#sorry but those 'japanese business practices' are the ones that have worked so well so far

[comradejoanmir]

If reddit says "japanese business practices" One more time I'm gonna break smth can't believe you guys have me defending corporations tonight

[danieyells]

I don't know if you've done it yet but I would like to request Ren lines? I'm having tokyo debunker Ren brainrot bro 😭.

@otomelover23

You're all very welcome! I love you guys too, so far! Sorry you've been deprived of lazy boi lolol HOPEFULLY THESE SATISFY YOU A LITTLE BIT.

He's a little tsundere I think. He's one of those characters who just wants to be normal but he can't just pretend to be normal because he lives surrounded by chaos so he just complains a lot lolol. . .but i think he's a good guy. Aside from that he does not help his mother captain at all.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Great, shift change. I'm gonna head out then... What? Do I really need to be here for that?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"I think you've got a notification... Aren't you going to look at it?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Who did I disappoint in a past life to end up in Jabberwock... There's no general students or even a single other sane person, and these jumpsuits are a crime..."

"Why do I have to look after all these weird-ass animals? This is forced labor...  Ugh, they're so gross..."

"If you're just gonna stand there, could you go feed the animals in the aquatic zone?  I'm too busy."

"Ugh, why is that clown calling me... ... Whatever, I'll just let it ring out."

you know damn well that if you don't answer the phone you're gonna have to deal with Haru in person. Better to just answer it.

"Oh, hey... Could you open the link I sent you? No, you don't have to sign up or anything. Thanks."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh... Tell me how I'm supposed to sit through classes when I've been up since 4 AM? (yawn) I'm exhausted..."

well if you didn't stay up until 4am--oh who am i kidding i stayed up til like 3 watching a stream and reading datamine stuff and then I got up at like 6:30 to get ready for work I'm no better kekw.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Ugh... I can't believe I'm hiding right now... Why the hell does that clown have to chase me around at lunch time too?"

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Preach about doing it for the sake of your friends or the animals or whatever all you want— I really don't give a shit. People who say that stuff are just deluding themselves."

i've known people with this kind of cynicism before. once he finds people care about him and a little more stability he'll come around a little more.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? I can't see that clown anywhere... Hell yes. Gonna get through my watch list. I hope he never comes back."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm grinding this game on my phone, so could you not talk to me for a while? Crap, I think my RSI is flaring up..."

in Japanese he specifies tendonitis haha

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Don't people get embarrassed calling out those words when they use their stigmas? It makes them look like LARPers..."

in japanese he says they sound like they have chuunibyou which is much funnier imo lmao. also i guess that means he can say his in his head? since he'd feel embarrassed doing it aloud, maybe he's practiced already lol

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You think I sigh a lot? Got a problem with that? You realize trying to take away people's freedom of speech is power harrassment, right?"

you're starting to sound like ritsu. gonna hurt yourself reaching like that.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm so done... I'm out of HP... Shouldn't I be exempt from missions and classes since I'm looking after all those animals?"

well based on one of Haku's chats, you can just do missions if you don't go to class, and based on Kaito you can just go to class instead of doing missions. . .but I'm sure Haru forces him on missions anyway lol. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Pfft... The video of that clown getting attacked by that hawk thing is getting so many interacts. This editing thing's actually pretty fun."

does editing count as a creative effort? i wouldn't be surprised if he switched to Hotarubi next year if so, assuming he doesn't get used to Jabberwock and the animals. Also why didn't he get stopped by Sophy for uploading a video with an anomaly? Unless he uploaded it to an Institute social media site like WickHive or something. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Gotta change the locks so that clown can't get in again. I've bought enough padlocks to start my own business by now..."

life haru finds a way. sometimes that way is "towa, break down the door" if he runs out of lockpicking equipment.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"My head's killing me... This is the worst... Rise and shine! my ass... It's basically still the middle of the night. Guess I should padlock my windows..."

5-6am I can understand being 'basically the middle of the night' but after that you're pushing it lmao

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The cafeteria's way over capacity... The assholes who save seats before its even noon are ruining it for everyone else..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why's my pay so low... huh? What's this deduction for? "Consultation Fee: Ritsu Shinjo..." He's seriously charging me for complaining...?"

Ritsu charges for looking at him too long. i'd try venting on wickhive over complaining to Ritsu.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That rabbit sure has it good. All it has to do is breathe and everyone fawns over it. Doesn't even have to feed itself. Just wait till it grows up and learns what the world's really like."

WELL BASED ON THAT THE ADULT PEEKABOO WAS STILL BEING FAWNED OVER AND HARU HAD TO STOP PEOPLE FROM PETTING IT BECAUSE IT BITES. . .IT'LL PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT GOOD. Haru takes good care of the animals.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Sup... Huh? I'm alone today. I just got up on my own since if I don't that clown'll wake me up anyway."

yeah? it's because of haru? not because of your affinity with the pc being more than half so you wanna be up earlier to spend more time with them? sure.

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oof, nearly missed the noon raid...  Not like I'll have any time to myself once I get back to the dorm, so I guess I should do it now..."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"No, I'm not going to sleep yet. I'm gonna watch a horror B-movie. You don't have to think, so they're the perfect thing to watch before bed."

i used to watch/listen to mts3k to go to sleep so. i feel this.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Well done me for surviving another day... Oh, same to you too, {PC}. I don't how you can do this stuff voluntarily."

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE ANIMALS DAWG.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? I'm going to the campus store to buy some stuff, where are you going? Well, I'm going that way, so...bye."

not sure if shy or asocial lmao. could be both!

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're being forced to help out again? Wow, a doormat out in the wild. So? Where do you want me to carry all this food?"

he's helping you even though he doesn't wanna work. HE'S GOT IT BAD.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a video I uploaded. People seem really into it. It's of that clown getting chased by a dog and flailing around like one of those inflatable air dancers."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing today? Working at the diner. Oh, if you want to keep me company, feel free to come by. As long as you serve yourself."

it's not a date or anything since he's at work but like. . .he is inviting you to hang out. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? You were waiting for me to get off work? Oh... Thanks. Wait, that clown put you up to this?! I'm gonna kill him..."

NO NO WE CAME HERE WILLINGLY probably. although it does seem like Haru to be like "oh hey Ren really really likes you, you should go pick him up from work! he'd love that!!" like a real nosy mom who's trying to get his son together with his crush.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"When did it get this late? That was horrifyingly fast... I'll walk part of the way back with you. I was gonna go buy something to drink anyway..."

excuses, excuses. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Every day here is a fresh hell, sure, but... You're suffering through it with me, so I guess I'll stick it out a little longer..."

'this sucks but you make it suck a little(a lot) less so i can keep going'. yep, that's our tsundere alright!

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That clown's even more slap-happy than usual lately—it's horrible. Has he got spring fever or something?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Otonashi keeps trying to make me drink some kind of rice porridge with weird flowers in it... It's actual porridge harassment."

considering the flower Towa associates with Ren is poisonous, i think it's safe to assume he is literally trying to poison him to death lmao. also wtf is porridge harassment--i even tried looking it up in japanese and the first thing that came up was someone screenshotting it and saying "what is porridge harassment" lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"All this farm labor's bad enough without all the caterpillars and weird plants that are out there now...This is harassment."

what's harassing you, nature? as someone who just had to kill a huge mosquito that came into my room, nature is harassing me too.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I hate cherry blossoms. They're like the flower version of being a legacy kid— all they have to do is bloom once a year and everyone claps."

in japanese what he says is something like 'i hate them just like people born with silver spoons in their mouths'. basically he hates people born into privilege lol i bet he'd have the potential to get along well with haku until he learns he'll be inheriting a shrine. . .then again he's getting along with Ritsu in their own little way

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This is the worst... It's not even noon yet, how is it so hot? Summer is for extroverts and party animals, I wish it could just be over already..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A group trip to the beach? I'd rather die. No decent person would ever go there of their own free will."

butbutbut. think of the summer skins!!!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer was our busy period back home, so I always had to kill myself helping out. Now I'm here though... nothing's changed."

. . .did Ren's family run some sort of seaside shop??? And he happened to end up afraid of the ocean and hating aquatic creatures and such?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How can the A/C be banned in the dorm...? Who gives a shit what temperature some anomalous animal that sneaks in prefers, humans should come first..."

okay i agree with him here though what the fuck kind of rule is that. can we talk to hyde about that, that's insane haru.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Now it's getting colder, I nearly found myself feeling grateful for this tragic jumpsuit... Am I being brainwashed...?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Fall, the season of the harvest—I'll stick with cup noodles, thanks. "Fall, the season to enjoy the outdoors"—screw that. I'm gonna make it the season of naps."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Look—I got bitten by some weird bug anomaly. To hell with the stupid bug spray ban, I'm buying some."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel like the mountains are rowdier when there's a full moon. Pretty sure my enemy encounter rate goes up when I'm on patrol too... Maybe I'm just imagining it."

is 'enemy encounter rate' here referring to people or anomalies. . .because if it's people then that's just because of tsukimi. . .although I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of anomalies or anomalies were more active on full moons.

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"There's less patrols in winter but anything involving water like washing up gets even worse... Ugh, I wish I could hibernate too..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Since the climate in Jabberwock's so messed up, sometimes it's actually warm in winter. The blizzards are way stronger though..."

have you tried pissing towa off less?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh god, I just saw what's in the diner's new Mystery Hot Pot... It's gotta be a matter of time before this place goes bust..."

i mean if they had ordinary health inspectors maybe lolol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"That clown broke my window so my room's like a freezer... Oh, don't worry. I just took his room instead."

lmao imagine Ren invites you to hang out and takes you to Haru's room instead of his like nah he broke my window so i'm using his room and he can freeze.

