smile he bestowed on you.

Death Arms nodded along as Ikeda spoke, then pointedly asked in an overly-friendly tone, “Sounds good. So, how long have you been the manager here?”

Ikeda blinked. “About seven years now.”

You couldn’t tell if it was your instant dislike of him, but you thought his tone was rather oily. The cannery manager for seven years—that meant there was no way this guy didn’t know what was going on in this plant. There was no way he’d missed out on a pipeline being installed for waste water disposal. No way he was missing what you were sure were thousands of gallons of waste material being pumped out and away from the facility.

Your mind flashed back to Shouto again, a surge of anger overcoming you. This guy had helped dam off a place of cultural significance to Shouto’s people, and Shouto had had to drag himself over easily a kilometer of forested land, only to then submerge himself into literal poisoned water to get you your coral.

If given enough time, more of Shouto’s people would probably have to undertake the same ritual, endangering more and more of his pod.

Your hand flew up to your neck, pressing over the coral chips that sat just underneath the collar of your shirt. You tried to suppress the wave of virulent dislike that overcame you, and hid yourself behind Yu to cover as much of your expression as you could as Ikeda gestured for your group to follow him.

You trailed along after your teammates as Ikeda led you into the building. The interior was freezing cold, a maze of industrial metals and cold fluorescence. It was a shock to your senses after the lush, humid tropicality outside, and the shiver that overtook you slid into the marrow of your bones, mixing with your sick dislike.

Ikeda led you to the processing lines first, a complex series of conveyor belts and machinery, dotted by workers in hairnets, gloves, and bright yellow aprons. He explained how the fish was sorted according to their type, then cleaned and prepared. He led you to each station as he spoke, walking you through how the fish was then packed into cans and vacuum-sealed, then heat treated to sterilize them, or treated with other preservatives if not canned.

He occasionally paused to let Masaki take samples, a strange stillness overcoming his face as Masaki did so. It made you even more sure of your dislike of him, and you couldn’t help but bring yourself to ask probing questions as Ikeda explained some of the chemicals used to preserve shelf life—salt, citric acid, potassium sorbate. All normal preservatives, and all chemicals you’d found in your samples of the coral from the lagoon—but not the most damning.

“Is that a comprehensive list, or does Sunfish use any other preservatives?” you asked, willing your voice to sound casual. Yu gave you a carefully neutral glance over her shoulder.

Ikeda paused, his eyes seeming to grow even smaller as he looked at you. You didn’t like the sharpness that lurked there, even as he smiled pleasantly. “Sunfish uses a variety of preservative ingredients, as I mentioned. The three I’ve mentioned are just a small subset.”

The statement was so carefully crafted, technically answering while saying absolutely nothing at all.

You realized you would not get an answer out of him unless you asked very directly—and doing so might alert Ikeda to the fact that you had more than just suspicions. You nodded vaguely instead, grateful when Death Arms asked another question, pulling Ikeda’s attention off of you.

Yu’s fingers delicately touched your wrist, and she leaned in, speaking quietly. “The samples Masaki got should match most of the chemical blends you found, and taking pictures of the lagoon will be enough for a warrant,” she said, then paused, lowering her lashes and cutting her magenta eyes to yours. “Although if we can confirm the formalin you mentioned, we can get production shut down immediately.”

You nodded.

Formalin—a solution containing varying amounts of formaldehyde—was a controversial method of preserving fish. Two commercially available formalin products were generally accepted by most food and health administrations, but its usage and storage was highly regulated. If the concentration of formaldehyde was high enough, drainage disposal would not be a legal option. Releasing it into a lagoon, where it would be subject to sunlight and high temperatures and was most definitely dangerous enough to get the entire operation cancelled.

Masaki politely insisted on getting a sample of all of the preservative solutions, and you helped him collect them, frowning over the neatly labeled name of each when you came across them—citric acid, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate—but no formalin solution.

Yu’s frown was more pronounced as you were led into the administrative offices to meet some of the other executives, and to conduct what Ikeda pronounced a “quality sampling!”, smiling.

You could tell she was getting mildly annoyed, terrible at hiding her emotions, but she took a deep breath before grabbing your wrist.

“Ikeda-san, I’m afraid our newbie is feeling a little queasy after seeing everything. Become a marine biologist because she’s a sweet little animal lover. Could you point us towards the ladies’ room? I’ll take care of her.”

Ikeda blinked, turning his gaze to her, before his eyes darted to you. You had no idea what Yu was trying to do here, but you knew better than to disagree. You quickly hunched in on yourself a little, trying your best to look pale and peaky and pathetic.

“I—of course,” Ikeda said, pointing back out into the hall towards the main production line. “If you turn left out of here and follow the hallway further, they should be around the corner on your right.”

“Thank you,” Yu purred, then put her arm around you in an affectation of matronly concern you were sure she’d never actually felt once in her life. “Come on, sweetheart.”

You let her usher you out into the hall, turning to stare at her when the door closed behind you.

She rolled her eyes at your questioning expression, pulling you back down the hall towards the production line. “Come on, we only have a couple minutes. Formalin needs to be stored in a well ventilated area and it obviously isn’t in the main production area. We have to be quick if we’re gonna snoop—you take the left and I’ll take the right.”

You blinked. “You want to sneak around? Won’t they just say we planted evidence since we went off on our own?”

Yu’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “You got your phone on you? It’ll need to be stored labeled and with a spill kit. Hard for you to sneak an entire industrial spill kit in here, wouldn’t you agree? Just take a quick video of you sampling it and the conditions it’s stored in and that will be more than enough.”

You could feel a giddy sense of incredulity overtake you. She was serious. She wanted to go haring off without supervision, ostensibly breaking into parts of Sunfish without permission.

“Hurry up, time’s ticking,” she said, then tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, disappearing down the hall almost as enigmatically as Shouto had disappeared into the dark water last night.

The thought of Shouto brought you back to yourself, a sense of urgency snapping over you.

You only had a few minutes to find and prove Sunfish’s guilt, and Shouto was dependent on the results. The faster you shut off the flow of chemical waste water to the lagoon, the safer Shouto would be.

You all but threw yourself down the hall, following it past the women’s room you’d ostensibly been on your way to, peeking into any unlocked room or storage closet on the way. The passage seemed to span the side of the building, letting onto various rooms laden with cleaning supplies, overflow product, and marketing materials.

Time seemed to fly past at sickening speeds, every minute on the clock like a millisecond. You checked the time your phone anxiously, over and over again, urging yourself to move faster, while not wanting to move so quick that you missed what was most important.

It was only as you neared what seemed like the end of the hall, that you came across a room labeled Preservative Storage, papered with various seals of certification and governmental health requirements. Your heartbeat hammered in your chest as you tried the door, finding it open.

The room itself was unassuming, a tidy, cool space with drainage set into the floor and wide vents that spanned the ceiling. A variety of personal protective equipments hung just inside the door, some sealed tightly in plastic, laminated and color-coded charts hanging beside them. A variety of industrial refrigerators dotted the room in intervals, drums of other solutions in between them, everything looking carefully stored and well-maintained.

It was thanks to this orderliness that you had almost no trouble finding exactly what you were looking for.

You followed the line of labeled containers down the room, picking over each one with eagle-eyed focus. And there, in the far corner of the room, next to a variety of spill-cleaning equipment, lay a dark container with a white label, printed clearly with blue ink. You took your phone out with a shaking hand, snapping the picture you knew would close the trap on Sunfish once and for all.

The picture was clear, despite the shakiness of your hands, the label plainly announcing the the drum’s contents:

FORMACIDE-B.

#shouto x reader #shouto x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader

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kquil · 8 months ago

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JAMES POTTER | GENUINE

SUM. : your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him

LENGTH : 1.8k

TAGS : actor james potter au ; modern au ; muggle au ; singer reader au ; actor/director sirius black au ; actress marlene mckinnon au ; fluff ; celebrity couple goals ; james can't do romantic roles ; he's too loyal!

“CUT!” Sirius shouts and James drops his shoulders in disappointment, his expression of ‘hopeless love’ also slipping off his face. This is why he wasn’t suited for romantic roles. As Sirius shouts for everyone to take a short five-minute break, James catches Marlene sending him a sympathetic look before moving to her chair with the help of her make-up team, who lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding dress for easier movement. “Come on James, what’s gotten into you?” Sirius asks, making his way over as Remus touches up James’ hair and suit.

“I’m trying Sirius,” the actor sighs, “I think I just need a break to collect myself and then I can finally get that winning take for you,”

“You better,” Sirius playful threatens, “I know you’re a lovesick fool so I know the type of infatuated expressions you can pull. Just try to emulate that and you’re golden, okay?”

‘It’s not that easy if it isn’t her…’ James was tempted to protest but settled with a simple, “Okay…” satisfied, Sirius walks away with Remus to discuss some things with the camera crew while James leans against the set’s alter.

As an actor, James should find it easy to perform his characters’ expressions and emotions, his stardom and recurring roles in thriller, action and adventure films were a sentiment to that. However, his current role requires romantic displays, something he had actively avoided in his acting career.

Characters that had passionate, romantic and intimate scenes were roles James tended to avoid primarily due to his endless loyalty to you, his childhood sweetheart. As young teens, you and James fell in love long before your successes. Since then, you have only grown a deeper love for each other, fostered by the hardships that came with your dreams of becoming a singer and his of becoming an actor with Sirius.

His best friend eventually divulged into directing his own films whilst James continued expanding his career as an actor — as much as he’s able to with the number of scripts he’s dropped for their romantic interests and amorous scenes. It didn’t sit right with him having to kiss another girl let alone look lovingly at someone that wasn’t you. He felt like a cheat. Many, including Sirius, however, have told him that it was part of his job but James was insistent on making no exceptions. He respected you and the love you shared too much. The same way you would play your own love interest in music videos while wearing a short wig and masculine attire. It was a show of mutual respect you both had for the other before and after your relationship became public.

The only reason James had taken on this role was due to Sirius’ insistence as the director, the lack of intimate scenes as well as the dominating adventure, and fantasy genre. It would all be underpinned by small heartfelt moments with his character’s love interest played by his close friend Marlene McKinnon. The two characters’ love story will end in tragedy, haunted by the trope of ‘right person, wrong time’. James believed he could convincingly play his loving expressions only brought on by you in the rare, romantic moments his character shares with Marlene’s but it’s proving harder than he originally thought. Simply thinking about you wasn’t enough…

Mulling over his character’s story, James imagines you in Marlene’s place. He only had three minutes remaining to focus on how he should convey his character’s ‘hopeless love’ convincingly.

To concentrate, he closes his eyes and thinks deeply, ignoring the sudden scuffle and whispers around him. On an adventure to rescue his unrequited love’s significant other, James selflessly volunteers to aid in her quest, protecting her and cherishing her throughout the arduous journey, putting his life at risk for a girl who would never love him back. Unselfishly, he continues forward without drawing any attention to the deep love he holds for her, the audience kept in suspense of his mysterious ambitions— that is, until the dream sequence. In his sleep, influenced by the surrounding, foreign plants’ effects, James dreams of his ideal future, one where he gets to marry his love, who will reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. It’s the moment all audience members realise James’ true motivations, encouraging a swell of heartache amongst them when they are forced to accept the reality his own character is made to face: that he cannot be with his love no matter despite his efforts. Her heart belongs to another and if he were to fall for the plant’s trap, he will never wake up from his heavenly dream-come-true and become living fertilsier to continue the plant’s life. The heartache of that realisation is further emphasised when James doesn’t stop loving her in his own, silent and benevolent way.

This is going to be a big moment for James’ character; he needs to put his all into this!

Before he has the chance to open his eyes, however, James is already being led to his spot on the set by Remus. The brunette informs him that the short break is over and instructs him to start before his turn to face Marlene.

“Again, the shot’s focus will be on your face, James, Make it a good one,” Sirius instructs from his director’s chair and, with a small pause cues for the start of the hundredth take.

Opening his eyes gradually, as if waking up from a dream, James takes a moment to analyse his surroundings. He meets the eyes of his groomsmen, shooting them a confused look before slowly turning and raising his gaze. He’s become familiar with Marlene in her wedding dress now so her off-centred placement doesn’t deter him. He also fully trusts in the team, if they saw it fit to make any changes, he’ll help follow through. Marlene is only slightly off centre, he realises, to accommodate the camera’s view of his expression more clearly. James fully expects to only see Marlene, however, when he finally raises his gaze, in the distance, he sees you by the camera.

And James immediately smiles.

He completely forgets where he is, rather, he savours the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of you, the burst of elation in his brain when he sees you smiling at him, dressed in his oversized sweater and your casual jeans. You’re not in a wedding dress nor dolled up the same way Marlene is for the take but you’re just as gorgeous. There’s a tingling itch in his fingertips to reach out for you and he almost does but stops when he remembers where he is and what’s happening around him. His look of sweeping joy and deep affection falters ever so slightly but is completely captured by the camera’s close-up shot. James’ internal berating of another failed performance barely begins when Sirius is suddenly cheering in delight.

“CUT! AND PRINT!” Sirius claps and laughs at the success but James is left blinking in confusion. Did he hallucinate you? He looks in your direction again. No, you weren’t a figment of his imagination, you’re really here! “Finally! That was what I was looking for! Great idea on putting her beside the camera, Moony,”

Remus nods his head in graceful humility as you giggle from where you stand. You had planned a surprise visit for James and called Remus beforehand for access to the set. It was the perfect surprise considering you had barely seen each other the last few weeks; he was busy filming with Sirius and Marlene while you were recording songs for your new, up-and-coming album. That only seemed to add to James’ favourable reaction, however.

“BREAK!” Sirius announces with a wink directed at you, “Let's give the two love birds a moment, as thanks for finally getting the job done. Let’s give it ten!” it seemed as though succeeding after multiple failures had made Sirius a little too happy and laidback but who was James to complain? As Marlene knowingly smirks at him, he runs past and launches himself at you. With a squeal, you return his embrace and giggle into his shoulder.

“I missed you…” he whispers into your crown.

“Surprise!” you announce despite the lateness and giggle again. Music to his ears.

“Thanks for helping me with my scene, love,” he pulls away with deep affection swimming in his hazel eyes and he cups your jaw while resisting the urge lean in and kiss you endlessly. He loves the sound of your voice just as much as the feel of your lips against his own so, for now, he’ll willing listen. He can taste your sweet lips later.

“I didn’t really know what was happening but I’m happy to help,”

“You’re so cute,” he sighs and finally pulls you into passion-filled kiss before you can utter another word. "I can't believe you're my lady,"

"Your lady?"

"Yes," James giggles and kisses your cheek again and again and again, "my lady, the same way, I'm your man,"

"Mmm, sounds good," you utter against his lips, "I'll have to feature you in my new music video then~"

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“...tell me about that scene. It was such a big moment for the audience and your character. How did you manage to look so in love but then so heartbroken?” the interviewer asks, smiling but tilting his head in curiosity when Marlene burst out laughing.

“Oh, this is such a good story!” James looks away, unable to meet his co-star and friend’s mischievous smirk and glimmering eyes, “Can I tell him?” she doesn’t even give him the chance to answer before ingeminating the tale, “James couldn’t get that moment right for multiple takes. We were all getting tired of him, really. But since Sirius knew he was capable of being a love-drunk fool, he persisted for over an hour! And this is just for a one minute section of the film!” James finally chuckles despite his flustered expression when Marlene makes a side comment about how the wedding dress was a chore to wear for such an extended period of time and didn’t appreciate James’ slow uptake, “there wasn’t even an after-party for me to let loose in, my supposed ‘groom’ had his brain elsewhere,” the two share a laugh and James picks up on the story.

“Elsewhere, meaning my girlfriend. She actually planned a surprise visit during filming and was brought in by Remus. He put her right by the camera and the reaction you saw on film was my reaction to seeing her instead of Marlene.” his co-star coos at how adorable he is whenever he’s around you and gossips with the interviewer about how cute of a couple the two of you make behind the scenes.

“Is that why you’ve become her love interest in the music videos for her new album?” the interviewer asks impromptu. He’s on the edge of his seat and is a clear fan of your music, which makes James happier than if the man was to say he was a fan of him.

“Naturally,” James smiles to himself, “she did say I was the inspiration for her love ballads,”

NAVI.

A/N : this was inspired by this tiktok and a daydream i had! the anime is called 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End', I've never watched it but it was on my fyp, i did some exploring and, now, here i am (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #marauders

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writeslikeanaria · 10 days ago

Text

GLITZ & GLAMOUR & GLOOM

chapter one — job no. 12

boss!harry castillo x assistant!reader

synopsis — you’ve quit your job and you now need something new. however your job interview with the expensive looking man is more confusing than it needs to be. sugar daddy!harry AU

word count — 3.5K

warning tags — nothing crazy for this chapter. 18+ for eventual smut. slight insecurity from the reader. talks about money issues.

series masterlist | read on ao3

previous chapter | next chapter

You were so done with being poor.

That’s what you told yourself as you handed in your two weeks notice at your current–well, former now–job, ignoring your scowling boss, looking at you like a crazy person. You avoided his sharp eye contact, swivelling your head as you turned to exit through the creaking door.

“I hope you know what you’re doing!” He yelled back at you, his degrading voice vibrating off the walls of the room. Cringing, you darted out of the room, before he could spit anymore fire at you.

In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing. You had hours, your coworkers were generally friendly, but you could not deal with one more measly paycheck, barely leaving you with any spare savings after every dime was spent on rent. New York was expensive and your degree felt more and more underused every day, with your time exclusively dedicated to organising grown men, who couldn’t tell their left foot from their right.

While you had a love hate relationship with being an assistant, it was time to get out of this job.

Briskly walking through the halls of your office, you quietly sat back behind your desk, feeling the burning gaze of your coworkers. You know what they think. Silly girl with silly dreams of more in the big city. It didn’t seem so silly before.

Now, as you try to remember your to-do list, you busy yourself back into your laptop screen, typing LinkedIn into the search bar.

“So, you finally did it.”

Yelping, you spin around in shock, completely unaware of your deskmate you had snuck up behind you. She flashed a kind smile, showing off perfectly white teeth, and sat down beside you. Her presence was usually friendly, however you couldn’t deal with any questions at this moment in time. “Yeah, hey, Marlene. She’s all handed in. In two weeks, I’m gone”

Marlene squeals, throwing her arms around you, squeezing you tight to her warm chest. “I’m so proud of you. I couldn’t imagine leaving here without a plan or new job lined up. You’re so brave.”

You grimace at her back-handed words, pushing them to the back of your mind. “Thanks, sweetheart. If you know of any assistant jobs going, please let me know.” You shake her limbs away from her body, giving her a tight lipped smile.

You aren’t sure if she replies, but she does leave you alone. You aren’t the closest of friends with Marlene, however you do appreciate her presence in the office. You were aware of her fortunate financial situation, seemingly able to afford luxury goods, like a Prada handbag one week, and a Gucci scarf the next. Most days, she eats out, always coming to work the next day with an eloquent story on the latest restaurant she had visited. Her hands remained freshly manicured, always patched as soon as any nail got chipped.

You were slightly envious.

You were aware that both you and Marlene were on the same salary, both being personal assistants to the financial managers. She must’ve had a second job, you think every time she comes in to work with a smile on her face. There’s no way she could be that happy tailing a pretentious, stuck-up piece of work for eight hours a day.

Unfortunately for you, your financial situation was slightly dire. The cost of living in New York City was becoming increasingly a problem, barely able to scrape by each week. Your tiny apartment ran cold most nights, unable to find the spare change to flick on the heating. The fridge was bare most weeks, besides from the odd condiment bottle and slab of butter.

It was not a glamorous lifestyle at all.

Marlene wanders off, seemingly done with the conversation. There was no point asking her for help. You sigh and stare back at your screen.

Maybe you need a new profile picture?

––––––

Staring out the window, you notice how the sun has already left the sky, with beautiful orange flecks reflecting off the little clouds. It was late and you have yet to let yourself finish your day. LinkedIn was a bust, with no one in your network of peers looking for any new assistants, so you decided that maybe you’d go back to study.

Scrolling through the course page of a nearby institution, you once again didn’t notice the presence behind you until it was too late.

“So, I was thinking–”

“Jesus, Marlene!”

“–and I may have thought of a job for you.”

You wince at her strange wording. Screwing your eyes up, you bring your fingers to your temples, soothing the frustrating seeping out of your pores. You were exhausted. The only thing on your mind was an ice cold margarita and your fluffy bed socks. “What kind of job is it?”

Marlene pauses, finding her words on the tip of her tongue. The delay worries you. “It’s an assistant job.”

You cock an eyebrow. “You sure? You seem unsure about that.”

“It’s just–” Marlene trails off, peeking around the room to see if anyone was listening. It was silly of her; everyone had left hours ago. “It’s not your regular assistant job.”

You roll your eyes, sick of her discrete behaviour. Standing up, you begin packing up your things, placing your worn books and pens away in your satchel, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have time for this, Marlene. Just send me an email.”

Before you could walk away, you feel the light pressure of hands against your arms, holding you back. Squealing, you turn back to Marlene. “Marlene, st–”

“It’ll pay really well.”

“I–” You pause, unable to find the words to stop Marlene. Sighing, you give her a small smile, shaking your head in exasperation. “Fine. Hit me.”

Marlene grins widely, gesturing for you to sit with her once more. Her nails tap against the desk excitedly, waves of positivity oozing out of her. Hastedly, Marlene removes her phone from her pocket, pulling up an email. Suspiciously, she scrolls down to just the end of the email, and turns her phone screen so you can see the words in front of you. You pout in confusion.