His birthday: (July 25th)

"You got this for me? That clown's been spreading my personal info around... No, it's fine, I'll still take it. Thanks."

i guess he doesn't really tell people his birthday, huh.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}. ...Isn't it kind of rude to look so surprised I'd celebrate your birthday? That came from the heart, you know."

I MEAN YOU NORMALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. . .it's happy surprise!!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. My resolution? Escaping the hell hole that is Jabberwock, for starters."

well you got here in like September or something so. you've got a while befor eyou can switch houses lmao but you can do it this year!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"You got me chocolates? You're the type who does all this kind of stuff, huh? No, it's fine, you went to the trouble and everything so I'll take them."

i love when characters kinda mock you for doing getting them something but then they're like "nonono i want it gimme--" lolol from Ren especially it's very tsundere. poor guy wouldn't be straightforward about his feelings unless a damn life was on the line.

White Day: (March 13th)

"{PC}... Here, if you want them. I just bought the first thing I saw, so don't read into it..."

i bet it's actually really nice lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Guess what? I got special permission to switch houses. That nightmare is now behind me! I wish..."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I hope everyone who gets excited about Halloween lives in misery for the rest of their lives. Why the hell do I have to help out with this stupid themed tour?"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Can I ask you a question, {PC}? You don't still believe in Santa Claus, do you? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Have a good Christmas."

i mean. . .after coming here santa is a plausible entity to believe in. . .if there's gonna be a santa i don't wanna be caught not believing and missing out on gifts. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Where'd she go...? Whatever. Guess I'll catch up on some of my games."

(13 affinity and above)

"Pfft... This edit's awesome. I'm a genius. I'll show {PC} when she gets back."

true bonding is sharing the funny memes you worked hard on. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"It's not like I was waiting for you or anything. It's just this hell hole is even more unbearable when you're not around..."

YEP THAT'S OUR UNFORTUNATE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE TSUNDERE ALRIGHT. His lines don't really get super affectionate but. They still have a charm to them when you realize how much he hides his feelings in the usual tsundere way. He likes you a lot but like. . .it's a bother and it's embarrassing. . .and what're the chances you're into him? He'll just invite you over to watch movies and play games with him and stuff. . .and tell himself it's fine to just be friends until it eats away at him. . .or until Haru spills the beans for him--

this took way too long because i got distracted like three times in the middle and my laptop started freaking out and i had to figure out why and close and reopen everything about 8 times hahaha. . . . OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TO BED! I hope this satisfies you a little bit!!

[newjeansgirlfriend]

when it gets tough (we’ll be there)

kim minji and newjeans, no reader, no romance (anon idk if this is what u wanted but)

angst(?) fluff, requested

tw: overworking, skipping meals

minji was part of the girlgroup ‘newjeans’. 

and she loved it. she loved every single second of it.

except when it got tough. except when she spent the whole night practicing for the comeback, only to get an hour of rest before getting back to practice. except when she curled up into a ball to cry in the corner of her room after studying japanese until her hand cramped.

she would never tell anyone though, especially not her members. her members had their own hardships to work through, and it would be so unfair of her to say anything to them.

so she kept on pushing, practicing until the moon rose, studying until she could see the sun again. 

it had felt so easy to skip lunch the first time. she didn’t feel that hungry anyways, she could forgo lunch for a little bit more practice, and it was only one day, right? she’d definitely eat lunch tomorrow!

that’s what she told herself the next day, and the day after that. it was good to diet, she reasoned, after it had become a habit. she needed to take care of her weight anyways.

the rest of newjeans barely saw minji outside of practice, because she was too busy with perfecting the latest choreography, or singing her part again in preparation for the recording of their song.

and this continued.

until the time when hyein cried.

“why doesn’t minji unnie come home anymore? i miss her… i wish she loved us still.” she sniffled.

“she still loves us,” hanni reassured her, “she’s just a bit… tired right now.” 

“if she’s tired then she should come to the dorm and sleep, not keep practicing!” haerin exclaimed.

“you’re right, actually. do you wanna go see minji?”

——————

“minji unnie, wake up!”

“hm?” minji grunted sleepily, squinting at the bright desk light. “guys, what are you doing here?”

“checking on you.”

“oh i’m fine, don’t worry about me-“

“then what are those?” haerin pointed.

everyone’s gaze was directed to the tear-stained, half completed papers minji was using as a pillow.

“i just,” tears welled up in minji’s eyes. “i just—“ 

danielle rushed to minji and enveloped her tightly in her arms.

“i’m sorry!” minji wailed. “you weren’t supposed to know, it’s my problem, not yours-“

“oh, minji.” hanni sighed.

“shhh,” danielle shushed minji. “let it all out.”

they stayed like that, until minji’s sobs had been reduced to uneven breathing and an ache in her chest.

“unnie… you should have told us.”

“it would have affected you too. it’s my problem, i can deal with it.”

“but we’re meant to be a team! right guys?” hyein looked around the room.

“yeah, minji! we’re meant to be a team, overcome obstacles together, laugh together, cry together. let us help you, and we can grow as a team.”

“okay,” minji wiped the tears from her eyes, and smiled at her members, her family.

haerin extended her hands to minji, and pulled her up when she accepted them.

“everyone’s going to see you’ve been crying with your red eyes, you should wash your face,” haerin suggested.

“yeah and i bet you havent eaten either! lets go out to eat unnie, all of us! like a family!”

“okay, okay,” minji chuckled. “we can go out to eat.”

minji was part of the girlgroup ‘newjeans’. 

but it was more than that.

they were family.

[shelikesrainydays]

// August 7th, 2024

Welp, there goes July. It's interesting to see how actually setting a time to do things and monitor the progress somehow (in my case, with Forest) my study habit improved monstrously. Instead of doing it sporadically (particularly, those days in which I feel extremely anxious about my career) I try to sit down everyday and do something. The "2 minutes rule" that James Clear mentioned in Atomic Habits in my case is the 25 minutes of a single study session. Weirdly enough, I found myself wanting to keep going on for two or three sessions more. I'm not kidding when I say that this has been a life changer for me: I don't dread studying anymore. Sure, there are days where I don't fancy the idea of coming back from work and keep my mind busy for 2 extra hours, but it's not the majority of days, and that's what is surprising me. Like... guys, these are 18 solid hours of focused time🤯 And do you know what is the best part? I find myself being able to focus better on other things as well. I still have a lot of room for improvement, but comparing this to my past self, it certainly is a HUGE change. I'm excited to see how this will keep evolving 🙌 On another note, since I haven't been able to keep this blog active during these past few weeks (apart from the occasional reblog):

✦ I started watching How I met your Mother with bf (he says that knowing me, he's absolutely sure I'm gonna love it). Yeah, I'm not very good at keeping up with series, specially those that have more than 3 seasons; so it won't surprise me if anyone who reads this thinks "Girl, how's it even possible you haven't watched it?!". Sorry not sorry, I spend my little free time daydreaming about stuff okay? ✦ We also watched the whole season 6 of Mystery of Aaravos, a.k.a as The Dragon Prince. My GOD, sh*t just started getting real. We even set the time to make Hamantaschen, those Jewish jelly pastries in a shape of a triangle! Even though they looked hideous they were surprisingly tasty 😋⭐

✦ I bought myself a new Kindle! My previous one was okay, but I thought it was time for an update and I took it as a treat for being able to focus better on my studies. I ordered a few stickers as well, I will decorate it as soon as they arrive. ✦ We also got tickets for a symphony concert at one of our local theaters today, to listen to Harry Potter, Jurassic Park, Star Wars and other iconic movie pieces 🎻. It's my first time attending to this kind of events so I'm pretty excited about it as well! I've always wanted to go to a Hans Zimmer concert, but I think this will have to suffice for the time being. I'm sure it will be great anyways. ✦ I'm a little stuck with my japanese. Even when I still do my Doulingo sessions, I feel like I need to start practicing more my kanjis. And I reached the point where not knowing katakana has become an obstacle. So yeah, if I want to keep at it, I need to stop ignoring the writing practice. It's just, so hard keeping with everything up. And the new kanjis keep accumulating... 🫠

Phew, that was a lot to write! But I'm not sure when I'll have the time to do this again so I wanted to create a meaningful post.

Cambio y fuera.

[olderthannetfic]

Re: the second language discussion.

I think for a lot of people who speak English as a native language, it can be overwhelming to choose a second language. If you don't primarily speak English, it might be easy to choose it as a second language. (Actually, it's often taught right in school.) For English speakers, it can be difficult to choose as there are so many options, and without a recommendation for work or personal passion, someone might put it off forever thinking, "Well, many people speak English anyway if we had to communicate." If I did business with Germany or loved the culture and had every expectation of visiting or moving there, obviously I would learn German. I wouldn't expect every German to speak English for me. But if I have no such spark, it can be almost impossible to choose a language and even more difficult to stick with it. Which is what everyone I know has said.

It might also be easier to choose if a person's location borders a foreign-speaking nation or has many who speak a second language in the population. (Like eastern Canada speaking French.)

Yes, I had to have two foreign language credits to graduate high school, but it was not until high school that they bothered thinking we might want to learn a second language. The teachers did not care how much we learned. And there was no support system for continuing our studies after graduation.

Over the years, I've experimented with learning Spanish, Japanese, French, and glanced at one or two others. It can be difficult to commit, especially if you're out of school with no drive but your own. I've finally chosen Spanish and do daily lessons on Duolingo (which may not be the best teacher, but it is for my budget and schedule). And even then, I have several times considering abandoning my Spanish lessons to pick up French instead.

I greatly admire people who have learned English as a second language, and I am highkey jealous of their bilingualism. I just hope everyone understands that if a person already speaks English, sometimes one of the biggest things holding them back is the overwhelm of choosing a second language, which isn't obvious for everyone.