Castillo Finance

Area of Expertise – Administration

Job title – Job no. 12

Marlene rambles away, as you try to read at the same. “I’ll send an email to my girl, because I know the lovely lady that works there– of course, I’ll need to explain it some more. It’s a bit different, but you’ll be fine. Oh, you’ll just love it. We can see each other more. Oh, I can’t wait!”

“Marlene, just wait–” She stops her spew of word vomit as you speak, flashing a smile.

“Yes?”

“What kind of administrative job?”

“It’s, uh– personal assistant! Very similar to what you do now.”

You don’t believe her and she knows that, but Marlene waves away your concerns. “You just head there tomorrow and tell the front desk you’re there to apply for “Job no. 12”, they’ll sort out everything for you.”

Job no. 12.

You squint as you check the address on your phone. Private equity. Now that’s a new one for you. Staring up at the towering building in front of you, you fear you have bitten off more than you can chew. You believe Marlene now when she said that this would pay well. The building is massive, easily one of the tallest in the area. Large windows stand up to the sky, presenting clean and glorious views into the foyer of the building.

Nervously, you walk through the doors and take in the expensive sights. Everything is pristine. The granite floors sparkle as you clack your shoes against the stone. Plush furnishings on the couches and throws light up the room, appearing as though it could be out of a magazine.

You walk up to the front desk, voice small, as you flash a smile to the administrator sitting behind the desk. She’s beautiful, with clean clothes and perfect makeup. If you saw her walking down the street, you’d assume she was a supermodel. You weren’t aware that real people looked like that. Coughing to clear your throat, you capture her attention.

Flicking her head up, she peers at you from over the top of her cat-eye glasses, staring at you like you were her lunch. You gulped as she spoke. “Can I help you, sweetheart?”

“Uh,” you pull out your email, staring at what Marlene had forwarded you. It wasn’t the same email she showed you in the office–for some reason, she never let you see the full email–but a new email, with the confirmation of your job interview. In the subject line, it had today’s date with an identification number. “I have an interview for job number twelve? My ID number is 478.”

The lady scoffed, turning back to her computer. You swear you could hear her mutter under her breath, but you couldn’t make out any words she said. However, it did seem unfriendly and calculated. She reads out your name and looks back at you, disapprovingly.

“Yes, that’s me.” You confirm your identity, shoving away any feelings of insecurity that were beginning to creep up on you as you watched the supermodel stare you up and down. She was most certainly judging how you looked.

Miss Supermodel, as you’ve decided to call her, scowls but nods her head. “Take the elevator to the right. Go to floor twenty four. Someone will direct you from there.” She waves you hand away, sending you off into the wild.

Unsure of whether to thank her or not, you decide on a polite nod, and make your way into the elevator, pressing the 24 button. Just as your fingers go to press the close button, you notice a man from the distance heading towards the elevator. Politely, you press your hand to the cool metal of the door, keeping the doors from closing and cutting him off.

As the man approaches, he notices the open door, and widens his eyes at the polite gesture. Grateful, he offers a small nod as he gets in, standing next to you, without trying to take up too much room in the elevator.

You grin to yourself. Trying not to stare at the man before you, you can’t help but rake your eyes over his body. He’s built strongly, an easy six feet tall. His eyes are warm and dark, like melting chocolate, begging you to just stare in, and fall deep into the pools of blackness. His clothes are clean and fancy, definitely something designer. He must be important, you think to yourself.

“Thank you for holding the door.” He offers, and you let yourself feel happy for a moment. It’s not like you care about what a random man in an elevator thinks about you, but something about making this specific man happy sets your insides alive. Without taking up too much space, he presses the 25 button, and returns to his original posture. Taking a quick peek at you, he clears his throat. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

You turn to look at the kind man next to you. He’s staring directly back, his eye contact strong and dominant, like he owns the place. It makes your heart flutter. “I’m here for a job interview.”

He smiles and turns away. “Ah.” The elevator goes quiet again as it reaches your floor, opening the doors onto floor twenty four. Just as you step out, you hear a quiet voice call out to you.

“Good luck.”

As you turn back, the elevator doors have already closed, and you are unsure if you had imagined it or not. Shrugging, you continue towards the front desk.

The lady behind the desk is, just like Miss Supermodel, absolutely beautiful. Her clothes are also designer, with not a single hair or thread out of place. She looks like she came directly out of a Vogue magazine.

Biting your lip, you open your mouth to speak, but are interrupted by a pitchy, male voice behind you. “Andrea, I need your help.”

The man pushes you aside, nearly tumbling to the ground, as you watch the show in front of you. A man, not older than thirty, but already going bald, is red in the face, his hands full of binders. He’s frantic as he pulls out what seems to be a contract, and shoves it into the lady’s–Andrea’s–face.

“Where’s Mr Castillo?” His voice comes out in exhausted gasps, like he’s just ran a marathon. However, by your calculations, he couldn’t have run more than one hundred feet.

Andrea shrugs, obviously annoyed by this mousy man and his antics. “Which Mr Castillo are we talking about, Sanders? Surely you can understand my confusion, as this is Castillo Finance.”

Sanders scowls at Andrea, pulling back the sheet of paper with a huff. “My boss Mr Castillo, genius. Have you seen him, or do I need a competent administrator to understand what’s relevant in the conversation?”

“I haven’t seen him today, Sanders, now get these contracts out of my face and maybe check his office.” She blinks at him like he’s a child. “On a different floor.”

Aggressively, Sanders gathers his office equipment and heads past the door, staring daggers at you as he leaves. You believe he must not have appreciated the eavesdropping, however you’ll never say no to free entertainment. Collecting yourself, you approach the desk once again, and go to speak. Andrea, however, interrupts you. “How can I help?”

Without thinking, you blurt out, “I’m sorry he talks to you like that,” before immediately regretting what you said. The air goes thick with tension, as Andrea stares back at you, eyes of glass.

“He’s a dick.” She says plainly, making a giggle slip from your lips. She smiles back, before composing herself, and returning to her professional self. “Now, what can I help you with?” She repeats herself, coughing as she watches you stutter.

“I’m here for a job interview.” You speak plainly, pulling up your phone once again. You give her your name and wait for Andrew to finish finding what she needs on her computer. All of a sudden, she stops cold, turning back towards you slowly. Her face runs white.

“You’re applying for “Job no. 12”?” Her voice comes out in a small whisper, which presses confusion into your brain. You couldn’t help but think ‘what the hell is so wrong with this job?’

You clear your throat. “Yes.” You pause. “Have I done something wrong?

“Of course not!” Andrea’s voice escapes in a cool laugh, but you can help but notice how forced it is. “It’s just, it’s a word of mouth job, and I’m just,” she looks you up and down like you said something crazy, or if you’ve worn something wrong, “confused.”

“It's a personal assistant job… am I wrong?”

Andrea looks back at you plainly. There must be some information you are missing here. You simply can’t understand why she is looking at you like you’ve got something on your face. “I guess so.” She eventually speaks, however her words are too plain for your liking. “I mean, yeah, sure, it’s a personal assistant role.”

Andrea stands, wandering over to a nearby office, muttering under her breath words you just barely catch. “Personal assistant job, pfft, it’s definitely a personal kind of assisting.” Opening the door, you watch as she says something to one of her coworkers.

For the third time today, you are met with one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. Furrowing your brows, you observe how the two women whisper to themselves, before the new girl nods towards you, inviting you to join their discussion.

The new lady speaks at you, her voice so quiet you could almost miss it. “Who sent you this job?” She mutters.

You can’t believe the question. “My old co-worker, Marlene Beauregard.”

The two ladies gasp and turn to each other, a small smile whispering across their lips.

Andrea speaks up first. “And she told you…” She trails off, expecting you to finish her sentence.

“She told me that she knew of a personal assistant job for me–this “job number twelve”–and set up the interview with me.” You pause. “What’s going on?”

The new lady quirks a smile. “Nothing at all. I’ll call Harry. You’re going to be late for your interview.”

––––––

You stare forward at the third lady as she pours over your CV. Her office is sleek, but small, organised so as much furniture as possible can be squashed into the same space. The walls are a crisp egg shell white, with a luxurious window sitting behind her, overlooking the city. Across her desk is a name plate.

Liza Brown. Human Relations Coordinator.

She hums gently. “Impressive.” She licks her fingers and turns to the second page of your CV, another agreeable sound coming from her mouth. “Studied at NYU, very chic. Journalism, very trendy. This is a glowing recommendation–”

Liza takes your CV and holds it up to the light. For some reason.

“How long were you in your old role?”

You sigh. “Four years, but it was time to move on. They didn’t pay me very well and I wanted to use my degree.”

Liza smirks. “So, you are applying for a personal assistant role again? That’s not very investigative journalism of you.”

“I need a job.” You say plainly.

“So,” She eyes you up, “you thought job number twelve was the job for you?”

“Why does everyone–”

However, your words are cut off as the door swings open, and elevator man walks in, frantically rubbing down his blazer jacket. “Sorry I’m late, was on a call and–”

He interrupts himself as he looks at you, with recognition in his eyes. They’re just as warm and inviting as they were half an hour ago, except this time, there was a spark of something else in there. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” You repeat, not breaking eye contact with him.

Liza interrupts, her voice laced with confusion. “Do you two know each other?”

“No–” Elevator man says plainly, turning away from you and making his way to the other side of Liza’s desk. “We simply met earlier, however, I do believe formal introductions are in order.”

He extends his hand out to you. “Harry Castillo.”

You take his hand and say your name, which he repeats slowly and surely, like he was trying to memorise the way it sounded in his mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Liza writing something down at her desk.

Once again, Liza interrupts, coughing to capture Harry’s attention. “She’s here about job number twelve?”

Harry looks alarmed. “Job number twelve? The g–”

“The personal assistant role.” Liza cuts him off, her voice harsh, like she’s speaking a different language.

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “But I al–”

Liza presses again. “The personal assistant job. Job number twelve is for a personal assistant role. Your personal assistant.” She grasps your CV in her hand and tosses it towards his chest. “Look over it.”

Just then you realise she had scribbled some writing across your CV, however you can’t make out any distinct words before Harry turns away from both of you, his eyes scanning the paper. When he turns back, his eyes have lost friendliness. “Ms Brown? A word.”

You watch sheepishly as they exit the office. Unfortunately, the room is soundproof, unable to make out any words from their frantic conversation. It isn’t until they both enter the room again that you feel slightly calmer.

Harry stalks you like prey, his eyes scanning you up and down.

He’s studying you.

Finally, he speaks, his voice calm.

“Can you start in two weeks?”

You exhale a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. Somehow, you had gotten a job, without barely trying. You couldn’t understand your luck. In the back of your head, you knew something was off, but in that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

However you stop yourself. Dread fills you. You didn’t have a job for the next two weeks. You couldn’t possibly afford two weeks out of work. Your smile drops from your face, something that Harry doesn’t miss.

“Is there a problem?” He says it warmly, with genuine concern in his voice.

You sigh, frowning. “Two weeks? Is there any possible way I can start earlier?”

Harry seems confused. “Earlier? Why’s that?”

“I’m currently out of work and I–”

He understands, immediately cutting you off, focusing his attention onto Liza.

“Take down her information and get her onto payroll immediately. Talk with payroll and make sure she gets an advance check of two weeks of pay.” He looks you up and down. “And add on a bonus. Maybe a grand?”

You gasp, unsure of what to say. Before you can even manage any words, Harry winks, speaking softly under his voice. “Buy yourself some new clothes, something cute, and I’ll see you in two weeks.”

------

a/n – okay so i haven't published fanfiction for soooo long–since the incident we don't speak of–so i apologise if this is kinda rusty, however i enjoy writing it.

tag list – @joeldjarin @moyavsemoya @glitterspark @ro-nahime-things @throttlepascal @umadirectioner @roslynsworld @morganlolitta @isa942572

#harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo smut #harry castillo fluff #harry castillo angst #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #materialists #materialists cast

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coupsalchemy · 26 days ago

Text

Hothouse Flower [Part 1]

Summary - Your five year relationship with him ended two years ago. You need to move on, have to, since you are the only one stuck in the past. Jeonghan moved on, happy, gallivanting away. When you finally agree to meet up a fellow heartbroken stranger set up by 'Get Love Quick', you didn't expect to see him there.

Tags: Jeonghan x f.reader, exes! au, second chance romance, angst, yearning, fluff, suggestive, SLOW BURN

Warnings: mdni, very suggestive (at least in the next part), fist fight, mentions of blood, just a very angry Jeonghan, swearing, and a lot of grammatical mistakes as English isn't my first language.

Word Count: 21k (this part, total 40k)

A's Note: I've been working on this for like four months. Please get ready for the angst and yearning. The birth of this story took place from Don't Wanna Cry Jeonghan falling onto his knees in yearning, and the song 'no one noticed by the marias'.

I wanted to write a story where reader gets to forget everything and be in the world of the fiction, enjoy momentary bliss instead of the bitter taste of life, at least for some time. So by the time you complete reading this part, next part would have already been uploaded. If I succeeded in making you forget everything and you enjoyed the fic please let me know so I can stare at your message for eternity in happiness.

Also I want to thank my two friends who have been patiently answering my questions, and kept on encouraging me all the time. If not for you two this wouldn't have happened. Thank you!!

divider credits to the rightful owner.

⌜ If anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.⌟

— Clementine von Radics

“You should try this,” Seungkwan places the folded worn out newspaper on your work desk, looming over you like a dark cloud before rain. Nothing good is going to come out of this.

With a sigh you minimize the word document you have been working on, and focus on the headline of the advertisement, Get Love Quick. “If you have time to find crap then you have time to prepare the deck.”

Seungkwan tsks. “I have time till this Friday.” He drags the chair from the next cubicle, making a home for himself. “Send in an application.” He shoves the paper back to you, sending your notebook flying. “It’s high time for you to move on.”

You reopen the word document glaring at the words and hit random letters on the keyboard with more force, “I have work unlike someone. If you leave me alone.”

“Come on,” he insists, locking your system and turning your chair in his direction. “You have to get out of that four walls of darkness you call a room,” his gaze is firm, the frown line between his eyebrows makes you think. He isn’t going to back away like the other times, this time he is serious.

You fall back into your chair, gnawing on your lower lip. The words on the newspaper glares at you, in mockery or a challenge, you couldn’t say.

Find your other broken hearted half..

It’s been more than a year since you went on a date. You are sure that even the process of dating has changed by now. Fresh after the break up you were relentless, swiping right on guy after guy to rile up your ex, only to end up canceling most of the dates.

The two men you met were good, considerate and even attentive, something you begged from your previous relationship. Their questions and interest in your work, hobbies and daily life solidified their points in gaining the second date.

If not for the constant comparison to a certain long black haired man, who would be cracking jokes on the other two for their pretentiousness. It’s safe to say that you didn’t get a second date with anyone. Eventually the fire to make your ex jealous and show him what he is missing has died down.

“Are you still here?” Seungkwan shakes your arm.

You faze out from your thoughts, “I'm not sure. It’s a lot of work.” You pull your hair to one side, playing with the ends. “I have to dress up, put on makeup and,” you suck in a breath dreading the worst of all, “I have to make stimulating conversations.”

You click your pen, chewing on your lip, losing yourself in thoughts. What you don’t voice out is the fear of losing someone again and losing yourself in the process of clinging onto him to make him stay. You have done it once, and not sure you could do it again. Especially if it’s someone who is not your Jeonghan.

Seungkwan holds your hands in his, he says, “you don’t need to put up an act this time.”

“Hey.” A coworker greets you, crossing the office floor to the elevator.

Seungkwan presses his lips in a thin line, nodding back at the intruder who is already out of earshot. “Anyway, as I am saying,” he goes back to the topic, “no need for an act. Be yourself and the right one will come.”

The strong belief in his words sways your stubborn heart a little, a faint hope flickering in your chest.

“Remember there’s no one you need to get back at this time.” He reemphasizes, “I don’t want to see you pulling that old shit.”

You nod without a second thought, a little scared of his authoritative tone.

“Good.” He presses your hand, eyes softening, studying you. “I have a gut feeling that this is going to be your turning point.” He adds, “a good one. You’ll find someone who understands you as you are.”

The love in his words and caring gestures were what made you you till now. He always dragged you back whenever you were spiraling down the rabbit hole. He doesn’t have a reason to look after you, especially when even your mom has given up on you after a few tries.

“Oh,” his soft voice makes your eyes moist, “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“I know.”

He ruffles your hair, “straighten up and fight back, my warrior. You can do this.”

You laugh, wiping the corner of your eyes. “Warrior?”

“Frontline army?”

You push him away, “go back, Seungkwan. Our boss is already glaring.” You backspace the crap you have written on the report. “We are one call away from the HR office.”

“Ugh,” he fixes his tie, “that old retard should find someone else to stalk.” He slowly rolls away to the next cubicle leaving the chair in its rightful place. “Think about it. Okay?”

“Thank you, Seungkwan.”

“Anything for you.”

—

You wake up with a start, your mind in a haze. The rotating ceiling fan spins your head making your dizziness worse. You fight with the comforter rolled around you to free your hand, the movements worsen the pounding in your head.

“Ugh, Hannie.” You search for the other side of the bed, your fingers tracing the cold bed sheet. “Huh?”

You open your eyes forcefully, the bright sunshine falling directly on you. You forgot to draw curtains again. The empty space beside you cracks your heart again, the unused pillow still in bright yellow cover mocks you. He is not in your life anymore. You pluck the pillow, hugging it to your chest and inhaling its scent. It doesn’t smell like him anymore.

The warmth of this pillow doesn’t suffice the warmth of him, his midnight cuddles, kisses all over your face when he thinks you are in deep sleep. Your fingers grasp the edges of the pillow, legs curling into your stomach from the ache echoing your entire body.

Longing for Jeonghan has become one with breathing. Each moment and thing is closely intricated with his existence, the reminder of him throwing you back into the pits of suffering. You eye your phone resting beside you, the temptation to check his whereabouts is gripping your chest. Your fingers hover over it succumbing to your desires, but no, not this time, not when he never cared about you. Does he even think about you?

—

Jeonghan smiles at his date reassuringly, “it’s fine. It’s fine. Don’t panic.” He stands up from his seat, approaching her side of the table, “let’s go get you cleaned up.” He holds out his palm, interlacing their fingers.

His confident stride leads them across linen covered tables, wafts of delicious food surrounding them. Familiarity with this restaurant propels his sense of direction, he took this path countless times. He grips her hand, almost crushing, anchoring himself to the present moment.

She squeezes back, peering at him through his shoulder. He runs his fingers through his long hair strands, curling the strays behind his ear. She reaches out, tenderly running her fingertips at the back of his head. He ducks his head down, straightening his suit pants. Her steps stumble into one another, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

The kitchen is bustling with waiters coming in and out with orders. A waiter carrying an order is craning his neck, waving his hand to gain Jeonghan’s attention.

Jeonghan frowns at the unprofessional etiquette of the staff, and the waiter’s relentless efforts only irks him further. It strikes him, the reason behind the enthusiasm of the boy. Jeonghan exhales through his mouth. He knew it was a bad idea to dine in this restaurant, but two years is enough time for people to forget.

Oh. How he never learns.

The boy stops in his tracks confused at the lady hiding behind Jeonghan, and the rosary blush on her cheeks complimented with the shy glances at Jeonghan. He drops his hand, unimpressed.

Jeonghan is annoyed, reading the judgemental stare he is receiving. He presses his lips in a thin line, not sparing another glance he leads his date to the washroom. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.” He leans on the wall opposite to the women’s restroom, pocketing his hands.

She hurries in with a blush creeping up her cheeks, matching the red of her dress. He would have found it cute once upon a time, and would have even teased a little. But now, Jeonghan throws his head back a sigh escaping his lips, he can’t even bring to crack a joke or worse lead the conversation from topics other than weather or work.

Silver lining out of all is, this is their second date. Maybe it can lead to something prominent one day. And he can go back to his old ways, find it in himself to laugh and joke around. His gaze flickers to the women’s restroom door, a memory creeping into his mind.

You spilled wine on yourself on a date with him. He tsks, teased you for a klutz while leading you to the washroom. You expected him to stop outside but you should have known how crazy he was. He checked either side before following you in with a false pretense to help you wipe the stain near your chest.

You rolled your eyes at him when his thumb caressed a little longer, understanding his actions. You pinch his arm and he bites his lower lip, suppressing a smile. He looks at you in mockery before squeezing your breast, eliciting a moan, he crashes his lips on you.

“Been a long time,” the waiter reappears before him disturbing him from the memory of his ex. “I hope you remember me.”

Jeonghan’s jaw ticks. The boy, his name tag reads, Dino, is oblivious to Jeonghan's bubbling irritation. He continues, “well, if it was her,” he whispers, checking around for Jeonghan’s date, “she would have recognized me. I can’t believe you let her go.” He shakes his head in disappointment, sneaking glances at Jeonghan.

Jeonghan stands up straight, looming over the younger boy. Darkness exuding from him, now he doesn’t need some little boy to preach what he missed out.

Dino, bad with reading cues continues, “well,” he presses, drawing random figures on the serving tray, “can I… get her number?”

Red flashes in Jeonghan’s eyes, “what?”

Dino takes a step back, eyes shaking, “I-I-I me-mean..” he shields himself with the tray, “yo-you moved on, so, I thought–”

“Thought what?” Jeonghan spits.