--

I'll post people's opinions, but I think my own views are pretty easy to guess.

English speakers come from all over, but many of us under discussion are from the US...

As a teenager, I went to a fancy high school with great language instruction. They had a whole Japanese program. I was a massive weeb. Hell, I was a japanophile of longstanding, even before I discovered manga and then anime.

I took Spanish.

As an American there is one very obvious language to learn. Blindingly obvious. And it even happens to be one with a massive vocabulary overlap and "simple" grammar from the perspective of English. Now, I admit that back in the 90s, it was a pain in the fucking ass to find any cultural products to practice on that were easy enough but also on any topic I'd find easy, but things are better today. (Of course, this is me, so none of that ever motivated me half as much as Las aventuras del capitán Alatriste.)

My Japanese was crap even after a lot of study. I remember this one time while I was working in Japan that I went to a craft fair—one of those temple markets in Kyoto. I was looking at a table of jewelry. The guy there said something about being sorry that he didn't speak English (in Japanese, I presume, though I don't remember anymore). I looked up and realized that the tan guy with long black hair I'd seen out of the corner of my eye was definitely not Japanese. I stammered out that I understood some Spanish but didn't speak it if he spoke that. It had been a few years since I'd taken Spanish, but I figured I'd remember enough. So he started explaining his artwork and the symbolism, the river of life, various cultural motifs, etc.

Fifteen minutes later, as we were discussing educational policy in his country and how his Native parents had been part of the generation to get English removed from the schools in favor of Spanish as the foreign language and Native languages as the primary medium of instruction, he looked up at me and said "Oh, you don't speak Spanish, huh?"

--

It's true that a bunch of dumb racists would scream if we tried to make Spanish part of all grade school classrooms in the US. It's also true that there is one most obvious language to learn if you're an American.

[moonlight404-translates]

A3! Mikage Hisoka | SSR - Supreme ★ Winter Fruits | Translation

Quote: “My head hurts a bit... I ate too much shaved ice at once... Sigh... it’s so hot... I’ll take a good rest in that refreshing room when I’m back.”

Thanks Noodle for your help proofreading the backstage! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

--------------------------

Disclaimer: Neither English nor Japanese is my native language, but I did my best with the translation. If you find any mistakes, feel free to tell me. By  the way, Director’s name will be Izumi.

Sea Green Driftage / 1  

Kumon: And, it’s done! My rainbow shaved ice! Muku: Wow, it’s so pretty! I can’t take my eyes away… Banri: Shirokuma? Tenma: Where is the lemon syrup? Omi: Aah, that one is… Misumi: I finished mine too! Yuki: Your classic Mr. Triangle? Kazunari: There are too many instablammable shaved ices to take photos of! Izumi: Fufu. It’s a unique set of masterpieces. Kazunari: Hey, can we use these sweets too? Izumi: Mhm. I thought they might work well as toppings. Kazunari: Huh? There are marshmallows here. Izumi: Those are Hisoka’s marshmallows. We shouldn’t use them. Tasuku: I think those will be alright. There are more of them, after all. Tsumugi: Now that I notice it, Hisoka-kun isn’t here. Homare: Hisoka-kun might be resting in Azuma-san and Guy-san’s room because of the heat. Kazunari: Why in AzuGuy’s room? Homare: According to Hisoka-kun, their room is the coolest one. Tsumugi: Maybe it’s because of the recent hot days that he has been shutting himself in, except at night for his bartender job… Homare: I’ve told him that taking sunlight once in a while is good for him, but nothing. Homare: He won’t listen to me because the heat could melt him. Banri: That’s like a vampire… or better said, he is now a marshmallow. Izumi: But shaved ice refreshes you. I will go call him.

Izumi: Hisoka-san. Izumi: (The air is nice and cool here, and there’s a subtle fragrance too…) Izumi: (And Hisoka-san is… oh, he’s there.) Hisoka: Zzz… Izumi: (Fufu. He’s sound asleep hugging Pen Pen.) Izumi: It feels so comfortable… Izumi: (Now I feel bad about waking him up…) Hisoka: … Izumi: (I’ve always wondered… if his bangs don’t bother him.) Izumi: (It feels hotter when your hair hangs on like that…) Hisoka: …What’s wrong? Izumi: Woah, you surprised me…! Were you awake? Hisoka: …I just woke up. You keep staring at my face, Director. Izumi: Ahmm… Izumi: (But he might have a reason to leave his bangs long, maybe even for style…)

Choose 1: Nothing.

Izumi: …It’s nothing. Hisoka: …I see. Izumi: This room is refreshing and pleasant. Hisoka: Mhm, it’s comfortable. The temperature is a bit lower, and my favorite incense is burning when I come. Izumi: (That’s too perfect…! It’s also Azuma-san and Guy-san’s fault that Hisoka-san doesn’t want to go out…)

Choose 2: I thought you were so comfy. 

Izumi: I thought you seemed so comfortable like that. Hisoka: How about napping with me, Director? Izumi: I might not be able to fall asleep at night if I sleep now. Hisoka: I will keep you company if that happens. Izumi: Fufu. You would fall asleep first, Hisoka-san.

Hisoka: …Right, why did you come here? Do you need anything from me? Izumi: Yeah, I wanted to ask if you would like to join us in the garden, making and eating shaved ice together. Hisoka: … Hisoka: …Zzz. Izumi: (That’s an obvious answer…!) Izumi: I know it's hot outside, but shaved ice can refresh you, and it’s super fun to make them and eat them with everyone, don’t you think? Hisoka: …Zzz. Izumi: We have marshmallows for the toppings too! Hisoka: …I want. Izumi: (Nothing beats having marshmallows with you, huh.)

Sea Green Driftage / 2

Tsumugi: I’m free in the morning, but… I won’t be able to help. I’m sorry. Tasuku: I have practice for a guest performance. Sorry. Tsuzuru: It’s okay. Thank you anyways. …I knew everyone would be busy. Izumi: What’s going on? Tsuzuru: Well, a college superior lacks people to help in a beach stall for a day, so he asked me. Tsuzuru: He wants three people for it. Banri and I will help, but we need someone else. Kumon: Banri serves as two. Isn’t that enough? Banri: What kind of logic is that? Hisoka: … Chikage: Did you try asking this guy? Hisoka: Chikage, shut up. Tsuzuru: It's next Sunday… are you available, Hisoka-san? Hisoka: …I’m free. Tsuzuru: Really~?! That’s good~! Hisoka: My fee is marshmallows for a week. Tsuzuru: How much are marshmallows for a week? Maybe I can make it with my part-time job pay… Chikage: Don’t be so immature. He’s a college student. Tsuzuru, I’ll cover the cost. Chikage: …That’s what you wanted, right? Hisoka: Yeah, I guess… Hisoka: I knew it. I should have stayed in the room. Homare: This is an excellent opportunity for you to go outside, Hisoka-kun! Izumi: And you can make lovely summer memories. Hisoka: …Sigh. Hisoka: …Ah. Itaru, I will send you a photo of the sea when I take one. Itaru: Somehow, we’re still collecting photos of the sea, huh. Itaru: How about uploading it to Inste to clear it this time? Good luck with the beach event mission. Hisoka: Roger.

Tsuzuru: Your beer, lemon sour, and frankfurt are here. Thanks for the wait. Tsuzuru: The yakisoba will take a bit— Customer A: Hey, are you a college student? Tsuzuru: I am… Customer A: You have a pure and cute look~. When does your work end? Customer B: Why don’t you hang out with us after you finish? Tsuzuru: Ahmm… Banri: Sorry for the wait. Here is your yakisoba~. Customer A: Wow, a pretty handsome guy came! Customer B: Do you work here too? Let’s hang out when you’re done~. Banri: Why don’t you order a lot to help us finish earlier then? Tsuzuru: Wait, are you a host now…? You’re rejecting this, right…? Customer C: Hey, isn’t that boy stunning? Customer D: He has a fading aura… Is he a high schooler? No, a college student? Hisoka: …I’m already in my twenties. Customer C: When did he appear behind us?! Customer D: Neat! He’s like a ninja!

Sea Green Driftage / 3

Tsuzuru: Phew… the shop is thriving. Banri: Man, my arm hurts. I fried too many yakisobas. Shop Owner: Thank you, everyone! We’ve almost run out of ingredients. Shop Owner: Since there are just a few dishes to serve, you’re free to leave earlier. Banri: Thanks. Tsuzuru: Thank you for your work. Banri: Since we’re here, let’s swim in the sea for a bit. Tsuzuru: Sure. How about you, Mikage-san? Hisoka: …I won’t go. I’m tired.

Hisoka: Shaved ice is cold, but I still feel hot… Hisoka: I should have gone swimming… Izumi LIME: Good job on your work. Make sure to hydrate during your break. Hisoka LIME: I’m eating shaved ice. Does it count as hydrating myself? Hisoka: (Should I tell her we finished our work?) Boy: …It will melt if you don’t hurry up and eat it. Hisoka: …? Hisoka: (...He’s right. I didn’t notice when it started to melt.) Hisoka: (Sigh… Somehow, I suddenly felt hot again…) Hisoka: …Do you want to eat it? It’s almost melted, though. Boy: Are you sure?! Hisoka: Yes, here. Boy: Thank you! …It’s cold and tasty! Hisoka: Why are you alone? Boy: I came with my mom and sister, but they were crazy about collecting sea glass. Since I got bored, I went for shaved ice. Hisoka: Sea glass? Boy: It’s glass that was dropped in the sea Hisoka: Heh. Boy: Girls seem to like it because it’s shiny and pretty. Hisoka: (...Director might like it too.)

Hisoka: (It’s colder now that the sun is going down…) Hisoka: (What a nice feeling…) Hisoka: (...I’m going to sleep for a bit.)

Hisoka: (The sound of the waves, the sea breeze smell, and the sand feeling…) Hisoka: (I don’t know why, but I think I feel nostalgic…) Hisoka: (It’s comfortable… though…) Hisoka: (Why do I feel like I have to wake up soon…?)

Hisoka: Ah… I forgot about the beach event mission. Hisoka: The photo… Hisoka: …

Hisoka Inste: Mission clear? Hisoka: …Yawn. Maybe I should sleep a bit more— Banri: Ah, here he is. Tsuzuru: Please, wake up. It’s almost time to go back. Hisoka: Mhm. Tsuzuru: Thanks for your help today, you two. Banri: I’m glad to have come to the beach this year. Tsuzuru: It’s good when you put it like that. How was it for you, Mikage? Hisoka: …It was hot. Banri: Really? Only that? Tsuzuru: Ah, right. We have to tell Director we’re going back. Hisoka: …I’ll send her a LIME. Hisoka LIME: We’re going back. Izumi LIME: Good work today. I just saw your post on Inste. Izumi LIME: Your photo of the sea and the sea glass is lovely! Hisoka: Sea glass… Hisoka: (I took it just when I woke up. I didn’t notice it appeared on it…) Hisoka: (I will take some as a souvenir and then go back home. But she might prefer another color than green… Izumi LIME: The sea glass is so pretty. It has the same color as your eyes, Hisoka-san. Hisoka: My eyes color… Tsuzuru: What’s wrong, Mikage-san? Banri: We’re leaving you. Hisoka: …Wait. I’ll take these for Director. 

[dolugecat]

On some Japanese social issues I had learned about at uni and abroad):

(Rb ok!)

Legit had an epiphany about the true hidden meaning of the last arc of Mob Psycho 100. It’s hella projection but for real there is nothing neurotypical about Mob or Mob Psycho. I do not wish to enforce my interpretation on others (ironic bc I do that all the time but this is a serious social theory). There are some interesting and very sad social issues in Japan that the west really doesn’t understand but would I think help people understand a lot of context behind not only Mob Psycho, but also a lot of other anime. I learned this at my shitty university (prestigious but horrific) and while studying abroad in Japan and talking with Japanese peers. Get ready here we go (and tw for bullying and darker things):

Unfortunately in East Asian education systems, bullying can be extremely intense. Growing up I assumed it was over exaggerated extremely in anime for drama but it really can be so horrific. From what I’ve heard, there is often a single kid or so who is just shit on by everyone else, even the teacher. Mogami land *is* the reality of some Japanese kids. I’ve read that in Korea, this social punching bag sometimes is just the darkest skinned person (yayyy colorism /angry) and or someone who does not fit in. I mean, we have that in America too, but maybe not as common for the bullying to be as focused on one misfit rather than several. These kids just can’t escape the stigma too, kids from other schools find out they were a major victim at their old school and it starts anew. Thus there is so much stigma and incentive to join in on bullying so you aren’t the one. Sadly, this also ofc leads to higher suicide rates. That’s where the “shoe on building roof” anime trope comes in, bc somehow taking off shoes is relayed to death (I forgot why sorry)

There is a difference in how intense in general high school vs college is too. In the West, commonly college is the more intense curriculum and is harder than high school, but in Japan it’s usually the opposite. Grind suuuupppeeerrrr hard for entrance exams (huge standardized tests that determines what college you can qualify to) bc unlike the ACT or SAT here, that test is by far the most important factor for college admission. Then chill and relax a bit in college. Can’t relate. Name and prestige is very critical for job application, more important than here. That’s why planning out your future is sooo much more intense for Japanese high schoolers than in America, and why there is sooo much more pressure to excel in high school than here. Japanese school years and holidays are done different than ours, I’d suggest looking it up.

Social prestige of going to an American high school or college is nuts. Like whyyy do you value our shitty education, Japan’s is much higher quality (it’s bc we neo colonized them). Being able to speak English is very, very highly valued and any association with Americans make you cooler. From my experience, some Japanese students got very excited to practice speaking English with us, and their biggest issues with learning it is pronunciation, lmao. Wasai english is unique slang that is indeed English words but it’s kinda different and it’s kinda jarring to remember lol. So, Teru having parents that are working overseas isn’t too uncommon, idk about leaving him absolutely alone, but I did have a ex-friend who just came from Japan in middle school who’s situation probably wasn’t too far off from that. Empty wealth with no love, it’s no wonder those kind of people can end up being huge bullies (minori?)

I did a presentation on 引きこもり(hikikomori) for which means “shut in”, (like Serizawa) and it’s fucked up. It’s a social phenomena where according to some Japanese researchers a mix of undisciplined parenting, guilt/not living up to expectations, and hopelessness makes an alarming amount of youth/ young adults literally never go out side their house/room. Often a parent is “enabling” the behavior by supporting them, but idk the articles seemed a bit victim-blaming to me when I read it, but I don’t think I should make a judgement too hard, not my place. I will say I do suspect and believe I read something to support that ASD might play a role in hikikomoris (there is pitiful resources for autistic people in Asia, much much less support than even here, to the point I don’t think most know it exists). Like come on, with the other points I laid out my personal opinion as an Asian American with autism is that it really seems it’s unknowing ableism against autistic classmates, but I didn’t grow up in Asia so I don’t want to say.

Mental health in general is tragically quite abysmal in Japan, and with it being so hyper competitive and brutal work culture, it’s no surprise birth rate in Japan is so low; some Japanese young adults say it seems unethical to bring a life to such hostile world. Suicide rate is of the highest in the world. It’s fucked, I’ve interacted with some of the locals in Tokyo and they were so nice, but the business men just looked dead inside, it’s so sad.

Relationships between child and parent is also strained bc of this intense work and school culture. Quality time is too scarce when you gotta work so much. And the pressure from parents to do well in education or else you might end up socially stigmatized is rough. Bc your job is who you are, it’s hyper capitalism (thanks us for making them do this)

With autism being so unknown, support for parents in raising autistic kids is almost nonexistent. What happens if the “darker” side of ASD shows up in kids? I used to be a menace when I had meltdowns, I felt so bad but really just became so indiscriminately violent. See where this is going? Legit, I think ESP is a sort of metaphor for neurodivergance to ONE. There is so much stigma around it, and even less way for kids to understand why they are different than the others. My Korean family can’t admit we all got ASD, too much fear and internalized shame.

I got finally diagnosed with ASD as an adult and I’ll tell ya, I relate too much to Mob hurting Ritsu. I felt so bad, but also not in control, I knew what I was doing but not how to stop. Luckily, is was blessed in that my hyperfixations involved science and logic, so I did well at school. Sadly, our boy Mob just don’t got the passion or ability to do well at school. His kanji is very bad, even to point of not being confident he wrote a kanji (世) they learn when they are 9, in elementary school (thanks @katyatalks). Him being a bit berated by his parents for having bad grades and bending spoons seems harsh to Westerners I think, but IMO it’s pretty tame from what I’ve seen of some Asian parents (I get to say that lmao). Ofc, however the shaming is very real and Mob just agreeing with them about how weird and stupid he thinks he is so sad. There is even more pressure for the eldest to be better than here, I feel from some interactions. Nonetheless, it’s implied Mob is quite emotionally detached from his parents, even though he loves them, which also adds to his emotional complex. Combined with originally fragile self esteem and feelings of worthlessness, we got one emotionally stunted boy. However, contrary to common belief people with ASD are sometimes hyper empathic and experience emotions very intensely. We are prone to having “meltdowns” which if not assisted with can be quite violent if very intense. For me, my worse meltdowns as a kid came from when I didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting what I wanted, it seemed selfish and cruel of me but I couldn’t control it. I wanted to be a good kid, so why did hit my moms leg at target when she refused to buy me Pokémon toys? I couldn’t come up with a good reason for why my mind just commanded my body to do bad things, just a single thought was controlling me, I want I want I want I want I want ____. Which I argue could be what ???% represents… bc well…. Yeah….. hmm….. not in control of self (mob unconscious), selfish (not actually, I’ve forgave myself but my “normal” kid self was so ashamed), destructive, hurt family, wanting to stop but can’t, that’s kind of…. Too relatable.

But legit, since realizing my new HC, I’ve started to think of the last chapter of mp100 when I “explode” and it helps me feel better and I do gain “control” a bit easier. I don’t feel so bad anymore either, Mob!

[bokuroskitten]

Okay so my request. 🥺

Poly relationship between Ushijima x reader x Bokuto. Reader feels super neglected due to both of them having super busy volleyball schedules. Of course she knew this when she started dating them. But she still gets lonely and needy. Both himbos don’t realize it due to them being well himbos. It’s not until they notice her clingy to a player from one of the teams who gives her attention. They confront her and she breaks down and spills her heart out to them. They give her the long awaited attention she needs. Can it possibly be smut please? 🥺🥺🥺

I hope this is everything you’re looking for love. Thank you for requesting and sorry it took a couple days. Please, enjoy. ❦

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢

〈You know Bokuto and Ushijima are busy men, but the longer you’re away from them, the larger the ache becomes

〷 This piece contains haikyuu time skip spoilers 〷

❈ genre: Angst/Comfort, NSFW 18+ (Minors DNI)

❈ warnings: anxiety/insecurities, Poly Relations (Reader x Bokuto Koutarou x Ushijima Wakatoshi), size kink, dom/sub dynamics, make-up sex.

It wasn’t like they were ignoring you on purpose. Bokuto and Ushijima would never do such a thing. Usually, they were so good at giving you all the attention you needed, checking up on you and asking about your day even after long practices or games.