“Th-that I sh-should shoot my shot,” Dino musters up courage, squaring his shoulders, head held high, “she is worth the–”

Jeonghan grabs Dino’s collar, “Fuck off you little—”

“Jeonghan? Jeonghan?”

His date grabs his arm off the waiter, “are you crazy? Let him go.”

His date looks at him in worry, her hand still holding onto his arm. Jeonghan snaps at her, “what?” She reels back from him, dropping her hand. Jeonghan closes his eyes, regaining his senses. “Sorry.”

She nods, not meeting his eyes. He scoffs at Dino scurrying away without looking back. “Let’s go.” He leads the way back to their table. This time he doesn’t hold her hand. She jogs to keep up with his pace, reaching out to his hand only to fail. If she is upset she doesn’t show it when he slips his hands into his pockets.

—

“I had fun tonight, Hannie.” She unbuckles her seatbelt, leaning into him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers in his ear.

Jeonghan taps his forefinger against the leather of the steering wheel, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Yeah.”

She holds his chin, gently nudging him towards her. Her thumb traces his bottom lip, her brown eyes focusing on the slight cracks and splits. “I don’t wanna ask what you are not gonna tell,” she taps on his lip twice, “but I can’t tolerate it happening again.” She holds his gaze, “if I am gonna have you I want all of you.”

He nods.

She presses a kiss on his lips, her soft ones moving against his static ones. He closes his eyes, shutting down the images of someone who is not his date. He sucks on her bottom lip, the cherry flavour of her lip balm on his tongue.

He unbuckles the seatbelt, slips his hand around her nape pulling her in. Their lips move in fervent need, tongues clashing, biting and nipping. Soft whimpers fill in the car, her hands roaming across his chest. “So hot.” She runs her hand through his long hairstrands, tugging at their ends, “You look—” she breathes as he nips her bottom lip “—fucking hot.”

He holds her roaming hand, intertwining their fingers, his eyes still closed, kissing her now swollen lips.

Images of her clouds him, her cheeky smile when he catches her causing ruckus, her droopy eyes yet a blissful look of satisfaction, her kisses in the middle of the night, her taste, her, her, her everywhere.

Her name slips past his lips in a shaky whisper. He backs away from his date, running a hand through his ruffled hair, “fuck.” He holds the hand slipping away from his grasp, “I am sorry. Sorry, it's just the,” he blinks at her teary face, “the..” he falters.

“Goodbye, Jeonghan.” She exits the car. Her flowery scent lingering in his car, a constant reminder of what he fucked up just because he couldn’t forget his ex.

He hits the steering wheel repeatedly. The ghost of his ex is still haunting him, in the corners of his apartment, the track sounds of her favorite sitcom, in his office, and fuck even in his car fiddling with the playlist.

Does he miss you? He doesn’t (it’s killing him).

Jeonghan ignites the car, clicking some random playlist on his phone. He reverses the car, driving through the silent empty streets, humming to the songs to clear his mind off the awkward date.

The community he resides in is a mile away, small stalls and restaurants around the area are bustling. Familiar neighborhood eases his uneasiness. Few more minutes and he can go home to his whiskey and drown himself in sleep. He rolls the car to a stop at a red light. He keeps clicking on the next song.

Her laughter plays on the speakers. Jeonghan drops his phone in a shock, startled to hear the voice he didn’t hear for months. Her giggles fill in his car, “Hannie, Hannie, baby,” cut off with a moan.

Next song starts playing and Jeonghan stares at the screen with a frown. What just happened? He clicks on the previous song, the voice note replaying. A car honks behind him, he drops the phone checking the rear view, he accelerates through the green light, and pulls up to the side.

The voice note replays again and again. The blinkers on his car keep flicking till a police car pulls up to check on him.

—

You fiddle with the silver band on your ring finger, staring at the blank application opened up on your laptop. It has been an hour, and not even one question has been answered. You let out a long sigh, still confused, still hesitant whether you are truly ready to give love a chance again. The questions are simple, What’s your heartbreaking story? The answer to them isn’t, you are not sure you can rehash your heartbreak in words, without getting the need to find him and see how life has been treating him.

You close the laptop and throw it aside on the bed, burying yourself in the comforter, staring at the unoccupied side of the bed and bright yellow pillow. A stray tear wets your pillow, your hand tracing the empty bedside.

—

Jeonghan punches in the words on his keyboard with force since he can’t punch the person in the face. He sits back cross-checking the draft email just in case his thoughts are translated into words subconsciously. Another visit to the HR will for sure land him in trouble.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His senior, Soobin, raps his knuckles on the table.

Great, Jeonghan can feel the universe breathing down his neck today. He folds the laptop screen, reclining in his seat listening to the rant.

“I can’t believe you messed up man.” Soobin rakes his hand through his hair, plopping on the empty chair, rolling the paper weights around the table. “She is the hottest one dude.” A sleazy grin on his lips, “a goddess in that red dress.” He mimics the shape of her waist line with his hands. Jeonghan raises his eyebrow at the detail. Soobin smiles sheepishly, adding, “She posted a picture on her account.”

Jeonghan wants to throw up at the vulgarity. “If you find her attractive then why don’t you date her?” He opens his laptop back, sending the mail.

“Have to wait till I break up with my current one.” He says with remorse.

Jeonghan grits his teeth, irritation bubbling up in his chest. He tries to tone it down before it escalates into something like throwing him out of his room or worse, throwing a punch. He doesn’t have it in him to sort through another mess and complicate his already stressful life.

Soobin, not heeding to any hints radiating from Jeonghan, dips his fingers into forbidden waters. “But, come on, man.” He leans in with a wicked expression, “admit it she is the hottest one out of all of your exes. And waaaay better than that sorry shit of your ex. I can’t believe you were stuck up on her. She was boring as hell, and I bet the sex was as dull as—”

Jeonghan isn’t sure of his movements, how and when the things ended up in the way they did. Soobin is on the floor, spitting blood. Jeonghan holds the floor, helping himself to stand up from his senior’s body. Grabbing the opportunity, Soobin throws a punch.

Jeonghan falls back on his ass, his ears ringing and knuckles ache like fuck. He clutches his head, watching Soobin scramble on the floor, sliding away from him. Their CEO is standing at the door barking at them.

He stands up, flicking his hand and stretching his fingers. He grabs Soobin before he can go hide behind their head and puts his all into one last punch.

The CEO drags bloody Jeonghan to his cabin while Soobin is taken to the hospital. “You were up for promotion next month,” the CEO scolds, “a director can’t hit a coworker in broad daylight.”

This followed a two hour long lecture mixed with threats of termination. All the while Jeonghan stares outside the window, two birds coddling. Strangely, he is jealous of two birds for having something he once had.

“Yoon Jeonghan!” The head of the company snaps, “do you feel any remorse for bruising one of our most important employees?”

Jeonghan massages the ache in his hand, did he break his bones? He did keep punching Soobin’s jaw until he saw red.

“He had it coming.” He stands up, buttoning up his suit. “I’m quitting. You can write it up as terminated or whatever makes your ass happy.”

—

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”

You wake up with a jerk, disoriented. Light floods your room, blinding you for a second, and someone is singing happy birthday. A cake with a burning candle is shoved in your face, and were those cats on the cake.

“Blow it,” a high-pitch voice screams in your ears.

You blow the candle, still lost in the happenings in the middle of the night. Cheers and claps snaps you out of your drowsiness, awakening your brain.

Seungkwan is busy squashing the remnants of cake on his girlfriend’s face, and your roommate is standing awkwardly near your bed end. You search for your phone, finding it under your pillow, you read the date. Ah, birthday.

Messages from your friends and family flood your phone, a hope births inside you, maybe, maybe he remembered and wished you this time. You scroll through the notifications slowly in case you miss it. None. Tears brim your eyes, stupid heart, why does it still hope?

“Come on, come on.” Seungkwan drags you out of your bed and into the living room, blasting music and orchestrating a sudden dance battle. You laugh at their antics, momentarily forgetting about the heartache.

—

“We should go for drinks,” Seungkwan announces in the middle of you enjoying each bite of cold noodles. “Enjoy the fact you become a year older and wiser.” He stirs his chopsticks around the noodles.

“Overnight?” You raise an eyebrow, slurping in the noodles.

The waiter refills the water jug, sets it on the wooden table with a clang. You grab Seungkwan’s glass, filling it to the brim before the waiter has an opportunity to do it. “Thank you,” you smile at the younger male, assuming a college student working for extra pocket money, “we got it. Go and take a breather.” You shoo him away.

He bows in gratitude, scurries away grabbing the opportunity of a five minute break. You chuckle reminiscing about your days of waiting tables.

“Too kind,” Seungkwan berates, sipping on the water. “It’s gonna bite your ass someday.”

“I can’t drink.” You go back to the main topic, “it’s weekday. I have an early meeting tomorrow,” you set the chopsticks down at the soar reminder, “a round of drinks sounds good tho.” You sigh wistfully, “but what can one do? I’m not young anymore to bound back after a night of drinking.”

Seungkwan chews at his food a little louder for your taste. “This must be what they mean by growing pains. And you can’t handle drinks. It’s better to not have you drunk since we have an important meeting tomorrow.” He grabs the menu from the holder, skimming through the noodles section again. “Their noodles are tasty.” He murmurs, “ah,” he taps on a ramyeon picture.

He flags down the waiter from before who approaches your table with merriment. Seungkwan narrows his eyes at the wandering gaze of the waiter towards you.

“One ramyeon,” Seungkwan orders, “and a drink please.”

“Anything else for the beautiful lady over here?” His dimple pops out waiting for you to swallow your food.

“No, thank you.” You twirl the noodles around the chopsticks, you slurp the cold noodles enjoying the flavours bursting in your mouth.

Seungkwan chuckles, “poor boy. Look at him walk away like a sad puppy.”

“Huh?”

He shakes his head, “nothing.” He sets his chopsticks down, “did you hear that there’s restructuring happening? I just hope I won’t be transferred again,” he huffs, folding his hands, “I don’t want to leave Nari.”

“And you,” he adds, after a beat.

The meat floats in the broth, you dunk it deeper into the liquid. You prefer to not be mentioned at all rather than being added as an afterthought. Being someone’s priority is a luxury you realized, not after the break up, but rather when you were in a five year long relationship with your ex.

The nights you laid on the bed waiting for your lover to join you were countless, his disinterest in your enthusiasm, and his laid back answers were the slow killers. Labeled as needy and clingy when asked for attention was the threshold point. And yet, you begged him to stay.

A green feeling bubbles in your chest, stabbing the meat piece you nod to Seungkwan’s rant absentmindedly. You catch bits and pieces of how his girlfriend suffered from the long distance during his last transfer, and how he was helpless to pacify her. If only you got a transfer and Jeonghan was desperate for you back then, would he have realized your value? Does he realize your value now?

The answer was glaring back at you. You have seen, stalked, his dates and flings profile, how happy he is, smiling at the pictures, posing intimately and sharing something that was yours first with strangers. How can he be happy after ruining you for anyone else? Making you incapable of loving someone else? Why, only you, can’t replace him where he is mingling as if you never existed?

—

You peek from your computer at the manager’s cabin. He is in a meeting with a team, and it doesn’t end for another thirty minutes. You click the third link of the web results for Get Love Quick. The cursor at the name field blinks, waiting for your input.

It requires a lot more than momentary courage, you realized, your fingers hover over the keyboard hesitant. Are you really ready for this new step in life? The silver band ring glimmers under the fluorescent lights, you take it off and throw it in the drawer. You are going to fill in the form and submit it. If you are matched then it is a future you’s problem.

Filling in the basic information was a breeze, you crack your knuckles preparing yourself for the big ones.

What’s your heartbreaking story?

The keys click-clacks under your fingers, momentary pauses, a tear rolling down your cheek. You hover over the exit button unable to articulate it in words, but you don't want to give up. Not this time.

By the time you press submit, the office is half empty. You check for your friend, he is clutching his head and looking close to breakdown. You clock out of the system for the day, grabbing your things and sauntering towards your distressed friend.

“What’s wrong?” You grab an empty chair and settle next to him.

Seungkwan looks up at you with red eyes, softly whispering your name.

“Hey,” you panic, “tell me what happened?” You hold his hands bracing yourself.

“My name is on the list for transfer,” his voice quivers, “I have to fill in an empty position at this new branch.”

Your heart aches watching your friend breakdown. “Is there no other way?”

He pulls his blue tie free, “I am not sure. God, I didn’t inform her yet. I just,” he exhales loudly, “I wanna try requesting the manager or the higher ups.”

You nod slowly, gears turning in your mind. Seungkwan has been a steady pillar in your life even during the times of crisis. He didn’t walk away when you pushed him off your life.

“By when you have to transfer?”

“Soon, there’s an urgent requirement in Yangsan.” he answers, “I hate it so much. Why always me?”

You pat his shoulders, “I know. But I think it will work out in your favor this time.”

He scoffs, shutting down the computer, and packs his stuff into his bag. “It never works out. One suffering after another is the theme of my life.”

“Believe me, Seungkwan.” You smile.

He pauses in his track, narrowing his eyes, “I know that smile. Don’t do anything stupid, please.”

You smile wider.

—

Jeonghan cradles nearly empty whisky glass to his chest, spreading his legs wide on the couch, reclining back. He sips from the bottle watching six friends lounging in the flat yapping on the TV screen, the laugh track accompanying the show irks him. How can one find comfort from this show? He can never understand it, but he never stops watching it again and again.

He sips on the last drops of the drink, shaking it in hopes to get more out of it. He discards it on the floor, and grabs his phone.

His thumb brushes over the date displayed on the phone. He used to be busy on this day in previous years, planning the day to its perfection, wooing his girl with carefully crafted plans and in the last two years buried in work.

He misses his home being filled with delicious scents of his cooking her favourites, her laughter at some stupid reruns of sitcoms. It’s been so long since his home and his life has seen some daylight.

His thumb hovers over her chat, uncertainty brimming up in his chest. He shouldn’t text her, he reiterates to himself. He scrolls through her unanswered texts right after their break up.

Please. I’ll be better.

-baby, May

Hannie… how can you do this to me?

-baby, May

Don’t leave me, Jeonghan. Please, I can’t live without you. It can’t be that easy to leave me. I beg you. I’ll do whatever you want. I will text you less, call you less, and we can live separately and only visit once a day. Don’t leave me Jeonghan.

-baby, May

[Voicenote 1:43 mins]

-baby, May

Jeonghan quickly scrolls past the voice note, he doesn’t have enough guts to hear you breaking down. If he does he will be standing outside your home, asking you to come back to this toxic union. Somewhere his mind nags, was it always toxic or were you scared to admit your wrongdoings?

Ridiculous

-baby, June

For my sake? For my sake you broke up?????

-baby, June

Be honest there’s someone else right?

-baby, June

You wanted to get rid of me to be with her

-baby, June

Explains the late nights and unanswered calls

-baby, June

YOON JEONGHAN YOU FUCKING BASTARD ASSHOLE AND AND I love you Jeonghan please… please reply I beg you

-baby, July

I’ll change myself the way you want Jeonghan I won’t be needy please I will give you your space I would be one with the wall in your life as long as I can see you everyday I am okay with anything

-baby, July

Did you loathe me that bad? I heard you already moved on. Is she prettier? Is she self-sufficient? Is she better than me?

-baby, August

[photo of your date holding your hand]

-baby, August

Ah so you really don’t care about me anymore.

-baby, August

I gave you five years of my life. You could have ended it in the first year. Could have spared me the heartache.

-baby, September

It feels like dying. Is this how people feel in their last moments? How can you be so happy while I’m scraping myself off the floor?

-baby, October

Happy birthday

-baby, October

Good luck with your life.

-baby, December

Jeonghan notices the unsent message sitting in the type bar.

Should we try again

He contemplates on sending it, but decides otherwise. He backspaces the message, he scrolls deeper into their conversation when things are rainbows and sunshine.

Hannie Hannie my dear Hannie saw you again in the sky shining brighter than ever… my sun 🌞

-baby

😒

-Jeonghan

Get back to work

-Jeonghan

He remembers smiling ear to ear in the office, rereading her message in the singsong tone of hers. He was fluid like water throughout his work that day, acing every meeting and task, humming all along.

Saw a baby playing with a baby chick 🐤

[photo]

-baby

Sooooooooooo CUTE

-baby

I JUST WANT TO GO AND BITE HIS CHEEKS

-baby

Can I do that 🥺

-baby

Didn’t know our date is at jail tonight

-Jeonghan

Jeonghan laughs at their conversation. Rolling onto his side he scrolls deeper. He sniffles, tears falling onto the cushion. He wipes his blurry eyes, reading the conversation from another day.

Rant incoming

-baby

Uh oh

-Jeonghan

That freaking bastard retard good for nothing asshole and the worlds most dumbest high paid person. How the fuck he got a job. Mr.know it all knows nothing. NOTHING EXCEPT MAKING MY LIFE HELL

-baby

HAVE TO WORK OVERTIME AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!

-baby

I MISS MY MAN!!!

-baby

(I miss you too)

-Jeonghan

BUT DUE TO THAT FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT.. OH HANNIE MY PRECIOUS BABY MY LITTLE MUNCHKIN

-baby

[Incoming call from baby]

Jeonghan wishes he can go back to the time when you called him all the sweet things in the world. If the universe or whoever is out there, is willing to give them one more chance will he take it up? Maybe or maybe not.

When will you be back? I miss you

-baby

…

-Jeonghan

Come on. It’s been like thirty minutes

-Jeonghan

What can I do?

-baby

Your cum is still running down my thighs reminding me of you 🤷‍♀️

-baby

FUCK

-Jeonghan

YOU CANT PULL THAT CARD

-Jeonghan

☹️ okayyyy don’t worry I pushed it all back in.

-baby

Happy golfing Hannie!!! Win and come home 🥰😘

-baby

You DEVIL

-Jeonghan

I’m coming home

-Jeonghan

😇😇😇

-baby

Jeonghan locks his phone, closing his eyes, tears rushing out. A ripping pain in his chest makes him curl up into a ball, he holds himself, all the pain inside of him bursting out. The silence of his apartment is now broken with whimpers and cries for help. It's been so long since he felt something, he doesn’t want to continue to live in this pain. He doesn’t have the will or fighting spirit left in him.

He messed with his career for the sake of his ex, he stopped going out with his friends, and it's been so long since he talked with his parents. Another sob escapes him remembering how you used to hold him whenever he felt low. Despite the thousand fights they had, you were always there to catch him. You are his sun, not the other way around. He is stupid, stupid, stupid.

He ended things for their own good. He realised that no matter how much you love someone, sometimes you just end up hurting each other. He couldn’t bear seeing you standing in the middle of the apartment everyday mid fight with tears spilling out.

He knows he is the problem, he wasn’t mature enough to handle his love with care, love and affection, the only thing you wanted out of him. He only gave you pain, sadness and a reason to cry. He was the source of your unhappiness. He tried to be a source of happiness, but things slipped right through his fingers.

If only he could be more like how you wanted him, maybe today he would have been curled up in your warmth instead of the coldness of his apartment.

—

The office is swarming, phones ringing, and hellos echoing around. You keep checking the manager’s cabin, eyeing the expressions of the director, manager and Seungkwan through the glass doors. It is hard to catch their words, or read their lips, as it is a few cubicles down from yours. You send a document to print, slipping on your heels, you march towards the printer next to the cabin.

Seungkwan catches you, shaking his head subtly before answering to the director. The printer spits out the papers slowly with a wheezing sound, you adjust your hair straining your ears to catch at least a few words.

“... branch needs you,” the director’s firm tone makes you wince, “or…” you lose some words as the printer whirs loudly, and you swear you heard your name, “..can go in your place.”

“I am not sure,” Seungkwan replies, “I can’t..”

A colleague of yours watches you in suspicion, his eyes darting from you to the cabin you are eavesdropping. Fuck, he is HR. You bow in greeting, laughing, pointing at the old printer dying to print out some documents. He nods, mumbling a feeble, keep up the good work.

You collect the papers just in time the director walks out of the cabin, noticing you, he smiles warmly in greeting before walking to his cabin. Seungkwan closes the manager’s cabin behind him, his lower lip wobbly at the sight of you. You step in with him to his cubicle, “what happened?”

Seungkwan lets out a big groan, “I have to start relocating by the end of the month.” He rubs his temples, “I have to tell her tonight.” He checks the time on his watch, “and she was looking forward to our date,” his voice shakes a little, “only for me to pour water over all her excitement.”

He plops down on his seat, keying in his password. You lean against his desk, thumbing the pages, “you know,” you muster up the courage, “I want to ask for this transfer.” You quickly add before he can jump in, “I really want this transfer, Seungkwan. I think..” you trail off, your voice dropping an octave, “I am done with this city.”

You blink back the tears with a laugh, you set the papers on his desk, turning away from him. “I am planning to talk it out with the manager, and,” you look at him from the corner of your eyes, “ask to get off your back.”

He smiles, tapping his fingers on the armrest, “I don't want you to force yourself for my sake.” He raises his hand, stopping you from defending yourself, “someone going away in my place will loosen my burden but I don’t want that to be you. Got my point?”

“I understand, but,” you meet his eyes head on, “I really want to get out of this place, Seungkwan. I don’t have any fond memories left–” Seungkwan scoffs “–apart from our hangouts, of course.”

With a deep inhale, you blurt out, “everywhere I go, I see us. I search for him everywhere,” you wipe away the stray tear, “I don’t want to live this way. Not when he is happy somewhere, in someone’s arms.”