But things had gotten really busy for your two boyfriends as volleyball season was back in full swing. Playing for the Japanese national team left little time for leisure, leaving you to an empty house that usually was always filled with Bokuto’s laughter or the sound of Ushijima’s rock music. Your days were filled with checking empty group chats, rushing home to make dinner only to find you were the only one eating it, and barely managing to stay awake when the front door finally opened.

It was starting to be too much for you. And you needed them oh so badly. Some night you tried wearing Bokuto’s shirt with your fingers buried deep between your thighs only to find they weren’t long enough to reach your good spots. Or you’d call out Ushijima’s name louder and louder hoping it would bring you closer to a high but it always fell flat.

You started to give up from frustration, actually felt yourself avoiding mirrors or even their touch. You didn’t deserve it, didn’t want to see. Maybe they were doing this on purpose, maybe this was their way of telling you that you weren’t enough for them anymore. Maybe there was someone else, prettier and younger and more bubbly.

There was that one pretty girl who was always conveniently at their practices...

The thoughts began to weigh on you. Made you feel like in your little house of three you didn’t really belong. But you weren’t sure how to bring it up to the boys, not when they were working so hard, and certainly not when they were exhausted every time they came home. So you just kept it all in your chest, letting it build and grow and spread.

All you wanted to do on your day off was stay in bed, allow the covers to swallow you whole so you didn’t have to think about anything. But Bokuto insisted you get up, that grin on his face that usually had you grinning right back.

“Cmon Birdy! Come watch us today! The rest of the boys will be happy to see you too!”

Normally you would have been thrilled at the opportunity, spending the whole day watching your men do what they loved so much. But with everything you’ve been feeling it was hard. Still, you tried your best to match that grin of his, rolling out of bed and getting ready so you could go to their joint practice.

You sat where you usually did, on the first bleacher, front and centre. You were usually so engaged, cheering them on when they hit a particularly good spike or bringing them water when they needed, but today you found yourself distracted. Eyes wandering to the ceiling or fiddling with the hem of the skirt you wore.

You hadn’t even noticed the stranger that sat beside you, just how close he’d gotten. You were taken more back when he spoke so close to your ear, making you jump a little in your seat.

His laughter was so warm. Smooth and thick like honey. You didn’t recognize him, but boy was he handsome. Dark features, light eyes, a smile with a perfect set of teeth. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you pretty.”

Pretty— did he really think you were pretty? Not wanting to seem more like a dunce you forced words from your lips, a little nervous giggle following suit. “I-I was totally zoned out, you didn’t scare me too bad, promise.”

He was staring, and normally this would have made you uncomfortable. Normally you would have told a handsome stranger right away that you were happily taken. But the longer he stared the tighter you pressed your thighs together, the deeper your flush became. You basked in it, the attention you were so craving from your two boyfriends...

“You must be new, I’d recognize a beautiful face like yours.” Another clench of your thighs. You were biting your lip and then his hand was on your thigh. This is where you’d usually slap someone, or call your much larger partners to handle it. But you couldn’t take your eyes off his. And right now you didn’t want to, not when his thumb felt so smooth on your skin.

“What’s your name? And phone number, if your willing of course.”

He was wearing a jersey, one didn’t recognize. Maybe from an opposing team? You just giggled again, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Words were on the tip of your tongue when a heavy hand fell on your shoulder. The male's hand all but flew off your thigh, his eyes a bit narrowed as the all too familiar voice sounded behind you.

“Baby, come with me.” Ushijima’s voice didn’t waver, in fact, it was deeper than usual, laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite point out. Looking towards the court you saw Bokuto too, thick brows furrowed and arms crossed. Your lips twisted in a thin line as you stayed still a moment, only for Ushijima to easily haul you to your feet.

“W-Wakatoshi—“

“I said. Come.” There was a demand, one that had the frustration bubbling on your features. You tore yourself away from his grip but still stormed out of the bleachers. Bokuto was quick to follow, easily picking up with your pace and walking to your side.

“Baby... what was that...”

“Right in front of us too? Just disrespectful.” Ushijima spoke, now on your other side.

You could feel them, the hot and angry tears that began to swim in your gaze as you stormed towards an empty room. The two continued to talk, trying to understand. You never flirted so openly with others, especially didn’t let them touch you. They wanted answers, needed to know why.

But as soon as the door closed behind you, you snapped.

“It was nice getting attention for once you know!”

That shut them up quickly. Bokuto looked downright shocked, lips held open in a silent gasp while Ushijima still held that blank expression of his. He was going to be the first one to speak but you cut him off, finally letting the tears slip-free.

“I know you two are busy! I know that I signed up for it. But it’s been too much— I’ve been so so lonely... and no one ever seems to notice! Neither of you! I just— I miss my boys, I miss you two so much and it’s not fair... it’s not fair to feel this lonely when I have you both...”

Your voice faded with a small crack, the tears now pooling from your eyes. You tried your best to wipe them away, body beginning to tremble as all the feelings hit you at once. You felt bad yelling at them, seeing their looks of shock. But it was now or never, you had to get it out.

Arms were around you, and you had to blink out a couple tears to realize it was Ushijima who had pulled you in so close. One of his large palms cupped the back of your head, pressed you into his chest with a small little hum.

“Love... sorry you’ve been feeling this way—“

“Why didn’t you just tell us Birdy! We love you so much you know!” Bokuto was quick to follow suit, joining in on the hug which only seemed to make you more emotional. Finally being encased in their warmth, feeling their arms over yours. It was everything you had been wanting.

“I-I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.. and then I just got in my head... I thought maybe you two d-didn’t want—“

“Shush...” Ushijima murmured, not even allowing you to finish that sentence. He pulled away just enough so you could look both of them in the eyes. Bokuto was giving you a small little smile, hoping it would make those tears of yours go away, while Ushijima just sighed, smoothed his palm over your cheek to wipe away tears with his thumb.

“Baby, we love you so much, please don’t ever doubt that okay?” He made sure you nodded before continuing. “We’re sorry, sorry for making you feel unwanted.”

“So so sorry Birdy! I just love ya— well of course we both do but, I just love ya so so much!” Bokuto said with enthusiasm, his smile growing when you let out a little giggle. You wiped away the remainder of your tears, chest a bit shaky as you looked between your two boys. You could see, how genuinely sorry they were. You knew deep down that they would never stop loving you, but hearing it, seeing it on their faces, made the weight that had been sitting in your chest lift.

“I love you both... love you, Bo, love you Ushi...”

“Tonight will be all about you pretty bird, all night just for you,” Bokuto said, pulling you back into a hug that you happily got swallowed into. Ushi nodded in agreement, his palm smoothing over the back of your head as you swayed in Bokuto’s embrace.

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

The evening really had been all about you. From the way Bokuto carried you bridal style into your shared apartment, to the way Ushijima had slowly stripped you in front of the full-length mirror, murmuring in your ear all his favourite parts of your lovely body. Now you were situated in Ushijima’s lap, naked body covered in a light layer of sweat as your chest rose and fell at a quick pace.

“P-Please Sir, want more, need more.” Your voice was nothing more than a whine that was easily shushed by Ushijima. His thick thighs tensed a bit around your own, pulling your legs further apart in the process. “Be patient baby girl, want you to feel every inch of Daddy’s cock.”

Bokuto was struggling to go slow as well, the urge to just thrust wildly into your perfect cunt filling his chest. The look Ushijima shot him told him to keep up this slow pace, for you. So he went in just another inch, making the two of you groan in unison.

“That’s it...” Ushijima’s voice was huskier than usual, large hand palming at your chest as he nodded His eyes were glued to your splitting pussy. “Another inch Bo, just one.”

And it went on just like that until Bokuto’s hips kissed the backs of your thighs, his head rolled back in a pleased moan as you squirmed in Ushijima’s grip. “Beautiful...” Ushi mumbled, his palm slithering down your body to rest on the bulge left in your stomach by Bokuto’s cock. You whimpered at the touch, cheeks feeling hot as his hand slid down to your pussy, traced the way your lips stretched around Bokuto’s throbbing length.

“You’re so stretched around Daddy’s cock baby, you see that? See how Bo can just split you open?” He took hold of your jaw with his free hand, making sure you were looked down at your full pussy. “S-see it Sir, and it feels so good.”

“Fuck yeah it does, this pretty pussy was made for me.” Bokuto rumbles out, his muscles tensing as he suddenly jutted his hips, his tip slapping against your cervix and making you yelp. Ushijima tsked at that, brows furrowing a bit as he snatched one of Bokuto’s hands, made him press it into the place where you and him met. “You need to be patient to Bo, just appreciate how little our baby is, how her perfect cunny stretches just for us. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Bokuto was basically drooling, his fingers pressing along the bulge on your tummy, the one he made. He licked his lips, before a grin curled on his handsome face. “It’s so so wonderful, the best fucking cunt ever. Going to fill you up over and over again tonight pretty girl, make sure you're stuffed absolutely full of Toshi and I so you never doubt again just how much we love you.”

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We’re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

[yutahoes]

Ghost of You

pairing: idol! Yuta (NCT member) x idol! Y/N (solo idol-actress)

word count : 5k words

genre: angst

summary: He was the one who ended everything. But you’re like a ghost that kept haunting him. 

warning : break up, alleged cheating, pregnancy, a fic where you just want to strangle Yuta to death 

Based on this ask. I’m sorry, I tweaked the story and changed some of the song (especially the Olivia Rodrigo one because it doesn’t fit the story) The songs I used are linked in the story. Also, I have no idea how the idol world works and please note that this is just fanfiction. Please Enjoy reading. 

Broken glass, an empty unruly apartment. Signs that a big fight happened. All because of a tabloid article of him seeing his co-host late at night. Yuta argued that she needed someone to talk to and Y/N was angry that he winged their anniversary V-live just for this. “You can tell me if you’re sick of me, Yuta.” she claimed that made him hiss. “Don’t you think I didn’t notice? You’re always making up things just so you can’t meet me.” 