Seungkwan evades your gaze, clicking on some email, “about that..”

“I don’t wanna hear anything else.” You square up your shoulders, “I am going in now and ask for the transfer.”

Seungkwan calls out your name but you are already at the manager’s cabin.

—

“Cheers,” you clink the glasses with Seungkwan’s and Nari’s. You dunk the contents in a single gulp, a bitter sigh escaping your lips.

“Congrats on the new role,” she congratulates, with a beaming smile, “I am very happy for you.”

Seungkwan sips on his soju, not joining in the party of your transfer and beginning of new life. His girlfriend, not knowing the reason behind his silence, chats away about her new boss and the funny antics of his.

Seungkwan grills the meat, the sizzling sounds of the meat grabs your attention more often than you let on. He places the cooked meat on Nari’s plate, your eyes fall on your empty plate, and the growling of your stomach. You pour yourself another glass of soju, laughing at the reenactment of the fall of her new boss.

“I couldn’t not laugh!” she fans herself, “but I was the only one with a loud laugh. He saw me, I just hope he won’t get his revenge.”

You grab the cooked meat from the grill, and blow on it, “he wouldn’t. You are one hard working person. He is lucky to have you on his team.”

She blushes, fumbling with her thumbs. Seungkwan drops the tongs, brushing her pink cheeks. You excuse yourself to the washroom, grabbing your phone. Few messages from your colleagues congratulating on the promotion, and also sad for the transfer. Your heels halt when the email from the Get Love Quick sits on your notifications.

You open the washroom stall, and lock yourself in, calming your nerves. You open the mail.

Dear Heartbroken soul,

Thank you for choosing us to direct you to true love. We are sad to hear your pain, and with all the shit life threw at you, we just want to apologize on behalf of life. Along with the apology we also want to throw in some delight by informing you that, *drum roll*, your date has been fixed for this Sunday. Please find the venue details below.

Ps. As a tradition of Get Love Quick the details of your date is a surprise. Builds the anticipation *wink wink*.

With love,

Get Love Quick

It’s already Friday today, one more day and then you have a date. Your clammy fingers don't help in clicking the venue details in the maps. You rub your sweaty palms onto your skirt, and try again typing the details. This cafe is forty minutes drive away from your apartment.

Is it worth it? You are about to move away from this place in a couple of weeks. You have to start packing away, look for a house in the new city, and break the news to your family and friends. Who would be interested in someone who isn’t available after the first date? Highly unlikely to convert this date into a long distance relationship. A part of you believes that there’s no aspect of you that will be appealing to the other person to make him leave everything too.

For now you put the date on the back burner. You have one more day, and it's Sunday you to decide.

Completing your business in the washroom, you saunter back to the table, slowing down, giving space to the couple kissing. You fiddle with the promotion mails on your phone, coughing into your fist before sliding onto your stool. Seungkwan hangs his hand around his girl, color coming back in his face. Ah, she does hold the key to his heart, no wonder he was desperate to stay.

No matter how happy you are for them, to have each other through ebbs and flows, watching them, or spending time with a couple opens a part inside you that you aren’t proud of. It reminds you of what you don’t have in your life, or what you once had.

“I’m done for the day,” you fake yawn, “my uber is on the way, I will meet you on Monday.” You sling your handbag, walking away before he can understand the urgency in your exit.

“You didn’t even eat anything.” He points the tongs to your full plate, “why are you leaving so soon?”

“I’m tired from all those meetings, and I am not feeling good. Need some rest.”

If he has doubts about your poor acting, he doesn’t comment on it. You greet them good night, exiting the restaurant.

—

The cafe is in a run down building, the ivy creeps all over the creaks, and the light illuminating the cafe name flickers. Sweet Life. No soul is seen around the empty street, a cat mewls from the garbage can, and rustling of covers echoes. The sun is already setting with an orange hue across the sky. You share your location with Seungkwan just in case, tugging the neckline of your dress up, you open the rusty door.

“Welcome!” A woman greets from the whirring coffee machine. “Please find a seat.”

You bow in a greeting, and turn to the almost empty cafe except for, your breath catches in your throat, one person. Your feet stay rooted, your gaze not moving from him, and him staring back at you with his lips parted. The exit door is two steps away, you can run away and sleep it off like it's a bad dream.

The door rattles open, two sleazy men brush past you, stinking of alcohol. You grab the half open door, quickly slipping past the door, your vision blurry making your ankle twist a few times. You sit on your feet, leaning against the wall, rubbing your eyes and the runny nose with the back of your hand, your breathing becomes irregular. Seungkwan. You need him to tell you what to do. You search for your phone in your wallet, dropping the papers, lip balm and keys on the road.

You gasp for air, breathing in through your mouth, hitting your chest. Five things. List down five things, you see a crumpled tin on the pavement, you smell stinky garbage, and you hear the crack of the door opening. Two black shoes step beside you, and you smell of him.

Jeonghan separates a tissue from the stack, and holds the back of your head, wiping your tears. You push his hand away, shaking your head trying to get out of his grasp. He grips onto your neck, pulling you closer to him, his teary eyes glaring back at you. He cleans your wet cheeks. “Breathe in,” he commands, “one..two..do it,” he pleads.

You turn away from his touch. He sighs, kneeling on one foot, “I get it,” his voice wavers, “I know you don’t want me here.” He wipes the corner of your eyes, and below your eyes, “but let's get you calm down.” He whispers, “please, ba–” he clears his throat “–not for me but for you, okay?”

“I-It’s be-because,” you gasp for air, “of y-you.”

Jeonghan sits next to you, on the dirty pavement, “I know.” He holds a fresh tissue to your nose, “I am sorry.” His eyes run across your face, “I didn’t know, or else,” he trails off.

You grab the tissue from him, and blow your nose, sitting on your bum next to him. “Or else you wouldn’t have come.” You hiccup, folding the tissue, “like always.”

He grabs the used tissue from you, stacking all of them next to him. He hands you a new one. Both of you sit in silence, his shoulder leaning against yours, while you catch your breath.

He picks up your discarded items and puts them back in your wallet, “are you good now?”

You pick on the ends of the tissue, sniffling, why is he my date out of all? Jeonghan clasps your wallet shut, drumming his fingers on the black surface of it, his long messy strands obscuring his face.

He is here, next to you, after almost two years, breathing and you can feel his warmth unlike the Jeonghan in your dreams. But why now? When you were all set to move on with someone, anyone new. Leaving everything and him behind in a couple of weeks. What kind of cruel joke is the universe playing now?

“Better than when you left me,” you reply. The bitterness in your words flinches him, he drops his head to his lap, fiddling with his thumbs. You scoff, “are you nervous now?” How dare you feel nervous?

Jeonghan sighs, “I get it you hate me.”

“Hate, Jeonghan? Hate? You ruined me. You left me to tend to myself. I..” your voice wavers, remembering standing outside his apartment, begging him to open up, “what is the point anyway. Reiterating everything won’t change anything.” You grab your wallet from him, you hold onto his thigh helping yourself stand, “you will still be that bastard and I will still be.. me.”

Jeonghan stands up, falling in step with you as you walk without any direction and your anger being the only navigator. “I’m sorry,” he holds your wrist, turning you to him, “I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” You hit his chest, he stumbles back, “do you think saying sorry will heal me? All those nights,” you are crying again, “all…” you hit him, “those..” another hit “nights..” he accepts all your hits.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that!” You shout. “You don’t even mean it.” You grab his shirt, his familiar warm woody scent cracks your semblance. “You don’t even.. mean it.” You inch closer, nuzzling into his chest, inhaling his scent.

God, no!

You push him away, “no, no, no.” You turn around, running away from him and the dead feelings sprouting back.

Few more steps and you will reach the road. Some taxis should be there for you to go back home. Before you can come into proper light, he tugs you back.

“Please,” he begs, “one chance. One dinner,” he holds your hands, squeezing them.

The streetlight falls on him, you forget your anger for a moment, reaching to his brown bruise on his chin and split lips. “What happened to you?”

He leans into your palm, closing his eyes, tears falling onto your arm. He grips onto your other hand, “please, one more chance.”

“What makes you think you deserve it?”

Jeonghan slowly opens his eyes, his brown eyes flicking across your face, “you still carry my picture.” He holds up your left hand, tracing the print of the ring that used to be on your ring finger.

You shove his hand away, “I’m not meeting you anytime soon. Or anymore.”

You sink in the new details of him one last time, he lost weight, and the dark circles under his eyes are prominent. The bruise on his cheek is dark, and the split on his lip is red with blood. What on earth is he doing with himself? You don’t have it in you to know the reason, scared you will crumble here and now, taking him back into your life in a beat.

“Have a good life, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan speaks up, halting you from moving away. “When you are not wanted or needed by anyone then you cease to exist.” You look in his eyes, the dark ones hold yours, “The moment,” he is towering over you, clad in black long coat, “you walked away, my existence went away with you.” He silences you, pressing his finger onto your lips, “I am an idiot who didn’t realize your worth and,” he brushes your cheek with his thumb, “took you for granted.

“I tried everything, baby,” he rests his head over yours, bending to your height, “nothing is you. I was searching for you in everyone,” his breath hits your forehead, “and no one is you. I am not asking you to take me back,” you look in his eyes, “yet. One dinner, one chance is all I ask.”

When he meets your silence, he calls out your name in a soft whisper. “Baby,” he pulls your chin up, “one dinner.”

And you crumble like a historic building holding years of past, falling apart. You are nodding to his request even before you know.

—

The day’s heaviness settles on your shoulder, the entire ride back home has been a blur. Pushing past the door, you enter your apartment, leaving your high heels and keys. Seungkwan is already at your flat, lounging on the couch, eating your snacks. He springs to his feet, rushing towards you, “what happened? Why are you crying?”

You throw your wallet onto the coffee table, the potato chip bag crunching under your feet as you make your way to the couch. Seungkwan sits next to you, questioning you. Your phone vibrates on the coffee table, he grabs it at a lightning speed, opening it and his eyes going wide, dropping the phone on the carpet.

“Fuck.”

He pulls you into a bear hug. You sob into his shoulder, incoherent words leaving your lips in an attempt to explain what happened. He pats your head, cooing comforting words.

“He is there, Seungkwan.” You rub your eyes, “he is my date. How can this happen?”

“I am sorry,” he holds your arms, tears in his eyes, “I am so sorry. It’s all because of me, I shouldn’t have forced you to–”

“No,” you pick your phone from the carpet, unlocking it. “It would have happened sooner or later.”

Did you reach home safely?

-Hannie

“Block him.”

Locking your phone, you hide it behind you. “Can’t.”

He frowns, “why?”

You drop your gaze to your lap, “we are meeting on Tuesday for dinner.”

The expletives leaving from Seungkwan’s mouth makes you shut your ears. “Hand me over your phone now.” He extends his palm, waiting. Your bottom lip quivers, you give a slow shake of your head. “For fuck’s sake.” He reaches for it, and you hold it with your entire being.

“Listen to me, listen to me,” you plead, Seungkwan reclines back in his seat. “He just wanted one dinner,” you raise your arm when Seungkwan opens his mouth, “only one dinner. And with my schedule, I won’t be able to meet him more than that.” You reason. “I will be away, and he won’t be there. I think this will be the end.”

“End my foot.” Seungkwan snatches the phone from you, and hits the block button. “He is back at it again. Getting into fights, summoned by po—”

“Fights?”

Seungkwan bites his tongue in grimace. “Nothing.”

“Seungkwan.” Your voice is firm, thinking about the bruises on his face. What on earth is he up to? Fights? You knew he had some issues managing his tongue but he never hit someone out of anger. “What are you hiding?”

Seungkwan clutches his head in a groan, leaning back on the couch. “I’ll tell you if you promise me you won’t meet him.”

You gape at him, your lips opening and closing without a single word escaping. Anger seeps into your thoughts, hating the way Seungkwan is interfering in your life. “I am telling you that it's going to be only one dinner!”

He flinches at your sharp voice, glaring back at you. “And I know you!” He fights back, “I saw you. It's not gonna be a single dinner.”

He holds your arm, handing you your phone back. “I am not against you,” he stands up, “I was with you, am with you and will always be.”

Guilt crawls into your heart, god, it’s happening again. How can you lash out at Seungkwan? This is exactly why Jeonghan re-entering your life is catastrophic. The chaos he left took you long enough to calm it down. And now with your behavior you aren’t sure Seungkwan is going to stay with you this time.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize, staring at the blocked contact on your phone, tracing his message. You lock the phone, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,” you gesture between you two, “I’m sorry. I won’t meet him.”

Seungkwan takes your hands in his, sitting next to you, “you have to believe me.” You nod, not meeting his gaze. “I know it seems tempting and you want to have him back but,” he tilts to the side, wanting you to look at him, “he is not worth it. Not worthy of your love.”

Flashes of Jeonghan holding you, calming you and wiping your tears and snort crosses your mind. The tenderness in his gestures, regularizing you out of the anxiety attack, and the desperation to meet you one more time. If this ain’t love then what is?

But you don’t say this to Seungkwan, he wouldn’t understand you or Jeonghan. Your relationship with Jeonghan wasn't smooth sailing like Seungkwan’s is. You had your high tides, heavy rains and darkest sails but he was your port, your anchor, and the morning always came.

“Yeah,” you pull your arms out of his hold. “Go home, Seungkwan, it’s late.”

He is silent for a few seconds, but stands up ready to leave.

“Should I know why Jeonghan is involved in fights?” You ask from the couch.

Seungkwan holds the door open, turning to you, “it's better if you don’t.”

So it is because of you.

—

Packing your entire life and moving away isn’t as easy as you thought it would be. The boxes around you are overwhelming, and yet the packing is the only thing that’s keeping you sane.

It’s been a week since your meeting with Jeonghan. Work has been hectic leaving you little time to think about the notifications of the blocked contact. It feels like a drink is placed before a recovering alcoholic, tempting yet restraining yourself.

Your phone lights up again with another notification of the blocked caller. You flip the phone, tackling the old clothes into a box. Why did you buy all of these? Folding an old sweater your attention drifts to your phone. One call or text wouldn’t hurt, right? Or unblocking him is not going to hurt you. He is your Jeonghan after all.

Shaking yourself out of it you shove the sweater into the box. You kneel down on the floor, bending to grab the clothes shoved inside of your cupboard. Jeonghan’s. Hoodies and oversized T-shirts of his you loved to wear.

You pluck the blue oversized tee, running your hand over the softness, a laugh tumbling out of you at the memory.

He spent an entire week searching for the tee only to find you wearing it one night. He stood near the kitchen counter, hands folded across his chest, pissed.

You didn’t dare to acknowledge him knowing he is waiting for you to give in. Or some explanation on why you searched for the tee along with him when you are very well aware where it is hiding.

You chop the carrots into thin slices and pretend he isn’t standing near you. He scoffs, his slippers hitting against the wooden floors as he approaches you. You slithered to the side slowly, peeking over your shoulders.

Anger is replaced with a lopsided grin on his face, he drags you to him by the shirt. He locks your wrists behind your back and grabs your face, leaving stinging kisses. Hearing your grumbles, and chasing lips for his’ in need of a proper kiss, he spanks your ass muttering, “punishment.”

You stuff his clothes into an empty moving box before it can pull you into the darkness of his memories. Wiping your tears with your shirt sleeve. The phone lights up yet with another notification. Another call from the blocked contact.

A sob leaves your lips, why is he so insistent now? After all these months why is he adamant on talking to you. The urge to unblock him and text him is uncontrollable, but Seungkwan’s words run through your mind. You imagine his disappointed face once he knows that you didn’t listen to him, and honestly you are a little scared that he will stop talking to you. You are scared that the only person who cares about you will leave you, just like everyone else.

Clearing the notifications you shoot a text to Seungkwan.

Need to drop these off at Jeonghan’s.

-sent

I’ll drop by and do that.

-Seungkwan

One last glance at the box containing his clothes you are overcome by the need, and pluck one of his black hoodies. You pull over the hoodie, hugging yourself as you curl up on the floor next to a half filled trolley and dozens of boxes.

—

Jeonghan is pacing around his living room, chewing on the unlit cigarette. He dials your number again and again. Blocked? How can you block him? You didn’t delete him away after the break up, but you did it now? Not when you agreed to meet him for dinner, and he can tell a lie, especially when it's coming from you.

He drops the cigarette on the couch rustling through his drawers for the unused phone. It should have another sim, if he can contact you with it he can end this torture. Going to your house is also an option that he considered dearly, he didn’t want to cross that last boundary. Not especially when you are putting up a wall for some reason. Oh, how he so wants to fuck the rules.

The knock on his door garners his attention from throwing the notebooks and mail from the drawer like a raccoon sifting through trash. He runs his hand through his unkempt hair watching Seungkwan standing outside his door. He leaves the door open, massaging the space between his eyebrows. Seungkwan visiting him will never end in peace.

“Here.” Seungkwan throws a bag onto the couch. The bag bounces off the couch and falls on the floor. “Your clothes.”

Jeonghan turns around at those words, frowning. His clothes? Why would Seungkwan have–ah. He pads over the strewn notebooks and papers on the floor, reaching for a new cigarette, his fingers shaky. The bits and pieces aligning themself, the abandoned dinner, blocked contact, and now—his clothes. He glares over his shoulder at the man who is ruining his life, along with yours. You would never ever even dare to discard a single message from him.

“Don’t ever contact her.” Seungkwan warns, completing surveying Jeonghan’s dumpster called home. “She finally moved on.”

Jeonghan rests his hand on the wooden surface, the cigarette crushing between his fingers. He tilts his head to the side, giving a once-over at the friend of his ex. “Did she, now?”

Seungkwan takes a threatening step forward, “Don’t you dare, Yoon Jeonghan.” He fists his hand, “you are a bastard, and have you seen yourself,” he spits, “do you think she needs someone like you?”

Images of you laughing at his mess and swatting his shoulder before dragging him to clean up crosses his mind. He loved those moments.

“You don’t deserve a second of her attention.” Seungkwan continues, “Go back to your devious ways and party life. And leave her alone.”

He storms out of the apartment, leaving behind a seething Jeonghan.

Fuck rules.

—

You rustle under your blanket, the faint knock on your door stirring you out of your slumber. The night is up outside your window, the cool spring air blowing in, curtains flying in tune with it. Another knock. No one visits you at ten in the night, peeling off the thin blanket you step in the empty spots between trolleys and card boxes. Did Seungkwan need something from you?

Your roommate winces at your sleepy state once you open the door. She looks over to her left scowling. “I tried.”

What? Your eyebrows pull in at the confusion, what’s going on?

Jeonghan steps in, hovering over your roommate. The sleep goes away from your body, nervous system kicking in for the fight or flight response. What is he doing here? His blood red eyes doesn’t move away from you, drinking in your bed head, and the—shit, fuck, his hoodie. Your knuckles turn white from the deadly grip on the door handle, shut it.

“Call me if you need me.” Your roommate steps away, giving space for him to come closer.

He crowds over you, his cozy scent mixed with cigarette smell messing with your senses. You push the door to a close on his face, his hand holds the door, his strength threatening over yours, he pushes it open with ease. If he was angry earlier, now he is pissed. His chest brushes your face, his hand coming over your shoulders, bringing you both inside your room, and shuts the door behind him, turning the lock in.

“Why?”

Desperateness clings to your voice. The grip on your shoulder causes you to jerk back, pushing his chest away from you. He backs away to the door, hands behind him. Your fingers hover over the light switch, wondering whether to turn it on or not. Seeing him might make it harder for you to handle all the emotions. The memories of him you have in this room, the ones that kept you going and also pulled you back, drove you crazy and now with him in the space won’t help you hold back anymore.

The light stays off, the street light falling from your window is the only illumination outlining the shadow of him. You are standing next to the window a few feet away from him, your hands clasped behind your back.

Jeonghan shuffles across the room, his hand tracing the edge of the table placed near the window, a few steps away from you but closer than before. He leans on the table with one hand, another stuffed in his jean pocket. A car headlights flashes across your room, he is wearing the blue t-shirt. He got his clothes back.

“You aren’t picking my calls.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” you answer after a beat.

“You or Seungkwan?”

You snap your head from your fingers to him, “What?”

Another step forward. “You have so many protecting you,” he pauses, and adds with a slight shake in his voice, “from your villain.” He dips his head to the floor, his hair cascading his face.

You prick on your fingers, locking them behind you. No, you can’t touch him.

A chuckle escapes from him, he flips his head back, running his crooked fingers through the hair. “I earned the title.” He shrugs. “But,” he singled out his focus on you, “I would’ve stopped calling if,” another step, “you didn’t want me.” He tilts his head, the light from the window directly falling on him, his frown, “but for Seungkwan?”

“I didn’t want to see you.” A half lie.

His lip curls into a smirk, “you couldn’t lie then.” He nods to himself, “and you can’t lie now. So, don’t.”

“Why are you here, Yoon Jeonghan?”

He is toying with the bobble head on your desk. “Why do you think so?”

The words rattles the last wall you are holding up. Tears prick your eyes, exhaustion creeps up your bones. “Stop,” your voice wavers, he looks up with confused eyes, “please.”

The frown line between his eyes is prominent, he lets go of the bobble head and is standing next to you. His scent engulfs you, clouding all your thoughts. “Don’t cry,” his hand reaches for your cheek but stops, not touching. “Please.” The crack in his voice is too much.

You step away from him, stumbling on the trolley. He stabilises you by your arm. You push away his grip, backing away to the bed. Pulling up the blanket you hide beneath it. A sob escaping. The bed dips, he holds your knee over the blanket.

“Let me see you,” he pleads, “one last time, and I’ll leave. But don’t cry.”

You shake your head. “You are the worst.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yo-you ca-can’t come-comeb-ack and.. and,” you hiccup, sobbing uncontrollably. “Ex-expect me-me to be ok.”

He pulls you into a hug, the blanket slips off your face. He pats your head, “please, don’t cry.” His cheek presses into yours, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “I don’t want you to cry. If being with me makes you cry then,” he grips onto your shoulder, pressing himself tightly, “then I’ll leave.”

“You always leave.” You free yourself from him. Breathing in and out to regulate yourself. “Always.”

Jeonghan holds you down, “if you want me to stay, I’ll stay.” He brushes the stray strands off your face, “but if I’m going to be the reason for you to cry then I won’t. I don’t want you to cry, not again.

“I realise my mistakes. I shouldn’t have been the asshole, and ran away from our problems that day. I’m sorry. Hate me, hit me and slap me all you want till your anger subsides. But don’t cry. You and I, we both want each other,” he holds the drawstrings of your hoodie, “we are for each other. I’ll wait till you can accept me.”

“Lies.” You turn away from his pleading face. “I have seen you. And your fuck buddies.”

Jeonghan groans, rubbing his face in frustration. “I didn’t sleep with anyone. There was no one after you.” He clings onto you, “I did go out but it never worked.”

You scoff, not believing his words. The pictures looked pretty chummy for you to believe that nothing happened afterwards, especially knowing how handsy Jeonghan can be.

“I can dial all my dates and let them speak to you,” he pulls out his phone, opening the messaging app and scrolling through dozens of unanswered chats.

You hold his hand before he hits the dial button. “No need.” Like Jeonghan, you can tell when he is lying or not. “But you moved on pretty quickly.”

“I had to.” He answers quickly, “or else I would have sorted you back. And it wouldn’t have been a good choice.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t happy,” his voice drops, barely a whisper, “and I wasn’t too. And it really gutted me to see you cry,” he sounds distant, like lost in a memory, “I hate to see you cry, whether we were fighting or not. It didn’t matter that I was angry at you. And when it became clear that I was the reason for you crying every night, I couldn’t do it any longer.

“I wondered maybe if I stepped away from–” his voice breaks “–your life then you would finally be happy. You don’t know how much my chest hurt when you were crying outside my door. Baby,” the nickname slips his mouth before he can hold it back, “I really thought you would be happy, and if I had known,” he wipes your tears tenderly, “it would break you this bad, I would not have done it.”

“It’s for good.” You say, “we needed space. I was too much, too greedy for you and your attention.”

“No–”

You cut him off, “let me talk. I realized how it tortured you, I occupied your entire life. I restrained you, what not. I did later on hear from your friends on how.. how you cancelled all your plans and didn’t meet them.” You chuckle, fumbling with your fingers, “and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I am sorry. Truly.”

“I don’t want–”

“And as much as we want to rework on our relationship,” you cut in again, “I don’t think it’ll work again. Not only because of our pre-existing issues, but there are few others.”

He shifts uncomfortably, “like?”

“Like, I am moving away in a week.” You gesture around the trolleys and moving boxes. “I was that needy when you were next to me, imagine us doing long distance.” You chuckle imagining the disaster it will be, the tears shining on the edge of your eyes. “I might even kill you.”

“You are moving?”

The smile vanishes noticing the hurt laced in his words. “Yeah. That should explain the mess in my room. You know how much–”

“You hate messy room. I know.”

“Yeah..”

Silence cascades between you two. He is ruffling his hair, a tic whenever he is in distress. You pick on your finger not knowing what to say or how to.. end things again. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did the first time, right? Maybe this time you may walk out unharmed as long as you don’t remember that Jeonghan wants to try things again. If only it was as easy as telling yourself to just forget.

Jeonghan wouldn’t move from Seoul or quit his job where he put in his blood, sweat and tears. The long nights and weekends he invested, the ranks he climbed are too dear to him to lose now. You aren’t that special anymore for him to resign and find you. Bidding your goodbyes now is the right thing to do.

“I–”

“Where are you moving to?” He asks. “What about your job? The lease? Your parents?”

You hear the unasked question. What about me?

“I am being transferred to another branch. Seungkwan was supposed to go but his girlfriend–”

Jeonghan snorts. “Explains. You are lifting your entire life just for a friend?”

“He is my brother.” You snap. “If not for my father he will be the one to walk me down the aisle. Don’t downplay our friendship.”

“How can I not? He is the reason you weren’t talking to me. Me! He is ruining whatever we are having or would have.”

“Because he saw me. He helped me put myself back when you were galavanting with your dates and what not!”

“This is too much to do for someone else. It isn’t right. If he is chosen he has to go no matter what.”

You stare at Jeonghan in the dark, “this is nothing compared for people we love. If you loved someone then you would have understood.”

Nodding to yourself at his silence, you pull your hoodie sleeves over your fingers. “I am not going to tell you where I am moving to, Jeonghan. It wouldn’t help either of us. I would be too stuck up in hopes that you would come, and you wouldn’t even bother to..” you shake your head, “what’s the point. We are running in circles.

“We had a good five years, maybe four before it all went down. But it's something I cherish for the rest of my life.” You cup his cheek, “have a good life, Jeonghan. Don’t drink too much, or smoke. Clean up after yourself, and,” you feel wetness crawling on your hand, “and, you are a good person. If we had met in different timelines where you weren’t distant and I wasn’t desperate, we would have ended up in an ocean side house with a little family like you always wanted.”

He rests his head on your forehead, his tears falling on your cheeks. “Bye, Jeonghan.”

—

Yangsan is a breath of fresh air. It’s more of a town than a city, reminding you a little of your hometown. Neighbors were friendly helping you lug your furniture up the stairs to the first floor. Your ears strained from listening to them go off about the highlights this city has to offer. Sparkly, full of life.

Their words blend with the sounds of the ocean. You saunter to the balcony attached to the living room, sliding the glass doors. Salty air hits you in the face, a little treat for your sweaty self. The summer sun sits in the middle of the sky, shining brighter than ever you have seen, blinding you for a few seconds. Adjusting to the light, the blueness of the ocean pulls you further.

The sounds of the waves rattles the serene feeling, an overwhelming emotion consuming your entire being. You gamble with the risk of staying near to the ocean, the stench and cyclones, but if you are going to live here for a year you want it to be somewhere you love.

You got a feeling— a hunch, that you are going to love Yangsan. It’s about time.

—

Work at the new branch turns out to be better than your previous office—minus not having Seungkwan. The new role is full of heavy responsibilities as you have to carry a team of six. Growing closer to them was a task, and it took you three months to reach this point.

“Thank you for all your hard work.” You beam at your small team cooped up in the meeting room. Tired smiles thrown back at you. “Should we grab dinner and have some—”

The team is already up, closing their laptops and hurrying out of the meeting room. You have never seen an enthusiastic team for a team dinner. Seungkwan and you had to drag yourselves to the dreadful and boring dinner which was borderline a self-boasting manager session.

Hansol, one of your juniors, is closing his notes and capping his pen. Neatly coiling his charger cable, he sets everything on top of his laptop.

“Hansol,” you approach him slowly, like getting near to a stray kitten afraid you might make it run away, “are you coming for dinner?”

He straightens, rubbing his neck. “Ah..”

“I mean no big deal but the team would be happy to have you with us. Afterall you were the key player to lock in the client. You need to celebrate.” You persuade, or more like try to.

Hansol is known for skipping the team dinners, happy hours and laying low until it’s crucial work. One month into the office, you heard the rumours floating around, Hansol moved back from Seoul. His childhood sweetheart and love of his life cheated on him. It’s his third year in this branch, and he still eats alone most of the time. You didn’t dig deeper, if time comes then he will be ready to talk about it.

You would be lying if you say you don’t have a soft spot for him. You saw a part of you in him, in his absent stares, hunched back, and disassociated nature. Coming out of love can be heart wrenching, imagining a betrayal from the most trusted person is just dying. The dark cloud is always over his head, a smile as rare as a comet. All you could do is hope that he will find his happiness again.

He traces his finger along the coiled charger. “I mean it's fine if you don’t want to,” you jump in scared that you are acting as your previous manager. “But I really appreciate all your help.” You smile when he finally looks at you. “Keep up the good work! See you on Monday.”

Sunhee, your other junior is standing by the door, her handbag on her arm. Anxious eyes on the man trailing behind you. Turning off the lights you cross check the meeting room before closing it.

“Are you going to your cats again?” Sunhee asks Hansol.

“Ah..” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at her for a second before staring at the floor. After a brief moment he adds, “nah, coming for dinner.”

The girl’s cheeks tint pink, jaw slack open. You shake your head, walking to your desk and packing away your day.

—

The dinner turns rowdier than you anticipated. One by one of your co-workers are being sent home, leaving you with slightly buzzed Sunhee, Hansol, and two more of your co-workers waiting on their ride home.

“I’ll pour you a drink,” Sunhee grabs the soju bottle, giggling at the swirling liquid, “round, round,” she mimics the movement with her head, “ah, dizzy.”

You slap her hand away from the bottle, “no more drinks. You are going home next.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaat??!?!??” She cups her mouth, tears springing in her eyes. “You can’t do this to me!!” Coyly she flits her gaze to the man sitting across her, “Chwe Hansol!”

The man, already tipsy with overly bobbing his head, said, “that’s me.”

“Why??” She screeches, “for the love of the god—”

“Amen.” He bows.

You throw your head back laughing at the ridiculous scene unfolding before you.

Sunhee hits him with a crumpled up tissue. “CHWE HANSOL!”

He straightens up, “yes, ma’am.”

“For the love of the god,” she repeats, he mutters another amen, “why? Why won’t you understand?” She continues over his giggles.

His giggles die down. She slumps over the table, her long hair all over the place. You awkwardly look across the two, scratching your forehead wondering whether you should stay or give them the private space.

The team has already gone home except for you three. Sending them home is also your responsibility as the sober one and as a senior. One look at the distressed girl next to you makes you slouch back giving them the time they needed.

It’s no secret that Sunhee loves Hansol. From bringing in his favorite coffee to staying back overtime just so she could leave with him. Countless conversation starters only to end with a nod from him.

“Look at me,” she pleads, “please look at me.” Her voice quivers, “I’m standing here waiting for you to look at me.”

Hansol twirls the liquid in his glass, her words going over him. He doesn’t reply or even acknowledge her words, all her efforts and love are one-sided.

You attempt to stand up and leave them to talk, maybe without you between them Hansol might talk.

Sunhee grabs your hand, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, “if you leave he isn’t gonna stay. Please.”

You concede, patting her back in quiet encouragement.

“I answered you.” He replies after a prolonged silence. “It’s not gonna change.”

Your heart breaks watching tears spill from Sunhee’s eyes onto her lap. Her attention is not wavering from the one boy who is actively avoiding her. You slip your hand into hers, pressing it in a reassuring way.

She squeezes back, a wavering smile and she picks her bag. “See you on Monday, senior.” She salutes, laughing with tears. “Bye, Hansol.”

“Can I drop you home?” You ask.

“I sobered up. Thank you.” She walks out of the table, and her wobbly steps towards the exit.

Hansol refills his empty glass, sipping on it in silence. You check for the notifications on your phone, another missed call from Seungkwan. You sigh, you have to answer him one day.

“I’m a villain in your eyes right?” Hansol’s question cuts through the awkward silence. “A bastard who broke the sweetest girl on the earth.”

You set your phone down, shaking your head vehemently. “No, Hansol.”

He chuckles to himself, pouring another glass of drink. “The funny part is my sweetest girl on the earth broke me beyond repair.” He looks at you, but distant, lost in thought. “I feel something after so long,” his hand is over his heart. “I feel bad for breaking her. But she deserves more than what I could offer.”

You frown.

“It’s for her best.”

His words trigger the angrier side of you. You shouldn’t mix your past with their future. Before you can restrain yourself a scoff slips past your lips.

His eyes widen, “what?”

“If you don’t have guts to change yourself, then don’t say stuff like ‘it’s for her’,” you say, “if you want her then pick your ass up and get your life together.”

Hansol blinks.

“I mean,” you run a hand through your hair, “thinking about it, if you are letting her go because she deserves more, then you should have at least a little bit of interest in her right?”

He doesn’t agree nor deny.

“Do you doubt Sunhee’s capability of decision making?”

“No.” His answer is quick. “Her decisions led us to achieve the highest returns.”

“See.” You refill his empty glass, “she knows you for years, she likes you, and she has an idea of what she will get out of this relationship. So don’t bullshit yourself saying she deserves more.”

Hansol is lost in thought. His gaze on the exit where Sunhee disappeared.

“She isn’t your ex. I can’t say she won’t break your heart,” your voice lowers, “you never know what life makes you do but you can’t deny something beautiful just so you are scared.

“And that’s where I’ll stop. I have already butt in where I shouldn’t have. Do you have a ride home?”

Hansol checks his phone, “yeah. My neighbor is around and he said he’ll pick me up.”

“That’s kind of him.” You comment. “People around here are more hospitable than the ones in Seoul.”

“He is from Seoul.” Hansol clarifies, “he came here,” he ponders, “one or two months back? But he is always travelling back and forth.”

“Ah. Seoul has good people too then.”

“You are from Seoul.” He frowns, “you are a good person.”

You turn pink from his compliment. “Th-thank you. I’ll be right back.”

You take a much needed washroom break. The day has been tiring, and very long. Did you overstep in counselling Hansol? Who are you to lecture him on what he should or shouldn’t think? You couldn’t help yourself listening to him say the same words once you heard from your ex.

Washing your hands you wipe them off with a paper towel. Yoon Jeonghan. It's been six months since your last conversation with him. How is he doing? You are actively trying to not think about your life from Seoul, pushing everything away that reminded you of that time. Sadly, Seungkwan also falls into that category hence screening his calls too.

Jeonghan must be living his dream. He isn’t the one to fall back in life. The grit and passion he has shown is enough testament. He must have moved on by now. Found a girl who is of his ideal type, not someone needy and clingy.

You rush out of the washroom before you submerge yourself in self-pity. This is Yangsan. And this is new you. No more Yoon Jeonghan. No more…

A man in a long black coat catches your attention for having a similar build as your ex lover. You search for his hair to make sure if he is your Jeonghan. Sadly he is wearing a cap. Your steps pick up its pace, following the stranger amidst the drunken men going towards washroom.

The stranger whispers something to Hansol and exits. Hansol’s neighbour?

“Senior!” Hansol waves to you, “caught you in the right moment. My ride's here, see you on Monday.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You crane your neck to get a sight of the stranger but he is already out of the restaurant. “Did your neighbour come?”

He nods. “I have to go. I’m sorry. He’s a bit short tempered.” He winces. “But thank you for all your help. Thank you.”

“No problem.” You pick your own bag ready to leave. “Have a great weekend, Hansol. Remember to get some sun.”

He smiles before leaving.

You pay the bill at the counter, berating yourself. What were you thinking? Yoon Jeonghan here? In a nameless city? He didn’t put his feet anywhere remotely as close to a town. Even your trips while dating were to some exotic places.

Why are you following some stranger? Why are you still looking for him when you ended things with him? When will you learn?

—

You are at a restaurant again. This time Hansol chooses a seat next to Sunhee. During the one month since the team dinner, there have been little changes in Hansol. He has been starting conversations—not every single time but once or twice in a couple of weeks. He tries to attend the happy hours every Thursday.

Biggest change of all is he doesn’t shut down Sunhee completely. He sits in his chair when she comes around and doesn’t leave like previous times. Talks in sentences instead of one or two word answers. All in all you are proud to see the change.

“You are drinking tonight?” Sunhee holds the soju bottle, suspicious of your sudden need for alcohol. “Are you really sure you can hold your liquor?”

You roll your eyes, “I should be asking you that. Do you even remember what you do once you are drunk? Should I remind you of the countless times I have to drag your screaming ass?”

Hansol snickers.

“You too. You were the worst. How can you sleep in the middle of the road?!”

Hansol plucks the soju from Sunhee and pours you a drink. “Enjoy your night, senior.”

He is shutting you up with alcohol but you don’t complain, drowning it in one gulp. Ah, the bitterness. You missed the feeling.

“Pour me one too.” Sunhee shoves her glass into his face. “Why are you hiding it? I need a drink too.”

“Another!” You slam your empty glass on the table.

Hansol fulfills your request. You drain down the contents.

“Slow down.” Sunhee attempts to steal your glass. You slap her hand away. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“The rain doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop soon.” Hansol sighs, “I can’t believe we are in October already.”

Sunhee nods, momentarily forgetting about you stealing the bottle and pouring yourself another drink. “It’s getting chilly. I have to take out my scarves and cardigans.”

“October,” you sigh, dragging all of your hair to one side, “I hate octobers.”

“And that’s because?”

“Just hate it.” You shake your head, pouting. The table starts to spin, “hate it hate it.”

“She’s gone.” Hansol concludes.

“Not even half a bottle? You are drunk only from four glasses?” Sunhee throws her arms in the air, “I can’t believe you.”

You giggle into your palms. “Hehe.”

Sunhee and Hansol sit in silence, dropping everything to watch you, the ever uptight senior, always in control of every moment, giggling to yourself.

“Did you see what I saw?” Sunhee nudges Hansol’s ribs.

He gives an affirmative nod.

“What I’m saying is!!” You stand up holding the soju bottle as your mic, “hello! Everyone!”

The elder men all hooted back. Sunhee grabs your arm from across the table, whisper-yelling you to sit down.

The overhead lights are brighter than your future, blinding you for a second. “Hehe,” you snicker at the futile attempts of Sunhee to make you shut up, “I love youuuuu guysss.”

“Love you back, princess.” One of the drinkers calls back.

Few other voices overlap your muzzled brain can’t decipher. You turn to the audience, “what?”

A hand clamps your mouth shut, another hand dragging you out of the restaurant. “Touch alcohol one more time and you’ll see my—”

You fumble over your heel at an unseen step, falling onto your knees and hands. You giggle remembering something similar happened to you. You sit down on the wet floor wondering when you fell on the floor.

It was related to someone you love. “Loved.” You mutter to yourself, sadness washing all over you, “loved.” You toy with the sleeves of your shirt. “Is he celebrating now?”

Sunhee picks you up by your shoulder, “I can’t with you and this city. I am fed up. Stand up please. I can’t carry you all on my own. Where the fuck is Hansol?”

You lean on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her. “Why do you hate this city so much? I love it!”

“Are you being serious now? What’s there to love about this city? No one loves this city except you.”

“That’s not true.” You watch a car approaching you two. “Hannie will love it.”

“Hannie?” She steals a glance at you. “Hansol? Since when did you two become nickname basis?”

Hansol gets down from the parked car, grabs you from Sunhee helping you into the car. He drops you on the seat, you plop down from the sudden release hitting the roof of the car. Your mind blanks out a second, pain vibrating throughout your skull.

“Careful.” Sunhee chides from behind, helps you sit up in the seat before buckling you up. “Are you okay? Should we go to the hospital?”

You smile, shaking your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

Hansol drives you home. The rain hits the window harshly, the water sliding down in a hurry. Your eyes droop, blinking slowly at the blurry window. It’s October 4th. The day you dread, his birthday.

You honestly thought you were doing great. Going out, talking with new people, actively not pushing away people who show interest in you and even went on a date. It ended on a friendly note but the point is you moved on.

Until a memory or a food or a tv show reminds you of him. In the middle of the day when you hear someone hum a song he used to sing, you have to spend thirty minutes in the restroom consoling yourself, or overwork yourself to death.

Then you realised you can’t tear him away from your life. He is going to cross your mind, strangle your heart, and it will always leave a bitter taste of what could have been if you weren’t scared. If you were a little brave to accept him again, brave to loose Seungkwan over Jeonghan, and brave to face another heartbreak, you would have been celebrating his birthday.

Sunhee tugs you to your flat, holding your arm and keeping you from rain. The umbrella pokes your shoulder now and then, you stretch your arm enjoying the rain drops on your hand.

“Rain is pretty,” you mumble. A little sad that you are already under the roof. “Pretty, just like Hannie.”

“Hannie?” Hansol asks, confused.

“Hannie, Hansol.” Sunhee doesn’t spare him a glance, helping you up the stairs. “I didn’t know you were close.”

Hansol frowns, trying to squeeze between you two to face her. “I’m not close with her.”

“Keys?” She searches for the pocket you pointed in your bag. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up in a minute.”

You saunter into your home going straight to your bedroom. Opening your closet you grab the yellow pillow and fall on your comfortable bed. You nuzzle deeper into the pillow, mumbling his name.

“I don’t think she is calling for me.” Hansol stands at the door watching you cry into the pillow.

“Unrequited love?”

“Or an ex.”

—

The first time you have seen Jeonghan is at a party you weren’t invited to. The infamous yet rowdy party happening at one of the houses near your campus is always the talk of the town—a whisper shared between two, and then three. Next you were hoping you could at least get a glimpse of the dancing crowd and games.

Seungkwan, your almost knight in shining armour, dragged you along with him in hopes of shaking off the semester end exams. You were going back home tomorrow for the winter break, and he is staying back to work to save money.

Girls dressed in the shortest possible skirts, and moderately covering their assets you realized how outdated you are living. The long skirt you are donning is a hazard from the number of times you tripped, and almost dragged a stranger along with you to the floor if not for the wall.