“That’s not true!” Yuta shouted. “I am busy.” 

Tears ran down her face. “Then explain how Jungwoo had lunch with me last Friday when you said that you’re practicing with your members.”    

“Stop saying that I don’t even make time for you.” His voice raised in frustration. “When all you do is hang out with that co-star of yours.” 

The girl scoffed. “So it’s my fault now? It’s work, Yuta.” It’s always the same reason. “I asked you a lot of times if you’re alright with the drama and you never mention anything. Now, you’re using it against me?” 

The guy shook his head. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“And I’m also tired.” She whispered. “Let’s end this, Yuta.” She threw the promise ring before leaving the apartment. 

The news next day was about Y/N erasing pictures of them in her social media accounts. The breakup news between the solo idol and the NCT member followed. Taeyong just shook his head watching Yuta exit the CEO’s office with droopy shoulders. “I really like her for you, hyung.” Mark claimed when he entered the practice room. 

He didn’t know where it went wrong. They were happy. Everyone likes their relationship. His fans are her fans, and hers are his. They were tagged as the greatest idol couple, often paired in dances since it’s both their strengths. Y/N was casted in a period drama and he’s a supportive boyfriend who visited her the first day of the filming and thanked everyone for taking care of his girlfriend. She filmed romantic scenes, kissing her actor co-star. And he was fine. “It’s work, Yuta.” She would always say. And he would just smile. 

He started hosting a radio show with a female Japanese idol and he was cold at her, wanting to stir away from controversy. But as her drama progressed, with more romantic scenes and more kissing, he felt left out. She’s becoming a star. And he’s becoming Y/N’s idol boyfriend. Slowly, he’s getting fed up with the relationship that’s slowly getting centered on her. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air that it all ended now. Like a thorn removed from his aching heart. 

All the public’s sympathy went to her, as he expected. She’s the star. The more famous one among the two of them. So he just painted himself as the bad guy by confirming that he’s dating his co-host which surprised the other girl. The agency was surprised at the decision but it became such a media frenzy that their radio show got high ratings every week. Even the sales of their album spiked up and he became known as NCT’s Yuta and not as someone’s idol boyfriend.

Everything is getting better. 

-----      

It was the end of the year award show when they crossed paths again. They were doing a great job avoiding each other. Why now? Nine members meant a vacant seat from the round table artists are seated at. The staff repeatedly apologized but as kind as she is, she just smiled and sat between Doyoung and Jaehyun, just across Yuta. She greeted all the members, even complimenting Haechan’s hair and Taeil’s suit. “Congratulations on best album.” she greeted, smiling widely to avoid the awkwardness. 

“Aren’t you releasing an album as well?” Johnny asked that made her nod. “Another dance track?” Taeyong asked but Y/N shook her head saying that it was a ballad album and that she will perform later. The guys were obviously surprised, ballad isn’t her best track. She’s more known for her dancing skills so it is indeed a huge surprise. 

When the best female idol awardee was called, the NCT members all stood up to congratulate her. Jungwoo even helped her with her pink lace gown. She did the usual thank you message: thanking her parents, the almighty being, the management, the staffs, and her fans. “And lastly…” Yuta gasped. Whenever she gets an award, she thanks him lastly for comforting and always supporting her. “Please watch out for my album.” He felt his heart drop, especially when she smiled that angelic smile. Why is she shaking him like this? 

Yuta was already bored. He just wants to go home. The lights dimmed and the emcees announced her as the next performer. Because it’s a live performance, they showed some clips of her photoshoot for her new album. He had to agree that this concept fits her. She looked prettier than when they used to go out.

He was more surprised to see an orchestra accompaniment behind her on stage. Her, seated on a platform, wearing a white sequined dress that shines like stars when the spotlight shone on her. The crowd clapped just as the start of the song played. (Imagine this as the performance.) 

The other members warily glanced at him. A break up song. Why isn’t he surprised? 

My dream changed - instead of a famous singer, I tried to become a good wife

He remembered how she would always try to learn to cook whenever she had extra time. She never mentioned anything to him. It was until one night, they were laying next to each other, when she asked him if he wanted her to continue being an idol. That made him curious that time. She loved performing. Why would she ask that? 

Now, he knew why. 

By the time the second chorus rolled in, he was just amazed at how she could sing those notes while seated down. Her singing really got better. 

Someday you’ll probably call me then I hope you will be a man and congratulate me

Because this is all thanks to you, I’ll prepare a good thank you message for you

He can hear Mark giggling beside him. Johnny pursed his lips as if preventing to laugh. “Hyung, please record her thank you message.” the youngest member teased that made him annoyed. 

Her voice echoed all throughout the venue. Her adlibs hitting notes that she cannot do before and she’s sitting while doing that. 

Slowly, I got over you like that

Their eyes met. Those sparkling eyes. She’s shining. She looks well. She looks better. Without him. 

The fresh air suffocated him, burning his lungs in the process. The thorn that was removed came back and brought friends, a knife tearing his heart into pieces. 

Everything is getting better. For her. Not for him.

The moment he went inside the empty apartment, he felt like breaking down. This is harder than the time she left. He missed her. He’s a wreck without her. A huge mess. Why is he taken over by his jealousy? She deserves to be the center of the relationship. The star. She deserves the whole world. Is it too late for him to get everything back now? He took his phone as a song on the radio played, “Mark, I need your help.” 

Another award show meant another chance to cross paths with her. To Y/N’s surprise, Yuta congratulated her with a wide smile after winning an award. The staffs were repeatedly asking if the members were sure of doing this that made the manager and the leader nod. Johnny was seated in front of the grand piano, Mark on one side with his guitar. Taeil, Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Yuta seated on different chairs in the middle of the stage. (Song)

Johnny started the melody while Mark played his guitar. Jaehyun started the song that made Y/N look at them from the artists’ place. Yuta smiled. Her favorite band. Taeil started singing the chorus with Yuta as back-up vocals. Doyoung sang the second verse while Jaehyun sang the chorus, followed by Taeil. By the end of the song, they lightly glance at Yuta. His last cry for her. 

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

And I chase it down, with the shot of truth

He glanced at her, staring straight to those sparkling eyes. 

That my feet don’t dance like they did with you

The lights dim but he saw her silhouette remain on her seat, shoulders visibly heaving. Behind the spotlight, Yuta finally realized that like a ghost, he cannot shake her off. She’ll keep haunting him because he cannot let go of her. Yuta finally realized that he is still in love with her. 

They had been busy with the concerts abroad and she had been busy with the promotion of her album. Yuta’s co-host quit the radio show and days later, it was announced that she was pregnant. The members were surprised at first but it was her who confirmed that Yuta isn’t the father of the child. The public sympathy went to Yuta for the alleged cheating that the girl had done, making him in the center of the media frenzy once again. 

It was a Japanese radio show when he met Y/N again. He had to promote the Japanese leg of their concert while she promoted her Japanese single. She looked casual greeting him, as if nothing happened but her words echoed in his ears “It’s just work, Yuta.” Maybe it was really nothing to her. 

They were seated next to each other. He watched her put on her headphones then rubbed her palms together. “I kinda forgot Japanese.” she claimed then said a Japanese phrase to introduce herself. “Is that right?” He nodded, his warm gaze still on hers. Too casual. “I’m nervous.” 

He wanted to hug her. Comfort her. Tell her that everything will be alright. That he’s next to her so she doesn’t have to worry about anything. 

But he can’t. She’s not his. 

The host kept on claiming that they looked good together that startled them both. When the staff told him something in Japanese, he kept on apologizing while saying that he doesn’t know that they used to date. She just smiled, shaking her head to avoid the awkwardness. She really did move on. The radio show went smoothly until the last part where they had to sing a duet together. Y/N was obviously surprised. Didn’t she know? “We can skip it if you don’t want to.” Yuta whispered. 

Once again she shook her head. “It’s fine. I just haven’t prepared for it.” she claimed while looking at the music sheet. “The notes are a little high.” 

“You’ll do great. Your singing got better.” She giggled at the reference and he smiled. He missed her laugh. 

Y/N focused on the lyrics, asking the translator to tell her what the words mean or how to pronounce it. Yuta was reading the lyrics, seated next to her when she laughed. “Yuta,” she called and he felt his heart jump from his chest. He missed her voice calling his name. “Should we switch parts?” He looked surprised, curious even. “I mean, the lyrics.” 

Yuta smiled. “Should we?” 

Y/N giggled. “Sometimes I am convinced they’re doing this on purpose.” He smiled while looking at her. He missed her. So much. 

The host was asking repeatedly if they want to continue this, apologizing if it ever makes them uncomfortable but she would just smile and shake her head. He thanked her for being professional and she grinned, making Yuta breathless. He missed her smile. 

They were introduced and she even made a fighting sign at him as the melody started. It was a lonely song and Yuta poured all his feelings on his part. (This is the song they used. Dude, can they just remaster it by asking Yuta to sing this?) 

Long time no see

His eyes turned to her. He missed everything about her. 

We cannot express how we feel

Breath echoes in our ears 

The radio show staff all turned to them in surprise. 

My dear, you’ve already found a new love

She turned to him with her sparkling eyes. 

There is no one like you

I am cheating my heart

He sang while staring at her. She even missed the first beat of her part then smiled while looking at the music sheet in front of them. The bridge of the song came and the staff looked in awe at both of them.  

But you are not mine anymore

They stared at each other while singing those words. By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was breaking so she stepped farther from the mic immediately. A smile escaped her lips when the host asked if she’s alright, apologizing that she ruined the song. Everyone were giving them compliments, fans commenting on how amazing they deliver the song and wishing that they can do a collab in the future. 

“Y/N,” Yuta called on the hallways of the building. He breathed hard while she just nodded at her manager, asking her to go first. “I…” He started but the words cannot come out of his mouth. I’m sorry. My ego got the worst of me. My insecurity caused our fall. I’m a wreck without you. Please come back to me. 

“Let’s not talk about it, Yuta.” She said while shaking her head. “We were immature. We’re so used to each other that we took each other for granted.” She grinned once again, eyes sparkling. Upon closer look, he figured out why. Her tears were forming. Like little pearls in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Yuta.” The words he cannot tell her. “Let’s be happy, hmm?” 

Yuta smiled, taking the hand she held out. “Can I call you when I am feeling miserable?” 

The girl laughed. “My number didn’t change.” She claimed. “And I still have to give you my thank message.” 

He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. “I missed you, Y/N.” 

------

Fans were delighted seeing Y/N and Yuta seated next to each other in the V-live account. A thing they always do every year on their anniversary. She was smiling, her lovely smile, while waving at the camera. Yuta adjusted the camera to capture them both before smiling his angelic smile. 

“I didn’t know your V-live account still works even if it isn’t used for a year.” She claimed, leaning in to read some comments. “I also didn’t know that there are still fans who come in this V-live account.” The number of watching people raised up that startled even Yuta. 

They both introduced themselves in a lively manner before the NCT member explained that they did this V-live as a thank you to fans who trended the song they sang in Japan. “I didn’t know that it would blow up like this.” He claimed and she nodded, even laughing at how embarrassing it is that her voice broke in the end. 

They started reading some comments about how fans missed them together, that they look together, and that their playfulness as a couple came back. “Are you back together?” Yuta read, pointing at the comment. 

“We’re not together together,” Y/N started then emphasized the last word with air quote marks. “We’re just…” She lightly glanced at him who was looking at her, mirroring the same smile she had. “Just patching things up and fixing ourselves.” Yuta continued for her. 

“Is there a possibility of a come back?” 

Y/N giggled before pointing at Yuta. “NCT is coming back with a new album. I’m preparing for a fall comeback.” The guy laughed at that. “Yuta, do you want to be featured in my album?” 

He nodded immediately. “Will you write me a love song?” 

She grinned, shaking her head playfully. “I’m not gonna write you a love song~” she sang before laughing. Yuta chuckled, poking her side playfully. “But we’ll see.” 

The fan asked what they had been up to. Y/N shared that she’s writing songs for her album and Yuta saying that he hangs out with the members often and the preparations for their comeback. “I’ve been hanging out with Jaehyun a lot.” he claimed, “I’ve been liking his music choices lately.” 

“You’re already done with your rocker state?” She asked, feigning a shock. “What song have you been listening to lately?” 

Yuta smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket. He played the song and Y/N smiled that there’s still a rockish feel on it.  (Song)

Oh, all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

Yuta mouthed the words, trying to look for comments but his gaze was on her while jamming on the song. A smile crept his lips and he saw how one fan pointed out that he’s so in love with her. He is. 

“This song is so nice.” 

“Honestly, it kinda reminds me of you.”

He’s singing ‘She’s a, She’s a lady And I am just a boy’

He’s singing ‘She’s a, She’s a lady’ And I am just a line without a hook’

Oh baby, I am a wreck when I’m without you I need you here to stay

She looked surprised when Yuta sang the lines of the songs. The side of his lips curled up when he saw the sparkle back in her eyes. They talked a bit about what fans should watch out from their respective schedules. They said goodbye in a lively manner before Yuta ended the V-live. 

Y/N leaned on the couch, breathing heavily. She lightly glanced at Yuta and he smiled. “Want to get some sushi?” She nodded, grinning widely. 

Yuta cannot shake her off. Like a ghost, she will keep haunting him. And hopefully, she can come back to him. 

[souichioneshots]

Souichi x Farmer!Reader

Souichi goes to visit one of his oldest farmer friends for some straw. In return, he makes her a voodoo doll and things get a litttlleee steamy

ahaha idk lol

Souichi heavily breathed through his mouth as he continued to walk down the treeless path. The summer sun shining down on him was making him sweat bullets, and having a large leather satchel cling to his body was starting to make him feel sick.

“Why does she have to live so far away…” Souichi mumbled to himself as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Passing a couple more rice fields, a large Japanese-style cottage finally came into view. It was surrounded by a couple of mango trees and 2 PVC greenhouses. He could see from the outside that they were once again filled completely with strawberries and tomatoes.

As he approached the house, he realized that all of the cars were gone. He thought for a second that he came all this way for nothing, but then he heard a familiar voice echoing in the distance.

“Kuro! Way to me! Shiro! Lie down! Hairo! Lie down!!” Souichi quickly made his way to the back of the house, where the voice was coming from.

As he pushed past a large bush, he finally saw you. You had been herding a large trip of white-tan goats and your 3 dogs, Kuro, Shiro, and Hairo were also doing their best to keep the goats in place.

“Y/N!” Souichi called out from a distance, getting your attention.

“Hmm? Souichi!!” You turned around and called back, jumping slightly in the air.

Souichi laughed as the goats also turned in his direction and let out a little “meh” sound as a greeting.

“Give me a second. I’ll be done in a bit.”

Souichi watched from under the shade of a tree as you continued to order your dogs to do their job.

You and Souichi had been friends for as long as he could remember. It was actually his grandmother who introduced him to you when he was younger. She used to get straw and other ritualistic material from your family when she practiced magick, and now he was getting stuff from you as well.

Today, he had come for his usual satchel fill of straw, and anything else you would give him as a gift. You loved to give him gifts. From fresh rice, to mangos, and even white strawberries.

Everyone in the town knew your family used magick because there was no way mangos nor white strawberries could grow in the weather conditions this part of Japan had to offer.

“Sorry for the wait!” You held onto your straw hat as you ran up to the boy. “We actually built a new barn last week for the straw. It’s this way.”

Getting up from his spot, Souichi walked with you to a small open barn located on the other side of your house.

“Woah…” Souichi looked up in awe at the massive amount of straw you had stored up this season.

“Pretty impressive, right? It’s the largest haul we’ve had in years. Praise Ninigi.” Turning towards the sun, you bowed once. Souichi quickly turned with you and did the same.

You laughed a bit at his sudden action. You knew that without his grandmother around, he wasn’t sure how to act in these types of situations. So, he mostly just copied you.

Putting your hand out, you gestured for Souichi to give you his satchel.

"Do you need me to tie them up or can I just stuff it in here?" You asked as you walked over to a large pile of loose straw.

"Just like that is fine." Souichi replied.

Picking up a handful of straw, you neatly placed it inside. When it was finally full enough, you closed it up and handed it back to the boy.

Although it was a lot, it still felt surprisingly light. Hopefully, it won't go to waste this time.

Sitting on a large straw stack, you took off your hat. You shook your head side to side as your long hair flowed from inside the hat and down onto the straw you were sitting on. You had been growing your hair out since kindergarten. Never cutting it once. Just the sheer length of it made you look like a goddess yourself. Although it was a big distraction when you worked, you planned on using your ‘virgin uncut hair’ in future rituals. At least, that’s what you told Souichi.

Patting the empty space next to you, you asked Souichi to sit next down.

“Ma actually took away the voodoo doll you made me last time you came over… Think you can you make me a new one…” You said in a sad voice as you looked at the boy.

“Again?” Souichi replied, sighing loudly.

Although your family practiced black magick in order to keep the farming business alive, you were strictly forbidden from practicing curses and other types of voodoo until you turned ○○. In the meanwhile, your mother forced you to tend to the farm and learn how to be a proper worker. That’s why whenever Souichi came over, in exchange for whatever he wanted, he would teach you anything he knew about black magick in secret.

Currently, you were learning how to make straw voodoo dolls.

You didn’t really have anyone in particular that you wanted or needed to curse, but you wanted to be prepared just in case anything happened in the future.

You smiled widely as the raven-haired boy took out a pair of pruning shears and red string from the front pocket of his satchel.

Grabbing a couple handfuls of straw, you placed them on your lap for him to freely use.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re making it by yourself this time.” He sternly said.

“Eh~? But I’m tired from doing chores all morning…I’ll give ya a kilogram of rice if you make this one for me~” Souichi just shook his head no. He would need a better incentive if you wanted him to do this for you again.

“Hmmm…Aha! I’ll give you a whole box of fresh white strawberries as well!” Souichi smiled as you offered him exactly what he wanted. There was a reason your family sold their strawberries for over 20,000 yen a box. Getting them for free from you was one of the best parts of coming over.

“Fine. But this is the last time. And pay attention this time.” Humming happily, you handed him a handful of straw.

“First, make a circle with your thumb and index finger. Then place enough straw to fill it completely. When you get the right amount, you use some string to… Uhh... Hold this.”

Handing you the bundle of straw, he used the shears to cut a couple pieces of string to use.

“…Hold it up straight up…Yeah, like that. You tie up the top end around here. Next, you repeat this with another section of straw. When you finish that, you slide one section into the middle of the other. Then you just tie it up here, and here. Lastly, you part it in the middle for the leg sections… And then you tie up those ends and…Done!”

You let out a small whine as your mind failed to keep up with Souichi's speedy motions and vague explanation. You wanted to ask him to do it again, this time much slower, but you knew he would just go at the same speed again.

Cutting the extra pieces of straw that stuck out from the ends of the voodoo doll, he made it look presentable.

“So, what do you think? Pretty good, right?” Souichi proudly said as he handed it to you.

“Yeah! I think it might even be better than the one you made me last time!" You replied as you examined the doll in awe. "So, all I need in order to curse someone is their picture?” The straw crunched in your fingers as you opened up the chest section a bit.