Meandering the long halls, and along the locked rooms, you rest against the railing of the veranda. In spite of the chaoticness there was no one accompanying you, Seungkwan took a detour when he saw his crush from the statistics class. The full moon is shining in the sky, shining tranquility upon the drunk hazed people, and from the clouds eclipsing the moon your gaze falls on him.

He has neck length hair, mostly black, wavy at the ends. Bobbing his head to the chants from his group, “Yoon Jeonghan! Yoon Jeonghan!” He gestures his hand for them to chant louder, cupping his ear with a smirk. They comply, his name louder than the music blasting from a huge speaker.

A beer bottle is passed to him. He chugs its contents in a single lift, his Adam's apple moving along with his each gulp. He throws the bottle to the side, brushing his wet lips with the back of his hand. People burst out in cheers. He ducks down his hair hiding his face, shaking his head once before he flips his head back, his hair forming a perfect arc.

The clouds move away from the moon. His eyes fall on you.

—

Yoon Jeonghan is a final year student you got to know at the beginning of the spring season. Another hushed whisper among your classmates about his scandalizing break up happened at the cafeteria.

“He was drenched!” the girl beside you shrieks as slowly as she can without garnering attention from the professor but loud enough for you to hear.

“I wouldn’t have done that.” her friend chimes in. “not gonna lie he looked hot.”

“And embarrassing! Who gets dumped near a trash can with chocolate milk dripping down their face.”

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

—

Next time you hear about Yoon Jeonghan is from your best friend, Seungkwan. He is going off about his day, your daily ritual before sleep, when he comes to the part where his car has been crashed into (more like scratched but you weren’t going into details and spark another fire).

“That bastard,” Seungkwan eyes flit to you, “pardon my words but that scumbag deserves it.”

“Mmhmm.”

“He was so clearly in wrong, and he has fucking guts to say, ‘how much?’” Seungkwan’s face is as red as your pyjama pants. Should you be scared? “How much?! Where is the sorry and remorse? What happened to having decency?”

You nod. You swear you are trying your best to be empathetic to the victims of Yoon Jeonghan— the girl who got stood up in the rain, Seungkwan who got his car scratched, another girl who got dumped on the first date within ten minutes, another girl who you forgot about.

“If you can’t drive then you should stay home tending your ego.” Seungkwan rants on. And you keep nodding.

He is a menace. You know this, if you didn’t then you would be the dumbest person. But god isn’t he hot. That night still haunts your dreams, his eyes still on the back of your mind.

You hear your name. “Are you listening?”

“Of course.”

Would he kill you if you confess you are developing a crush on his enemy?

—

In a blink of an eye you were about to sit through your semester end exams. Library is bustling with drained and lifeless students, the smell of coffee lingers around you as you search for the row containing the textbook you are looking for.

“History… literature.. AH!” You step on something, losing your balance. You fall on your hands, minimising the fall trying not to scrape your knees. “Fuck.”

A male howls in pain.

“Shhh.”

Several shhs hit your face.

You sit on your bum, brushing off your scraped hands. A head peeks out of the rows of the bookshelves. His frowning eyes soften landing on you, revealing more of him. Yoon Jeonghan.

You tripped over his fucking feet.

“Who sleeps on the library floor?” You scoff, picking up your textbooks.

“Me?” He scoffs back. He crawls out of his hiding space, sitting in front of you. “Don’t you know to keep your eyes on the road?”

Now you understand why Seungkwan hates Jeonghan.

Jeonghan’s lips curl into a smile, as he clutches his ankle, “I think I hurt my ankle. What if I can’t walk?” He gasps, holding his chest.

You roll your eyes at his antics. Yet with little apprehension you near him, crawling to him, peering over his outstretched leg. You poke a finger at his ankle with a frown.

“Does it hurt?”

You look up at him meeting his silence, curling your hair behind your ear so you can see him clearly. His eyes follow your hand as you do it, lingering at the side of your face before snapping to your eyes.

“Ah, ah, it hurts.” He grins cheekily when you pinch his leg. “What? It takes time for your body to send signals to your brain.”

“I can’t believe you.” You stand up, dusting your ass off. You walk away from him, your heart clogged in your throat.

Fuck that was Yoon Jeonghan and you had a conversation with him.

“Hey,” he calls you. You turn around, hair obscuring your vision before you tuck it back, his head tilted to the side, “did we meet before?”

—

The semester came to an end. You heard about the biggest party of the year from your best friend as you are stuck at home.

Grad party of the century, and you are depressed that you missed your last chance of seeing Yoon Jeonghan.

Life works that way.

—

You aren’t sure whether to be happy as you are past the tumultuous student life or sad that you have finally become an adult.

Adulting came with responsibilities, body aches, and magic ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Tiredness is your second nature at twenty two.

“I could have been sleeping but no. You fucking have to attend this fucking ridiculous reunion.” You exasperatedly throw your hands in the air.

Seungkwan feigns a hurt expression. “That hurts right here,” he pokes at his heart. “It’s been a year since we last met and here you are nagging.”

“Gah!” You march into the restaurant, throwing the door open, only on someone’s face. “Ah,” you cup your mouth with wide eyes.

Seungkwan slips past you pretending to not know you while the man you just hit is bent in half groaning in pain.

“Is that blood!?!?” You gasp again. Seungkwan is now running to the others. He is so going to die tonight for leaving you at times of crisis.

The man in the question stands up licking his thumb, “nah, that’s ketchup.”

“You!” You gasp yet again not believing your eyes.

“Yeah, me.” Jeonghan sniffles, touching his nose tenderly. “Why do you always inflict pain on me whenever we meet?”

“What pain?” You frown.

“You forgot?” He holds his left leg, “I still limp from the pain. And you forgot.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “You wound me.” He later on adds touching his black nose, “literally.”

You step away from the entrance to let the customers flow in and out. Jeonghan trails behind you, limping when you look over your shoulder and walking perfectly fine when you look at him in the glass reflection ahead of you. This man—

“But from what I remember I think I stepped on your,” you flit your eyes down his pants, “didn’t I?” You lie.

His tongue pokes his cheek, interest blooming in his eyes as he watches you. “Well played.” He leads you to the boisterous table out of all, “remembering properly, didn’t you palm my—”

You hit his back with your wallet. “Fine! You win.”

He throws you a boyish grin over his shoulder, snagging two empty seats and patting one to you. You comply, accepting it and settling yourself for the long night. The fatigue from work disappears at the sight of Jeonghan’s teasing smiles and intrusive questions.

“We live ten minutes away!” He beams at the google maps displaying the route between his and your apartments. “So when are you bringing me homemade lunch?”

He props his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm watching you suffocate under his scrutiny. You nibble on the chicken leg, suddenly shy.

“Why would I ever do that?” You throw him a heated look.

He grins, finally having your attention on him. “Why not? Korea is known for its hospitality. Are you denying it by not bringing me food?”

This man’s audacity. A flicker in your heart. You toy the chicken between your fingers hundreds of thoughts running at a million speed. Is he insinuating what your overworking brain is thinking?

“Why don’t you bring me food? You can tend to me to,” you pick up the chicken again, taking a big bite. You are starving for fuck’s sake.

“Is this your way of roping me into your service?” He grabs a tissue, wiping your mouth as you chew. “Not only looks like a baby but is a baby.”

He flicks his eyes to yours, cunningness apparent in them. His face glows watching the pinkness spread across your cheeks.

“Should have opened the door harder,” you grumble under your breath.

Yoon Jeonghan throws his head back, laughing. And man doesn’t his laughter tickle your insides, ending with a smile on your lips too.

—

You aren’t sure how you ended up here. It’s been two months since the reunion dinner. Suddenly there are two adult sized kids bickering in the middle of your flat.

“That’s a lame movie.” Seungkwan points the TV remote at the Godzilla paused in the middle of roaring. Not a pretty sight and you are hundred percent sure those canines are gonna chase you in the dreams tonight.

Jeonghan dramatically clasps his chest, bunching his eyebrows together. “You are saying that to an animal?” He searches for his phone, “should report you to animal protection authorities. Cruel cruel human.”

Seungkwan grabs Jeonghan by the collar who just raises his eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

And cue. Another WWE fight breaks out in your home. You pick up your delicate vase and move your coffee table away from them. Picking up the discarded remote from the floor, you plop on the couch exiting the movie and playing a recently released rom-com.

Twenty minutes into the movie with you actively trying to catch the dialogues over two grown ups bickering, suddenly silence fills in. Did they finally kill each other?

Two men loom over you. You gulp, setting your feet down ready to run. Seungkwan makes a grabby hand for the remote only to be blocked by Jeonghan’s body. He rests his knee on the couch next to you, the other leg between your feet, trapping you.

You hide the remote behind you, not letting go of the chance to watch your most anticipated film. It’s Friday night, it's supposed to be your unwinding time from the week’s stress. And you haven’t tasted peace since Jeonghan started crashing in your spare bedroom regularly—despite having his own huge flat all to himself.

He is a wall taking in Seungkwan’s hits. His fingers trail down your arm with a tickling touch. His fingers grazing your waist before slipping his hand between you and the couch. Seungkwan pushes him and Jeonghan crashes into you. His chest landing on your face. Your grip loosens on the remote momentarily as you try to push him off of you.

He steals the remote from you, walking away in a second. Seungkwan berates you while you catch your breath, still feeling the softness of his shirt.

Jeonghan resumes Godzilla sitting in the middle of the couch. The smirk never leaves his lips.

—

Jeonghan is your unofficial roommate at this point. He is on your mind while grocery shopping and planning the dinners for the coming weeks. He hates greens and you can’t sit through another lecture on how we are stealing animals’ food. Ridiculous, yet you couldn’t help but nod along with his points.

After getting used to his antics’ and finding him sprawled on your couch by the time you are home from the office, it is odd to not see him some days.

You will find yourself sitting on the couch where he should have been and lay there for a few minutes wondering. Asking him will make it easier and can put your overthinking brain to rest. But there’s this meaningless fear of him finding out your crush.

He is not home today, and the TV isn’t playing in the background. It is friday and usually he is at home, waiting for you. A sigh escapes your lips as you drop the keys in the bowl and neatly line up your shoes. You pause by the couch staring at the empty couch, what is he up to?

Your shoulders snag realizing there is no movie night today. You can’t slowly find yourself resting against him, some days on his lap falling asleep as he runs his fingers across your hair. Is he on a date? Did he find someone? Is that why he is not with you now?

Sadness engulfs you, the thought alone rattling your peace. What will you do if you see him with someone else? This whatever that is between you two is doomed to begin with. Seungkwan has been relentless about his hatred for your crush, throwing warnings everytime possible.

“He is not right for you. I never saw him with the same girl.” Seungkwan’s words are an echo in your mind. “You deserve more than him.”

But you want Yoon Jeonghan. Whatever or however he is. You like him as he is.

He doesn't reciprocate the same, apparently. You never find him looking at you twice or bringing up dating or anything he usually does. You heard stories of him but not one of them playing out in reality. Does he not see you as a girl? Are you his bro?

Before you can spiral into your downfall you rush into the shower to clean yourself of the miseries.

—

One hour into a refreshing bath and re-energized version of you, you step out of the shower only to find you forgot to bring in change of clothes. Wrapping a towel around your wet body you open the bathroom door to rush into your bedroom.

Watching over your steps trying not to slip and meet the floor, your eyes are rooted on the floor. A rustle of a bag of chips falling on the ground startles you.

Yoon Jeonghan is standing across the hallway still clad in his work suit, his lips parted and gaze scanning over you slowly, lingering. You grab onto the knot holding your towel tightly, the sound of your heart too loud even to your ears. With a shriek you rush into your room slamming the door behind you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You pull your hair in frustration.

Did he see you?

Of course he did. He couldn’t move his eyes off of you.

“Ugh.” You groan into void. How to face him again?

You are prancing around your room—clothed, you learnt your lesson now. Wasting time inside so that magically the night will deepen and he falls asleep. You will go out once everything is clear to grab some food. Your stomach growls, not agreeing to the timeline.

Jeonghan knocks on your door, “come out.”

“No.” The answer is swift, surprising yourself.

“I ordered chicken and beer.”

He can’t know the cheat code to your weakness. How does he know it’s your favorite? You didn’t mention it to him. Did you?

He raps his knuckles again on the door. “Come on.”

You trace the doorknob pondering. Your stomach growls yet again. You turn the knob opening the door, Jeonghan is leaning against the door frame, his suit jacket missing and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone.

You avoid his eyes, tucking your wet hair behind your ear. He inches towards you, lingering for a second before walking back into the living room.

The dinner passes in silence, the usual chatterbox Jeonghan is concentrating more on his chicken. You frown when he lets you pick the movie without a fight or random game. Not wanting to let go of the golden chance you choose the cheesiest chick flick to rile him up. Only for him to watch it without a comment.

In the middle of the movie, amidst the hero and heroine yelling their love for each other, Jeonghan’s hands rest over yours. When the couple on screen is kissing, he interlocks his fingers with yours.

—

“I can’t believe you!” Yoon Jeonghan is pacing around your living room. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Why are you yelling?” You shout back and shrink back into the corner of the couch receiving a glare from him.

“Why? Why?!” He marches towards you, gripping your cheeks. “You exactly know why. Don’t play dumb.”

A storm is brewing in his black eyes, but still pretty, and still lovely. This is the exact reason you did what you did. Went on a date arranged by Seungkwan.

It was okay. Your date was plain, boring. Ending the date quickly, you came home only to find a fuming Jeonghan.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You push his chest, he doesn’t budge. “Let go, Jeonghan.”

“She doesn’t know,” his voice is low, threatening. “Sneaking into my bed middle of night thinking I don’t know, and leaving before I wake up, what does that mean?”

He curls the stray strand behind your ear, “stealing looks, clothes. What is my hoodie doing in your closet, baby?”

“I’m not sure.” You fluster, gripping onto the couch, pushing yourself back into it as much as you can, away from him.

“How was he?” He pushes your chin up, “look at me.”

“Why do you care?” You snap. “You don’t even care. I am going crazy because you don’t even care—mmmph.”

He shuts you up, crashing his lips on yours. You imagined this moment countless nights, on your bed restless and desperate. He would do it slowly, sweetly just how he is with you. But you were wrong. His kisses are feral, biting and, and, so, so Jeonghan.

He bites on your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue. You gasp, your tongues clashing for dominance. Slowly you follow his dance, letting him lead. You are sprawled on the couch, Jeonghan hovering over you, his knee nuzzled just right between your legs.

He breaks the kiss, a wet string of saliva trailing behind his lips. The storms in his black eyes shifted into starry eyes, ethereal, luring you right into him.

“Pretty boy.” You cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, inhaling big gulps of air. “Mine.”

His eyes snap open, a glimmer, possessiveness shining in them. He shifts, his knee pressing into your core. A moan spills from your lips before you can stop it, eyes fluttering shut from the bliss. He presses further extracting moan after moan.

His name, a prayer, chanting the entire night as he makes sure you know just how much he cares.

—

“Don’t panic,” Jeonghan chuckles at your panicky self, rummaging through the first aid kit. “It’s just blood.”

You slam the cotton on the coffee table, glaring at him. The smile drops off his face seeing the unshed tears. A sour taste spreads across his mouth, he doesn’t like it. He hates seeing you cry, he realized.

You weren’t a crybaby, even during the fights and silent treatment you didn’t cry. His heart softens, grasping the meaning, oh, you love him. If you asked Jeonghan later on which moment solidified his love for you, he would point out this exact moment.

You tenderly tend his bruised hands and legs, wiping your eyes with your sleeves. Once neatly bandaged you put back everything in the kit not meeting his eyes.

He calls your name. You shake your head. He sighs, pulling you onto his lap not heeding your warnings. He circles his arms around your waist, resting his face in your chest.

“Home.”

—

You wake up with a jerk, heart beating against your chest like you were running a marathon. Squeezing yourself out of the tangled blanket, you wipe the wetness off your face, eyes.

Jeonghan. You dreamt of him. It’s been so long since you have seen his smile, the dream Jeonghan was your Jeonghan, the one you fell in love with.

It’s the day after his birthday, you want, need, to check who he celebrated it with. Who took your place in his life. You trudge to the living room searching for the phone, a dull pound in your temples slowing your body. Why did you have to drink?

The phone is lying on the kitchen counter next to your bag, and you see notifications from Seungkwan. Twenty messages and three calls. You swipe off his ‘don’t do anything stupid’ messages and open your fake account.

You sit on your knees, pushing your hair away from your eyes. It would be a lie to say you aren’t scared. If he has a girl again you don’t know how you would stomach it. Your thumb shivers before clicking on his profile.

No update. No story. Or any post. You sit back on your butt staring at the dry profile. Did he finally choose to go private? Or did he figure out that bloom_234 is you?

Or what if he didn’t have any girl last night.

You click on his contact, still blocked. Should you unblock him? He doesn’t even know if you unblocked him, it’s been more than a half year. You unblock him before nerves get you. Or Seungkwan.

—

“He is still sulking,” Seungkwan’s girlfriend rolls her eyes, “you know how he is.” She says with an exasperated sigh, summing up the childish acts of her boyfriend.

It’s Sunday, and it’s been a week since you unblocked Jeonghan. He didn’t realise it just as you expected. You weren’t going to push it, or beg him this time. At least you leveled up one bit from being a pathetic loser to a loser.

Call with Seungkwan has become inevitable as he threatened to revoke your right to be one of his groomsmen. He proposed to his long time girlfriend last weekend.

“You would have known if you picked up my calls.” He berates when you pout about missing out on a precious moment.

His girlfriend who was already brighter than the sun is shining like a thousand suns combined in her. The green feeling births inside your chest and you snuff it out before it can blazes over.

“I’m so happy for you.” Your eyes prick from the overflowing emotions. “So so happy.”

You really are. Seungkwan and you have been attached to each other since high school, seen every phase, every embarrassing moment and every key event of each other’s lives. And now marriage.

They both smile endearingly at each other, Seungkwan kisses her ring clad finger before turning to you with a serious expression. Uh-oh.

“What were you doing all these months? Why are you avoiding me?”

You flip the pancake, pressing on it with spatula. “I didn’t avoid you.” You hold the phone away from your face, “I was busy getting used to a new place and settling in. Mind you of the fact I have to set up everything on my own.”

Seungkwan barks into the phone, his voice loud to your quiet apartment. “You are avoiding me now. Show me your face.”

You wince, setting the spatula down and picking up your phone. “Happy?”

“This is exactly how a guilty person looks.” He sits up from the bed, rubbing his swollen face, “spill.”

“Spill what?” You sweat, despite the cold autumn breeze flowing in through your balcony. “Ah, there’s new love blooming in my office. Cute I have to say. Didn’t confess yet, but they are on their way.

“Can you believe Hansol also tried ‘Get Love Quick’ only to be paired with a man?” You continue not giving a second for Seungkwan to budge in. If he knows you have opened the gate to Jeonghan again, he will manifest himself next to you in mere seconds. “Well, that’s that. Anyway, Sunhee is excited that they are going out this friday. She said some place but I don’t remember where it is.”

Seungkwan calls your name in a warning.

“What?” You whine, turning off the stove, leaning on the kitchen counter. “What else do you want me to do? I made new friends, I am not wallowing in self-pity, and I am not saying no to blind dates. What else do you want Boo Seungkwan? Should I write off my life now?”

“Did you talk with Yoon Jeonghan? Again?” Seungkwan discards your rant like removing a cherry from a cake.

“I didn’t!”

“Guys. Guys.” Seungkwan’s girlfriend snatches the phone from him. “You have to chill,” she chides her boyfriend. “And you,” she gets down the bed and walks out of the room, away from Seungkwan. “He is just worried about you. You literally ghosted us for months. You know how he gets.”

You hold the bridge of your nose, letting out a long exhale. “Yeah, I am sorry.” You pick your breakfast to your couch. “It’s just.. Its too much. I mean I am human, what if I did text him,” you quickly add, noticing her alarmed expression, “I didn’t. Hypothetically, I am saying. He isn’t a bad person, you know.”

“If he was so bad, why would I,” you trail off, not seeing the point in explaining yourself again and again to someone who just couldn’t get you. “Enough about me. How’s the celebrations going on? How did your family react to the engagement?”

She lets the topic change with a side glance. “They knew about it. He met my family and asked for their permission.” She huffs in disbelief, a smile on her face, “I can’t believe my family knows how to shut up. Usually, we kims are very bad at keeping secrets.”

“I had to prepone the date a week,” Seungkwan joins in, resting his chin on her shoulder, “her sister almost spilled the beans and I was pissing in pants the entire time. You had to be there to see it.”

You chuckle, taking a bite of the pancake. “I missed it all, didn’t I? I am sorry, I wasn’t there to help you with your big moment.”

“That’s okay,” Seungkwan brushes it off, his girl bobbing her head. “My big moment will be in six months, and I am gonna kill you if you miss it.”

You screech, dropping your fork to the carpet. You promise him to be there with him for planning and executing everything, letting him verbally bind you to a contract having you to be a slave for him as long as he wants if you miss even a small event.

You should’ve stopped yourself, should’ve seen the red light glaring but you concede away blind in happiness.

—

Universe is plotting against you. The series of misfortunate events should speak for itself. It started with a client imposing an urgent task, throwing you off your work schedule. Your heater at home crashed forcing you to experience a free simulation of how raw chill autumn nights work. The repairman is out of town, ranaway to marry the love of his life. Administration is on look out for a replacement. And, you had to catch the new love birds making out at the staircase.

Awkward is just another word as you currently sit at your desk avoiding your juniors. You weren’t mad per say seeing them break rules it's more of a shock, like seeing your sister make out. Sunhee has grown close to you over the days, especially after the disastrous night of her taking care of you.

“Come on,” she swivels her chair next to you, “till when are you going to run away. I am sorry!”

“What? Who?” You blink at her feigning innocence after almost reaching for the bleach to clean your eyes. “Did something happen that I should know of?”

Hansol stretches his body, walking away from you guys with his hands in pockets and whistling his way out. Sunhee grumbles under her breath, “scaredy-cat.” She turns to you, eye-to-eye. You push your chair away from her slowly, scared for your life. “You are almost 30, and you act like you haven’t seen a kiss or kissed someone.”

That hurts your pride. “What?!”

She has a teasing lilt, “but that couldn’t be true.” Her eyes shine, mimicking you, “‘Hannie, Hannie, my Hannie will like Yangsan’.”

You shove her face off of you. “Shut up. We are in the office. And I am your senior. I can easily report you—”

“Who is he?”

“I have a deadline. And you have one too.” You roll her away to her desk. “If you could go back to working I’ll be happy that I won’t need to pull another all-nighter.”

She is back at your side in a beat. “Who is he? Tell me. It’s only fair since you know all of my love story—”

“Only because you shove it in my face even when I don’t want to—”

“—I won’t stop pestering you until you go on a date.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend? I’m flattered that you find me attractive but I like men.”

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” She folds her arms, “on a blind date. With a man. That’s the only requirement for you right?”

“Excuse me!” You are offended yet again. “My bar isn’t as low as you think. I’m one sophisticated woman.”

“This Sunday at 6. Be ready.” She rolls away humming a song.

Did you just get blackmailed into a date?

—

The restaurant is bustling. You check the message from Hansol again to confirm your date is at the expensive restaurant of Yangsan. Checking up on the details of the restaurant, you had to recheck the city and pin code to make sure it’s in the city.

People in their fifties, pepper hair and classy suits, a woman on their arm, file in and out of the wooden doors. You press the black velvet dress, smoothing down your jitters. It’s been so long since you dined in a fine restaurant. Three years to be exact.

How bad does your date want to impress you to choose this place? Can you back out now? Is it too late?

He’s waiting.

-Hansol

You groan reading the text. There’s no way out of it now. You put the phone back in your purse clicking it shut. Rounding your shoulders you get ready for the date, it’s going to be alright. You flick your hair back, pulling your dress a little higher and you climb the steps to the door. A sweet valet parker beats you in opening the door for you. Mumbling a thank you, you wait for the attendee to finish up talking with an elderly couple.

“Welcome!” The lady dressed in a red jacket and red lipstick beams at you.

With a small smile, you check the message from Hansol again. “Hey. My reservation is for table 17?”

She checks her iPad scrolling through her list before leading you through the oak tables, servers tending to customers, different scents of food hitting your nostrils, awakening your dead hunger. All the anxiety numbed you from the usual munching of your snacks, and the dread of the date now settled in your stomach. You may throw up if food hits your stomach but you may faint if you don’t eat anything in the next hour. Workings of your body never leaves you amazed.

“Here you are,” she points to the empty chair, her red lips still stretched wide in a smile.

You look up from your phone reading the sender’s name. Seungkwan. “Thank you,” you bow to the lady. Your phone vibrates in your hand, your life tilted on the axis seeing the man sitting at your table, supposed to be your date.

Yoon Jeonghan is occupying the other chair watching you with his hooded eyes, hard to read, hard to decipher his feelings. You hold the woman’s shoulder before she can leave you two. “Are you sure this is table 17?”

Her perfect grin slips, a frown dancing on her face, checking the iPad yet again. “I am sure. This is the table. Is there any problem?”

Jeonghan shifts in his chair uncomfortably. You made the mistake of meeting his eyes, the darkness in them pulled you in, his eyebrows pulled in, and a breath escaping his parted lips. You can't believe that you are again here, in the same situation as few months ago, set up with Jeonghan coincidentally. He anticipates your decision, not saying a word or asking you to join him. Should you go along with this dinner or take a turn and make a run?

Your comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated as they encourage me to write more! Here is the like to part 2

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen #seventeen fic #svt x reader #angst #fluff #exes au #jeonghan fic #jeonghan x you

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juicykvnture · 1 month ago

Text

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

camboy!DickGrayson x fem!reader

tags: AFAB reader, only a HINT of plot, mutual masturbation, phone sex, webcam use, praise kink, mild degradation, nicknames (angel/baby), college AU

a/n: GULP

wc: 3k | part 2 | Masterlist

DESPERATE SLUTS IN YOUR AREA - the pop-up ads on your laptop are mocking you, you swear.

Girl, you know there are desperate sluts in your area, you own a mirror.

Well.. It’s somewhere down the bottom of a moving box, tossed in a van along with basically everything you own and all hopes of entertaining yourself.

Okay, well you could get started on the pile of college assignments you’re yet to start and the content you need to familiarise yourself with.

But be serious, you’d rather familiarise yourself with some guy to bang you right about now - but we can’t all get what we want, can we?

Your roommate isn’t even moving in until tomorrow, so that’s a plus at least. You’ve got the dorm room to yourself.

It’s how you ended up scrolling for the last half hour, your underwear tugged halfway down your thighs as your half lidded eyes scan the glow of the laptop screen before you.

You gave up on the hub a long time ago, if you wanna get off to something, you’d honestly rather be sure it’s at least ethical, yknow?

To your dismay, every author you follow on tumblr hasn’t updated in a solid week, Twitter is a fucking minefield for hell knows what and you swear you’d end up arguing with someone in a thread before you’d find something you’d actually enjoy.

You rub some mascara out of your eyes, your lashes fluttering open slightly. You can only pray you don’t look like a raccoon right now, just in case your wishes did in fact come true and some guy is just gonna magically appear between your legs to actually fuck you.

You’re not sure why, but eventually you find a link that catches your eye.

It’s one of those cam-chat sites, the ones that claim to match you with people within a couple mile radius of you.

You’re hesitant at first, but they’re not asking you for your credit card information, so honestly, What the fuck have you got to lose?

It’s seen better days definitely, by the looks of things it probably hasn’t been updated since like 2007.

But hey, fuck it. Even if it’s literally just some bot or a dude at a call center, at least you won’t feel as bad. It’s not like you’ll ever meet this stranger in real life anyway, you literally have nothing to lose but an ounce or two of your dignity and self respect.

Eh, you’ve done worse.

ENTER USERNAME

Okay, no point using your name. You’d swear you’d have a heart attack if someone you knew somehow found this shit.

You pause for a second, glancing around for inspiration, your room key on your nightstand, dorm 444.

@444ANGEL

Cliche, you’ll live.

ENTER RANDOM CHAT

Straight to the point, alright.

MATCHED WITH - @BLUUDHAVEN

Desperate sluts in Blüdhaven too apparently? Ain't too far - Ain't too close either though. See you could run into him downtown, but you don't leave your dorm, be serious.

@BLUUDHAVEN: u up?

You blink, staring at your screen. What the fuck is this, Snapchat?

@BLUUDHAVEN: that was awful I’m sorry :p

That stupid little face at the end earns a small huff, nice to know someone still respects the art of emoticons over emojis in the big 25.

@444ANGEL: so.. u come here often?

Girl lock in. This is a porn site, not a bar.

@BLUUDHAVEN: No, actually :)

@BLUUDHAVEN: I do cams sometimes but I’ll be honest I’m literally just here to jerk off :3

“Huh..” you mutter to yourself, at least he’s got a sense of humour?

@444ANGEL: so you’re a slut by trade?

@BLUUDHAVEN: Not by trade, but at heart

@444ANGEL: so how does this work.. are you gonna like whip it out or..

@BLUUDHAVEN: first time I take it? Might be easier on webcam? :p

Okay, logical. You’ll have your hands free!

You’re hesitant for a moment, staring at your laptop. Okay, he doesn’t need to see your face, right? You’re just gonna chat to him for a while.. see where it goes?

You’re fiddling with the Angel wing on your necklace, thinking. Shifting slightly, you sit back against your headboard, your laptop on the mattress.

JOIN WEBCAM

You’re met with him shoving a stack of books off of his desk, one of them eerily similar to the sociology text book you’ve got shoved in a moving box, somewhere between your vibrator and your favourite sweater.

But thats not important right now!

“Hey, Angel.” He says all too quickly, running his fingers through his tousled black hair.

“Who-“ Your eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Your username,” he smiles softly, knowingly, reclining in his desk chair.

Fuck, hes definitely noticed how much of a noob you are now now.

And you’ve noticed he’s definitely shirtless. Zoo-wee-mama! You’ve also noticed some little blue tattoo at the base of his neck. But that’s not here nor there, you know what’s there? His happy trail.

In your defence his hand is right there, thumb hooked in his grey sweats. Where else you meant to look?

“Second thoughts?”

You blink, his words snapping you out of your happy daze.

“Huh? No, no thoughts. Wait, I mean-“

“It’s okay to be nervous, we can take it chill,” he reassures you, never loosing that grin.

“Chill yeah, chill,” downstairs is anything but chill she was very warm in fact.

“Do you want to get more comfortable maybe?”

“Oh, I’ve actually got this really fluffy blanket-“

“I meant take your clothes off, baby,” he looks directly into his webcam, clearly amused as he drums his fingers against his waistband.

You swallow, pressing your thighs together.

Are you seriously about to take your clothes off for a really cute stranger? Yeah, you are.

You can only pray you’re wearing one of your better, slightly cuter bras tonight.

Your fingers curl into the thin fabric of your shirt, bunching the white cotton up and pulling it over your head, hitting the wooden floor with a soft thump.

“Fuck,” He mumbles under his breath, his hands clenching on his knees as he shifts his hips, the grey sweatpants doing little to hide the outline.

You take that as a good reaction, chewing on the insides of your cheeks as you lean back against your headboard.

“Nervous?” He prompts, his hand palming himself over his boxers.

“A little?” You offer a shaky sigh, grateful that he can’t see the embarrassing blush on your face.

“I’ll talk you through it.”

That’s the second time a guy you’ve never fucking met in your whole life has made you irrationally flustered. Fuck, you need to touch grass.

Or yourself, whatever works.

“Sounds good,” you laugh slightly, letting your hand trail along your cleavage, fiddling with the lace.

He nods, “Good.” Ever so subtly, you see his hand start to move, gently trailing his fingers along his bulge.

“Do you want to start slow, trace your nipples for me baby? Can you do that for me Angel?”

You blink for a moment, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip. You find yourself listening to him, offering a small nod as your hand drifts down to lightly trace over the fabric.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, his hips shifting lightly, his fingers tugging at the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

You nod, once again grateful he can’t see your face as your hand moves down lower between your ribcage, pausing for a moment once you get to your stomach, your hand clenching slightly.

He sees your hesitation, tilting his head back slightly as he watches the screen through his dark lashes.

“You okay to keep going?”

He can just barely see you nod again, and his hand brings out his pulls his length from his sweatpants.

“Yeah? Good fucking girl,”

And that’s all you needed to slip your hand beneath the cotton of your panties. “Fucking shit,” all that pent up tension of from all night (morning?), and the general sight of this Blüdhaven guy, making you head lol back against your headboard.

“Christ you sound gorgeous, let me hear you Angel? Please?”

Your heads spinning, you’ve never had to think about how you sound, never thought of the possibility that someone could ever hear you.

But here you are, and he’s all too eager.

With a muttered “fuck,” you nod again, spreading your thighs apart to offer him a better view, your fingers moving in slow circles over your clit under the fabric.

He’s watching you. His gaze fixed on his screen like he’s mesmerised by you, watching your lips part, your lashes flutter, everything about you. You’re not real, no way you are. You’re too fucking pretty and he’s never even met you.

His cock twitches in his hand, and he groans shakily. “So fucking pretty”

You blush, dipping your finger lowers before circling back up. “not so bad yourself,” you try to sound some way put together and he chuckles at your efforts.

“You have me so worked up Angel, and I’ve only seen your pretty tits, Christ. Take off your panties baby, let me see what you like.”

You’re astonished that you don’t even hesitate to use your other hand to slide down the fabric, kicking it to your ankles.

“Fuck baby you look so sweet, look at your screen for me, see how pretty your little cunt is,” your eyes immediately go to the little square in the corner, you’re completely soaked.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight huh baby?”

You flush red at the praise, managing to get a meek “mhm,” out.

“You’re so fucking wet, shit she’s practically glistening for me. So wet over a guy you’ve never met, hmm?”

Fuck, you’re embarrassed now. It’s bad enough that you’ve already had to resort to a fucking chat site, but now you’re getting off on the fact that he’s a total stranger?

“You’re making fun of me,”

“No,” a grin, “It’s cute,”

That has you losing whatever train of thought you had, your head slumping forward for a split second, giving him a glimpse of your hair covering your face before you catch yourself again.

“You pull this shit with all of your girls?”

It’s a weak rebuttal, but you’re not thinking about that, you’re not thinking at all.

“And guys,” he says sliding his thumb along his slit, collecting the bead of pre cum there and dragging it south. His eyes remain on his screen at all times, looking at you through his dark lashes.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“Articulate,” he cocks his head.

“Shut up and stroke your shit.”

“Well I think we both know how aware you are that I’m stroking my shit, Angel,” his stupid little smirk, a shiver running along your spine.

He’s so fucking infuriating that you have the urge to hop through the screen and choke him, or fuck him - or both.

But that’s a bold claim considering the fact you’re drooling over a stranger, acting like his hands are yours. Wishing for a lot more than his hands.

“Shocked you have customers, your bedside manner isn’t really up to par,” you pause in the middle to let out a contradictory whine.

“Well your pretty pussy seems to be all for a little humiliation don’t think? Fuck I wish I could fuck her right now,” this pussy pronoun using bastard needs to calm down with all these reads.

“Shut up,” your eyes roll back, willing yourself to not cum yet.

“C’mon you can’t tell me you don’t wish I was there with you huh? Touching you, licking you, pounding into your sweet little hole hm?” His pace is getting faster and his palm swirls over his tip on each stroke.

“Shut the fuck up,” she gasps eyes screwed shut, “self involved prick,”

“Oh fuck baby, you talk to me so sweetly, what else am I?” His eyes are locked on the screen, your hand moving, your mouth letting out those desperate, divine sounds.

“Annoying, and arrogant and so fucking hot,” you hope the almost shout you let out is enough to distract him from what you’ve said.

“What was the last one Angel? C’mon let me hear that again,”

“So fucking desperate for someone to tell you you’re hot, huh? That why you whore yourself out on a cam website huh? You’re that thirsty for attention,”

In that moment, it isn’t clear what’s weaker, your dorms internet connection or his self control.

His mouth is agape, sweat-slicked hair clinging to his forehead with his lashes fluttering, fucking himself into his fist like he’s some kind of porn-star (he ain’t far off).

Watching him only makes you go harder, your hips shaky as you watch his teeth press into his lip, unable to hide the fucking whines he’s letting out if he tried, acting like the cum starting to drip down his knuckles isn’t there, pretending he’s fucking you and not his hand like some loser.

“Fuck, Angel,”

He’s panting, his back arching off of his desk chair as his free hand goes to desperate grip the table, trying to control himself, to last at least another second,

“C’mon, Angel, fuck..”

His words aren’t more than a broken whine, much like yours as your thighs start to tremble, forgetting about your laptop on your bed for a moment.

He doesn’t stop, he can’t. Not until he knows you’re there too, not until he knows for sure that you’re wishing he was there beside you.

“Please, fuck, please cum with me.”

Your resolve snaps, you oblige him. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and a noise complaint from your neighbours in all directions.

You momentarily black out you think, but when you come back that Blüdhaven guy is leaning back against his chair, head rolled back. He looks like he been put through the tumble dryer a good four times, but looking at the mess in his hands you’d think he had a pretty good time.

“Holy shit,” holy shit, you just had perhaps one of the most phenomenal orgasms of your life, with some guy on the internet and your fingers.

“Hmm,” he practically moans, still in a daze with his head thrown back, this angle making that little tattoo at the base of his neck more visible.

“You alive over there?” You manage to croak out, your heart still slamming in your chest as you let your hand fall by your side, almost wincing at the loss of touch.

“Uh-huh,” His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, staring down at his hand and then back up at his screen, a broken grumble leaving him as he nods.

You’re not real, you genuinely have to be some kind of Angel. He’s never met anyone able to put him into such a state.

Well, he hasn’t met you either.

“Angel?” He mumbles breathlessly, praying that the dim light is enough to hide the flush of his cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“Leave me your number?”

He swallows,

“Please?”

“Shit,” you groan into your hand at the sound of knocking on your dorm room door, rubbing a hand over your face.

It’s probably one of those stupid campus committee things going around. You’re not bothered to open the door, they can come back later for all you care.

You can’t get the guy from last night out of your head. You gave him your number under the premise of living on the edge for once in your life. You don’t expect him to call you, you don’t expect to see him like.. ever.

He does this like professionally, you’re just one of his girls - not even.

Another knock to the door disturbs your peace again, the sound of shoes shuffling outside your door.

“Give me a minute!”

You pull on a tank top, fixing your hair in an attempt to look somewhat decent when you inevitably have to open the door and tell these early birds to fuck right off.

You stumble out of your bedroom with a grumble, your socked feet thumping lightly against the creaky flooring.

“Hey, I’m not interest-“

Fuck.

There he is in the fucking flesh, standing at your door with a sheepish smile and a moving box.

You blink, digging your fingers into your palm to snap yourself out of whatever fucked up sex dream you’re having right now, staring at the guy standing in your doorway.

“Hey, this is room 444 yeah? I just got assigned here and I’m fucking lost.” He lets out a soft chuckle, rooting around in his pockets in efforts to show you his own key.

“Yes?” You murmur, the shakiness in your tone doing little to hide how aghast you are.

You have to double check, glancing over him like he’s got three fucking heads. He’s got the messy black hair, the boyish grin, that fucking tattoo at the base of his neck.

“Hey, you alright?”

His words snap you out of it, your nails digging into the doorframe like you’re about to rip the entire thing from its hinges.

“Yeah?”

You’re met with a slightly awkward nod, a far cry from whatever the fuck happened last night.

“Okay, good. I’m sorry I’m early, the train from Blüdhaven is a whole mess.”

You tilt your head, staring at him.

“Shit, my bad. Uhm, name’s Dick, Dick Grayson.” He offers, one hand fumbling to keep the box he has upright, the other now extended towards you.

Those same hands you wish were the ones fucking you last night, fuck, you need to lie down.

“Hey,”

Your words are far fucking shakier than you’d like, but how are you supposed to react?

He smiles, stepping inside your now shared dorm, glancing around and then at your slightly dishevelled form, offering another one of those little smiles that genuinely make you want to curl up and die on the spot.

“Rough night?”

He ain’t got a fucking clue.

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

He nods, setting his box down on the coffee table, his eyes roaming over you for a moment more.

“Nice necklace.”

“Hm?” You blink.

“The Angel thingy, it’s cute.”

a/n: ITS TONGUE IN CHEEK DANIELLE!!

thank u @ccmf02 for proofreading and everything!!

part 2

Thank you for reading!!

I have motivation so reqs/asks are open

#dc comics #nightwing x reader #dc x reader #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x fem!reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dc smut #dc imagine #dick grayson x you #richard grayson #batfam x reader #Spotify #batboys x reader

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lilacgaby · 9 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

#i love this au isjsjsjdjd #lilac speaks꧂#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo drabble #mha x you #bakugo oneshot #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo mha #nanny!reader #prohero!bakugo

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lily-bisque · 4 days ago

Text

ＷＡＹＯＵＴＴＨＥＲＥ 𖠰 ⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

volume four — eternal life

✦ ── pairing: lumberjack!sukuna x citygirl!reader

✦ ── contents: lost in the forest au, forced proximity, bantering, angst, trauma/torture aspects, minor injuries, eventual romance, eventual smut, no use of y/n, more tags to be added.

✦ ── a/n: listened to a ton of jeff buckley and novo amor writing this. hope you guys enjoy <3. again, check out the playlist for the curated mood and for a forehead kiss.

✦ ── word count: 4.6k

archive ─ playlist

series masterlist - previous volume - volume five

art by outdmilk on twt

“Didn’t ask for a maid, still don’t need one. Not gonna get on my knees and thank you neither.”

In the bathroom, your knee bobbed up and down, a fiery rage still swirling a tempest storm within you. You had to bite your lip to cease your incessant huffs that began to bubble over like a whistling kettle, nearly tasting copper from the pressure, eyes watering at your embarrassment.

You flexed your fingers open and closed, trying desperately to slow your breathing, but to no avail.

Besides your snarky personality, you’d been nothing but kind to Sukuna—save for the incident in the woods, but that was when you were in intense pain. He couldn’t blame you for that.

You’d made him breakfast and cleaned up his place, and though you weren’t expecting a ‘thanks,’ you would appreciate him at least treating you like a person. You even groomed his dog for God’s sake.

You didn’t want to be here any more than he wanted you here—so he could cut the act of you being some pesky girl hovering around him like a mosquito and sucking him of his livelihood.

How much longer would you have to endure such an easily riled man no matter what you did?

The cruel familiarity of his words were no comfort either—only cracking open a wound you’d scabbed over long ago.

But what managed to piss you off the most was that the sole reason you’d come to the woods was now somehow tainted with everything you’d been trying to escape.

The bathroom door creaked, a shadow shuffling below the crack. You could hear the huffs of Sukuna’s breath, quiet and steady, though you could tell he was deep in thought. Or at least you hoped he was after whatever the hell that was outside.

He settled to the ground, back against the bathroom door, eyes dialed in on his bedroom before him. His eyes studied the medullary rays across the wooden frame, small pathways branching out and clawing the across to the end.

You didn’t jaw a peep. If anything, you were steadily holding your breath, Sukuna having you cooling your heels.

He called your name out, gruff and irritated.

You kept your mouth shut.

He sighed, knocking his head back against the wood and squinting his eyes, trying to decipher the emotions coursing through him. “You gonna live in there forever?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “If it means I don’t have to deal with you.”

He doesn’t understand why hearing your voice felt like the smallest bit of consolation. “I’m afraid that’s not gonna work.”

“You’re an asshole,” you blurted, worrying your lip between your teeth, peeling the skin and feeling your skin flare in heat.

“I know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, the hum of the bathroom fan coming to a quiet drone in the back of your mind. “You know?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitated this time. “You’re a dick, too.”

He grunted, tossing his arms over his knees. “Shut up and come out. I, uh. I wanna show you something.”

You scowled, cracking your knuckles as you heard the wooden planks shift below Sukuna’s weight as he came to a stand.

His shadow remained still in that little sliver, and you could feel your mood sharply sour when you’d realized he’d stomped inside with his boots still on.

You came to a stand, flinging the door open and already releasing a slew of curses. “You’re fucking unbelievable, I just mopped the—.”

Your voice was immediately muffled as he stuffed… fabric (?) into your face.

Pawing him off of you, you pulled whatever he’d shoved at you into your hands just to see he’d handed you those ugly jorts from earlier and a graphic t-shirt.

He just stood there, eyeing you casually, though you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes searched yours charily.

Clenching your teeth, you dropped your hands to your sides. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

He pushed air from his nose before walking away. “Nah. Get changed and c’mere.”

𖠰 ✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧🪵𓇢𓆸

You’d put the outfit on—not without huffing and cursing under your breath in his bathroom—after peeling Sukuna’s massive attire off, forgetting how it felt to wear clothes that actually decently fit you.

The top he’d handed you was clearly from some grunge store, thick lettering across the front with flames and guns and skulls, and the words METALLICA in bold.

Hopping your way out of the bathroom, you peered around the kitchen and living room to find it empty, but just past the open drapes you could see Sukuna tossing a bone, Uraume wagging their tail and chasing after it.

“What do you want?” You shot with venom on your tongue, waddling down the steps you’d come to know, spots where your weight would cause squeaks and to avoid protruding nails.

Sukuna folded his arms over his chest, watching you nearly snag your bandaged foot just to see the wrap come loose. He grunted, brushing past you and into his house in a mere few strides.

Your eyes dialed in on the ground before you, eyes narrowed in a focused reverie to avoid tripping and embarrassing yourself further.

Within seconds, Sukuna came back out with the first aid box and his hat, and wrapped a beefy arm around your midsection.

Your eyes flew wide, the world flipped upside down as your maw hung agape. Your vision met his back, effectively tossed over his shoulder in one fell swoop to have your stomach heaving.

You brought a hand down to smack his back, legs flailing as you desperately tried to pry yourself free. “Put me down, you oaf!” You shrieked, writhing in his grasp.

“Pipe down,” he growled, one bulging arm wrapped around the backs of your knees and the other carrying the first aid kit, effectively dwarfed in his meaty hand.

“No! I said put me—” You felt yourself begin to fall backwards, Sukuna’s hand cradling the back of your head as he laid you down on a patch of grass.

Blood drained from your face as you actualized the proximity.

One large arm was still cradled along your waist, his face mere inches from yours as his hand pressed into your scalp, draining any sense of rationality from your short-circuiting brain through his finger tips.

He then slid his hand from your head and allowed himself to steady upright by placing it beside your face in the greenery.

He smelled like Marlboro Reds.

Time felt still for a moment, eyes following the flow of the sooty work permanently decorating his face. You foolishly wondered if it hurt for him to get them—if he’d huff and grunt and blink back the tears while the artist endured whatever curses he spewed at them.

And in a rash and senseless motion, your finger reached up and skimmed the edge of his cheek, following the inky trail in nothing but mesmerization and keenness. His skin was unexpectedly soft.

You could feel Sukuna stiffen, his muscles tensing as an annoyed growl left his lips.

And then you couldn’t feel him anymore.

He sat up, mumbling something about how you needed to be placed into an insane asylum while he shuffled through the box in his grasp to pull out bandaids.

All you could do was stare up at the sky, wondering why your finger tip was cold.

His hands were cradling your calf, eyeing your wound suspiciously after he’d stripped it of the dressing. “You said you changed it.”

“I did.”

“So not only are you irritating, but you’re a liar, too,” he scoffed.

You couldn’t help the giggle you let out at that, not able to defend yourself as you’d kept forgetting to check the bandage.

His hands worked to clean your wound, not without you wincing and twitching in his hold, but he held firmly. The ointment was cool and sharp like ice, your hands digging into the dirt behind you as you watched him work.

Venerated, your eyes followed the trails of the wide ink markings across his arm that matched his face, curiously tilting your head as your mind worked. Reasons unbeknownst to you, wonder was stitched into every seam of your making.

Every here and there, he’d find your stare and cast you with a look that sent piercing daggers, to which you’d bite your cheek and peer away.

Still, you weren’t sure if you had much of a place to ask.

You’d fix your wide orbs on spots around you—watching as summer slipped into solstice arms, the world cast in a golden charm, a sweet and gentle surrender.

“It should only take a few more days before you can properly walk on it,” he stated, placing your leg on the grass once he’d finished. He averted his gaze from you, mindlessly staring at his front door, voice now lower. “You’re welcome to stay until then.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in return, eyes dancing across his stern side profile before your lip tugged upwards curiously. “Is this your way of apologizing to me?”

He scoffed, casting his cheek to you before laying on the ground beside you, a hand over his midsection as he pulled his hat over his face. “You talk too much.”

Wiggling your foot, you squinted your eyes as you eyed his careful patchwork. “You don’t talk enough.”

The next few minutes were silent, not stifling but easy. Like midsummer air.

You leaned back on your elbows, mere feet from Sukuna who’s breaths were slow and heavy. He must’ve fallen asleep.

It’d make sense. He’d had quite the day—you could only assume as a guy who chopped wood in his free time.

The skyline past the pine trees was spun orange hues melting into an auburn red, and you think that right between them could’ve matched Sukuna’s stark hair. It seemed well-kept, which was surprising for a man living on his own in the forest.

The brush tickled your arm, and most people would’ve found it uncomfortable to be splayed out on itchy grass but you found an odd warmth in it. It smelled of honeysuckle and damp moss.

You couldn’t see the sun past his house, but you assumed it was falling and kissing the skies farewell for now. Praying to see another day as the stars would soon glitter the horizon.

You dropped your head, a few twigs prodding your scalp, but you didn’t move.

You didn’t know how badly you’d needed quiet all this time.

Back home, you’d fall asleep to the bustling of late traffic and night owls, and awake to the early birds starting their day before they’d have their coffee and honk at each other like territorial mockingjays.

But now, all you could hear were the quiet chirps of canaries, the ticking of cicadas, and the steady breaths of the oaf beside you.

You glanced over, his hat covering his enter face, arms folded over his chest that lifted up and down rhythmically.

He was the kind of guy who’d have no issue falling asleep outside.

Uraume seemed to have given up on playing catch, calling it a night and pawing over to their dogshed.

It felt like you were the only person alive right now.

In your own little bubble, you were the only one to watch time patter on, not a single other pair of orbs to witness it.

Sun marked your bare calves, a soft burn that had every hair standing on edge as your brain dazed into a summer night's musing.

Your hand lifted over to the edge of his hat, carefully lifting it to take a peak.

Curling your fingertips against it, your slow deliberation worked in your advantage, earning a glance at Sukuna’s resting profile.

Those deeply marked creases that had been carved into him over time seemed to have come to rest, smoothing out his complexion into something gentler.

His jaw didn’t look clenched like it did whenever he was around you.

You wonder what he must be dreaming about. If he was dreaming.

However, your curious train of thought was quickly broken as you felt a pair of fingers wrap firmly around your wrist.

You let out a stifled yelp, flinching as your gaze followed Sukuna’s incredibly quick hand.

“What are you doing?” He grunted, expression hardening though he had yet to open his eyes.

“I- Uh—,” your heart thrummed in your chest, netted in the act of prodding once again to a man who forbade it so fervently. You needed to think quick. “You said you were going to show me something,” you whispered, voice mousy as you emphasized each word, confidence unraveling like caught thread.

He opened his eyes, casting his gaze over you. His arrant crimson irises flickered with something akin to fostered suspicion, before he loosened his firm grip and tugged his hat off. “Uh, yeah.”

You shivered, dropping your hand.

You ignored the scars you saw littering his knuckles.

Thankfully, his grip wasn’t tight or anything, just unmoving enough to make you jittery.

Rule of thumb: Don’t touch Sukuna. Got it.

You dropped your head back onto the grass, your heart thumping along with the calls of the crickets as your trepidation came to a slow halt.

“You said you’re from the city, right?” He dragged a hand across his face, then tossed it behind his head to rest against.

“Oh, yeah. Lived in Yokohama all my life.”

He was quiet for a few moments, sight fixed on the sky blankly, before he spoke up. “You ever sky gazed before?”

You rested your hands against your stomach, peering over at him with a curious and pure gleam coloring you like a child had just been introduced to dinosaurs. “I’ve never had the chance to. Light pollution and all…” you trailed off, looking back at the sky with wonder. “Can you see stars from here?”

He hummed. “But not until the sun is down.”

And so the two of you waited.

You’re not sure how long you did, lost in a quiet spell like you'd been placed in a doorway between reality and a tender dream.

All warm light drained, day sky devoured and replaced by a mix of blue and purple auroras to color the black canvas. Twinkling stars kissed midnight in white gleams.

Your lashes felt heavy, but your eyes were still full of intrigue and thrill.

For the first time since you could remember, you didn’t feel like the world was caving in on you. Like the world was just waiting for you to finally give in and be swallowed whole.

“I was invited to a wedding,” you blurted out, all sense of silence tucked beneath your tongue.

You couldn’t tell if Sukuna reacted, your eyes fixed on the flicker of a star.

Nevertheless, he stayed quiet.

“The invitation I received… it was from my ex-husband.” You breathed out, feeling your rigid shoulders droop.

A sinner perched in a confessional, misplaced and bitter and bruised. The only cold comfort was the moon tethered to the skies.

”Ex-husband, huh?” He queried, voice a distant whisper.

“Yeah. Divorced last year.”

And this time, Sukuna stirred—turning his head in his palm to fix you with an incredulous stare you couldn’t see but feel burning you. “Yer kidding.”

You chuckled, though it was nothing short of dry and pitiful. “Seems he found himself a proper wife. Weddings’ not too long from now.”

Sukuna eyes bore into you, heavy and thick with judgement. “Okay, then. So what?”

Your eyes met his, shoulders caging up once more. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

He broke your stare, lazily shrugging his shoulders as he looked back up, eyes registering nothing between him as the cogs in his mind spun. “Why’s it matter what he does?”

You opened your mouth, defenses already loading themselves, before you paused.

Why does it matter?

You found yourself staring at his side profile, fixed in nothing but displeasure despite his incredibly softening words.

You shouldn’t care—you could barely tolerate your ex-husband. And he clearly couldn’t tolerate you either.

Sukuna didn’t push. He didn’t need to know your story before stumbling upon you in the forest. He only sees what he has to deal with before you’re healed and out the door.

It was true, it shouldn’t matter. But you couldn’t shake that off as easily. You lived it.

Regrettably, the life of a wife was still engraved into every fiber you were composed of, bleeding into each sorry part and staining it for everyone to witness.

Or at least you thought. You wondered if everyone could see the chipped and cracked edges of you.

The grief had been so heavy, you had nowhere to place it—clung to you like a thick coat you couldn’t shed.

The years spent in a disgustingly loveless marriage to a sleazebag that looked at you like property, accused you and your womb of things no woman should hear.

The proud look on your parents faces when they saw that you were finally settling down, done with the prancing around as an unmarried woman of your age.

And to a man with such status, they couldn’t believe it to be true.

Neither could you. Not until you’d bore witness to his dull, true colors previously brightened with rose-tinted lenses.

You’d rushed into it—a rich, and dashingly charming man with dyed blonde hair. You’d been attracted to his arrogance, assuming it’d be tall enough to build the both of you up.

You were woefully wrong.

“So what’s your story?” You found yourself inquiring, worrying your lip between your teeth.

He scowled, nose scrunching as if he’d just smelled something putrid. “Not everyone’s got a sob story.”

You giggled, leaning on your palm as you watched him reject your entire being in real time. “You saying that is making me think you’ve got one,” you pushed with a grin, leaning closer.

His molars grinded against each other, wishing he could head inside and feed you to the wolves but it seemed the jagged edges of his common logic were frayed. “I ain’t got nothing to tell,” he growled, placing a hand against your looming face and shoving you away.

You gasped, but then began to paw off his claws with giggles, knowing you’d gotten under his skin. “How long have you lived here?” You started. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than you if anything, so it couldn’t have been too long.

“Long as I can remember,” he curtly replied.

Wow. “Alright, don’t have to go and tell me your whole life story,” you dryly and sarcastically taunted, itching your scalp in an attempt to ward off your irritation.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

You rolled your eyes, but still you were desperate for some conversation. “You get into a lot of fights?”

“Huh?”

You pointed at his knuckles, not even caring about your bluntness, to which he moved away as if you’d somehow burned him. “Your scars.”

He waited a beat before replying. “Something like that.”

You shrugged off his deflection with a ‘whatever,’ gaze lingering back towards the sky.

And like a magnet drawn to another, Sukuna felt oddly compelled to begin speaking. Yet, you beat him to the bush.

“I don’t think anyone noticed I got lost in the woods,” you whispered, hoping your quiet admission would disappear with the night.

Sukuna huffed indignantly, but you didn’t know what to make of it.

You brought a limp forearm to your face and casted it over your eyes lazily. “I wonder how long it’ll take for them to notice.”

Your tone was dry, but anyone could make out how defeated you sounded.

Sukuna’s mouth went dry, eyes dancing across the black canvas desperately. “Open your eyes.”

You groaned, tugging your arm off and glancing over at him.

He lifted an arm, pointing at the sky. “Over there.”

You followed his direction, pointer finger directed at a cluster of stars hung gracefully. “What am I looking at?”

He huffed. “You're not the smartest cookie in the jar. It’s a constellation.”

You beamed at the information, brushing over how he’d just insulted you. “Wait, wait! Where?” You sat up on your elbows, eyes fixed on the spot he pointed out.

“Follow my finger,” he mumbled, fingertip drawing out the constellation before your eyes.

And you did, eyes dragging with his, a childlike wonder twinkling in your irises.

“That constellation is-“

“Lupus.” You interrupted in awe, mouth hanging open slightly as you cocked your head, able to make out the creature's shape.

Sukuna’s eyebrow arched, surprised at your knowledge.

You gazed down at his sudden silence, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your features, a soft simper on your lips. “Not the smartest but definitely close.”

Sukuna’s brows furrowed, irked at your sarcasm despite every nerve in his body betraying him. “Not that close.”

You shrugged, facing the sky again and hugging your knees.

Sukuna stared at your back, pulling his cigarette box from his pockets. He placed it between deft fingers, pulling it to his mouth before fumbling for his lighter and sliding his thumb against the spark wheel.

Within moments, the scent of smoke you easily could associate with Sukuna or the back alleys of Yokohama at night, wafted into your nostrils, making you scrunch your nose instinctively.

He hummed, the smoke billowing from his pursed lips.

“Give me one.”

Sukuna’s eyebrows raised. “City girl wants a smoker?”

You pushed air from your nose, unimpressed. “I just said that.”

He hesitated. “Have you ever smoked before?”

You remained quiet, shuffling uncomfortably.

Sukuna chuckled, low, enough to send goosebumps dancing across your bare skin that had nothing to do with a soft night chill. “Here.”

He sat up, shoving a hand into his pockets to dig out the box and handed you a cigarette. You held it awkwardly between your thumb and forefinger, eyeing it suspiciously and suddenly regretting your burst of confidence.

“It’s not gonna eat’cha,” he gruffed, jutting his chin at you.

You frowned, placing it between your lips.

“Cup your hands.”

You obeyed, curling them around the cigarette to avoid the breeze snuffing out the blaze.

He held the lit lighter against the butt, just for a few seconds. Enough for it to burn, sending smoke into your mouth and down your lungs.

You jerked away, coughing up a fit as it seared your insides, clinging to the lining of your esophagus and singeing the hairs in your nostrils.

Sukuna found an odd sense of humor in your distress. He took the cigarette from you and crushed it before tossing it somewhere, placing an arm behind your back on the grass and laughing to himself as his head lolled. “Not so bad, right?”

“The hell do you mean ‘not so bad?’” You retorted with a hoarse voice, wanting to dip yourself into a lake and clean yourself from the prints of smoking. “I feel like I just inhaled fumes.”

Sukuna cocked his head in thought, an uncharacteristic grin on his sharp features. “You technically kinda did.”

You glared up at him, the barely-there buzz from one hit tickling the edges of your psyche.

Sukuna peered down at you, the distance between you suddenly shortened.

He hollowed out his cheeks, his cigarette hanging between his middle and forefinger, before he inhaled it sharply through his mouth and out of his nose.

His expression was unreadable, as if wheels were turning in his mind, possibly trying to understand you.

Your eyes swam with skepticism, just 24 hours with this man and you couldn’t understand him. “Why’d you let me stay with you?”

He didn’t falter, just blinked at you for a moment, before looking away. “Dunno.”

You frowned at his reticence, but nonetheless bit your lip. Most people would’ve just given you directions and sent you off with thoughts and prayers, not bothering to take you in the way he did.

If you hadn’t run into Sukuna, who’s to tell you wouldn’t be dinner to a pack of wolves for the next few days, a forgotten corpse turned into nothing but a bag of bones.

You couldn’t help but question what kind of person he was.

“Gets quiet out here,” he started up again, pulling his knees up just to toss his arms over them. “Just me and that mutt.”

You stared wide-eyed at his large form beside you, an odd ache in your chest at his admission.

Who knows the last time he’d had a proper conversation with someone that wasn’t small talk at the work?

He peered over at you, his scowl flinching before he flicked his cigarette to the ground. “Fuck you makin’ that face for,” he grumbled.

You hadn’t even noticed the watery orbs you’d been giving him, shaking your head and wiping the backs of your hands on your eyes. “Shut up. I’m an empath.”

He snorted at that, wanting to shove your face again when he heard you sniffling. “You hungry?”

You nodded quickly, to which he rolled his eyes at.

He stood up, rising to his feet and dusting off his jeans. He grabbed his hat and jacket and strode back inside, you on his tail.

Shutting and locking the door behind you, you watched Sukuna’s form pace around the kitchen. Wandering over to the kitchen table, you plopped down and watched him work.

He’d grabbed his toaster from a cabinet, popping in a couple of chocolate chip Eggos from the freezer and searching for the pan you had used earlier that morning.

Your eyes felt heavy, the quiet clinking and clattering of Sukuna nearly lulling you to sleep, chin bobbing against your chest.

“Oi. Keep those eyes open, I’m not eating two servings,” he grunted, cracking a couple of eggs into the pan.

You adjusted in your seat, rubbing your eyes and yawning. When did it get so late?

Standing up, you wobbled over to the couch and laid down, nearly resigned to your exhaustion from cleaning all day.

Sukuna peered over at you skeptically, not even realizing he had been quickening his movements as your eyes threatened to shut.

But it was inevitable, your lashes fluttering and your breath steadying.

Sukuna grumbled something, placing both full plates on the coffee table minutes later and looming over you with a chagrined expression.

Within moments, he was snapping his meaty fingers in front of your face, breaking you from your slumber.

You flinched, sitting up and feeling your head spinning. Grumbling, you rubbed your eyes and leaned your head against the back of the couch.

Sukuna plopped down beside you, shoving a plate of waffles and eggs into your hands as if the two of you hadn’t eaten pancakes that same morning.

You were too tired to complain.

With low lids, you brought the fork to your lips and began eating in slow and heavy movements, like your limbs were caught in black tar.

Sukuna eyed you warily, afraid that you’d fall asleep into your plate and you’d somehow stab your eye.

“Aye. City girl. Finish your food.” He cracked open a beer with one hand, tossing it back in just a few gulps. You studied the way his Adam’s apple bobbed while he guzzled it down.

Shuddering, you tossed him a sleepy scowl. “I’m full.”

He passed you a glass of water, grabbing your plate with his and heading towards the kitchen to set it down. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

You let out a small burp after a sip, quickly covering your mouth and tossing him an awkward glance before shuffling in your seat. “I’m going to need a refresher.”

You didn’t actually need one.

Sukuna inhaled sharply at your feigned ignorance, hands placed beside the sink as he stared down, before pushing off and running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll let you help out. Don’t need to wire me nothin’ when you get back.”

You chuckled, grabbing a shopping bag to pull out some pajamas he’d bought for you. A grey satin set that probably cost far too much but you didn’t complain, it’d definitely keep you warm. “Okay. Thanks for this, Sukuna.”

“Whatever.”

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