“You can also use their hair, and at times when your hatred towards them is at its peak, you can just write down their name on a piece of paper, stuff it in the middle there, and it’ll work.”

You hummed in amusement as the boy once again explained to you the way straw voodoo dolls worked.

“Hair, huh…” You said to yourself in a voice so quiet not even Souichi could hear.

Moving closer to him, you spoke in a loving voice. “I never did thank you for the last doll you made me, did I?” Putting the doll down on the empty space next to you, you moved to place a quick kiss on the boy’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Ah! Hehe…I-It was no problem… I can make you more anytime you want really…” Souichi turned his face away from you, trying to hide the blush that had grown on his cheeks.

You were always the affectionate type.

“Then, I should probably thank you in advance~” Bringing your hand to his face, you turned him towards you. Souichi’s body burned with embarrassment as you placed multiple kisses on his cheek again.

“You know, you can also thank me for always giving you so much straw~” You teased as you tapped your own cheek, hinting for him to give you a small kiss back.

Closing his eyes, Souichi moved to plant a kiss on your cheek. However, you also moved back to face him as well.

Souichi’s eyes shot open as you pressed your lips against his.

The remaining straw on your legs fell to the ground as you moved to straddle the blushing boy.

You were perhaps a bit too affectionate really.

But Souichi wasn’t complaining.

Souichi’s eyes fluttered closed as he melted into your kiss. Your hands caressed his face as you quickly deepened the kiss.

Souichi playfully bit your bottom lip as you tried to pull back for air, forcing you to return back to him. He liked to experiment with different ways of teasing you every time you spontaneously kissed him like this.

Slowly, your hands ran through his hair, making it messier than it was before.

"Ow!" Souichi pushed you back and yelled in pain as you suddenly pulled his hair.

Moving to sit up, you gloated.

“Haha! Now that I have your hair, you have to follow everything I say or I’ll curse you to death!” You laughed as you help up a single strand of dark hair. You were expecting Souichi to try to get it back from you, but he didn’t.

Looking back at you with an equally victorious smile, he moved his hands in front of you, showing off the contents it held.

“That makes two of us~ Kekekeke~”

Your smile dropped and your eyes widened in shock as you saw the shears in one hand and a large amount of your hair in another.

Bringing your hands up to your head, you felt the difference in hair length on each side.

“How could you…” Tears ran down your cheeks, making Souichi stop his cackling.

“I hate you!!” Pushing yourself off the boy, you got onto your feet and started to run towards your house. “I’m telling Baphomet!!”

The goats in the barn loudly cried as you mentioned the name of the deity your family religiously worshiped.

“Crap! No!! Y/N!!” Jumping off the straw-stack, Souichi threw your hair and the shears onto the ground.

“Wait!! I’m sorry!!” Souichi exclaimed as he chased after you.

Just before he could grab ahold of you, you ran into the house. You were so upset that you didn’t even bother to take off your shoes.

Souichi slipped on the grass as he tried to stop himself from going any further. He knew he couldn’t enter your house without your given permission.

Souichi felt his mind go into a panic as he saw you approach the large altar in your living room.

The goats in the barn cried even louder and banged their horns against the wooden walls as you pointed towards the boy outside your house.

Just before he could run away for safety, your three dogs surrounded him. Souichi let out a high-pitched cry of fear as the dogs barked and growled, forcing him to stay in place.

He made a big mistake messing with the daughter of the Baphomet worshiping family.

[ryvgvji]

So I have a request that’s been cooking in my mind for the past two weeks about. How would asahi and more importantly his team react to a foreign exchange student that was Spanish as she has that classic brown curly hair. However spoke perfect Japanese. asahi having the hugest crush on her and doesn’t have the actual guts to ask her out. What the team will be reacting to his that she’s going to be a manager of the team. I hope I spelled his name right as it’s been a while since I’ve actually seen how that spelled 😹😹😹

karasuno reaction to latina reader

featuring - team karasuno

warnings - none

a/n - sorry for the long wait, been busy. but hope you enjoy and hope you are all safe <3

ASAHI AZUMANE – he saw you walk through those gymnasium doors and the world stops. he couldn’t stop looking at you. you made eye contact, making him freeze as his cheek grew hotter by the second. you waved at him and he shyly returned the gesture. you came up to him and he had a conversation with him. after months of talking to you and with the help from Noya and Sugawara-senpai, he gained the courage to ask you out. "y/n-san? i was wondering if, um, you would, maybe wanna go on a date. with me?" he looks down at the floor, softly rubbing the back of his neck. you answer yes and he's very happy. "yes? o-okay, i'll pick you up for 7. see you."

SUGAWARA KOSHI – when you first met you were in his class. you introduced yourself to the class before the teacher assigned you the seat next to him. he said hi to you and you both became friends from there. you sat at lunch together and met Daichi as well and you discussed that you were the new manager and you were very excited. months went by and you been with them for a while sugawara peeped that you Asahi had a crush on you and set it up for you two to go out. when Asahi asked you out he overheard and shouted "say yes!" winking at you.

DAICHI SAWAMURA – you first met through Sugawara while having lunch. he was surprised to find out that you were the new manager on the team. he walked with you after school to the gymnasium and introduced you to the team. months time pass and he grew more and more fond of you with all the help and advice you share with him. he thinks of you like a sister. when he found out that both you and asahi have a crush on each other, he secretly roots for you two and hope you get together. “congratulations you two.”

RYUUNOSUKE TANAKA – when you first came on the team he was intrigued by you smarts about volleyball and found you cool. after the first practice he came up to you and had a small talk with you, cracking some jokes and y’all hit it off like that. it’s a very crackhead kind of friendship. whenever he sees another team staring or talking about you, kiyoko and yachi he snarls at them and acts tough. he found out that you and asahi were a thing and he hyped y’all up. “Asahi got moves!!!” he later asks if you could set him up with Kiyoko.

YU NISHINOYA – he saw you and was fascinated with you. the way that your curls bounced and framed your face— you were a goddess in his eyes. he lowkey flirts with you and has a crush on you. you guys have a big sister little brother bond. always asking you for help with schoolwork but never pays attention regardless. he brings you snacks everyday. when he found out Asahi had a thing for you, he helped to put him on. “don’t break her heart Asahi, remember that i’m still her number one.” he smirks.

HINATA SHOYO – another one who is mesmerized by your hair. he came up to you during practice to ask about how you get your hair like that. he was so interested while listening about your background and complemented you so much. every single practice he talks with you about volleyball and Kageyama. sees you as his big sister and likes to spend time with you. he heard that asahi liked you and was actually the one that told you about it. “Y/N-SAN!! Asahi likes you!!!”

KAGEYAMA TOBIO – he was surprised to hear that there was a new manager. when he met you he thought you were very pretty. he never really approached you or anything more so stays to himself. one day while we was practice alone you offered to help him out and he really appreciated it. he gets shy when you would praise him and mutters a quiet thank you which Tsukkishima teases him for. hearing that Asahi had a crush on you wasn’t anything major for him but he also secretly root for you two. “congrats y/n-san, asahi-san.”

TSUKKISHIMA KEI – doesn’t really care that there was a new manager coming in but was surprised to see someone like you. as much as he wouldn’t admit it, he thought you were attractive. he never confronts you but he would secretly steal glances at you. he mocks you for hanging with Noya and Shoyo, laughing. he doesn’t think you’re bad and can actually tolerate you. actually admires you as well. when he found out about asahi and you he didn’t care but did pay his respects to you both. he saw from the first day how asahi looked at you. “good for you both.”

TADASHI YAMAGUCHI – he was very interested in learning about you but never really got to talk to you because he was with Tsukki all the time. one day when he was going to practice his serves and he saw you there setting up and started up a conversation. from then you guys we’re both acquaintance. when he would talk with Yachi he would invite you in the chat. someday we could invite you to hang out with them as well. he had heard that Asahi was with someone but wouldn’t think that it was you. mans mind is blown. “YOU’RE DATING THE ACE?!!”

CHIKARA ENNOSHITA – he was very nice to you from the beginning introducing himself and telling you how he liked your hair and features. he learns about about your culture and is actually a bit educated on a bit of it from his personal research. during practices you talk about the different playing styles and tactics that the boys can work on with coach Ukai. he thinks you cool and likes you like a friend. finding out that you were with Asahi wasn’t so much a shocker but not expected. “who wouldn’t wanna date y/n, she’s cool!”

HISASHI KINOSHITA – he doesn’t talk to you a lot but will join in a conversation that you and Ennoshita is in. he unintentionally makes you laugh when he’s roasting Tanaka and it makes him smile to know that he could make you laugh. thinks you’re fun and hangs back with you to help clean up after practice or even just chat with you on the bench. understanding that you and Asahi is a thing he was cool about and sent his respects. “i’m happy for you y/n-san!”

KAZUHITA NARITA – he thinks that you are really pretty. he sometime chat with you but for the most part is quiet. he helps out with setting up and cleaning. hearing that you and Asahi have a thing, he think that it cool. “really? that’s cool y/n.”

[teawaffles]

Hi there! Thank you so much for all the translation work you do for the yuumori fandom, you're truly a blessing for this fandom! I reread some of your light novel translations so much that I practically have them memorized by now!

Anyway, I have a question about how Louis addresses his brothers. Does Louis address William and Albert differently? I know that Louis addresses William with "nii-san" (William nii-san), but I've heard him address Albert with "nii-sama" once in the anime (I can't remember any other instances haha). However, I was a bit skeptical because there was also that one time in the anime he referred to William as "William nii-sama" to Moran (that ep with Bond and the bank robbers I think), so I was wondering if he consistently used "nii-sama" to address Albert, or if it was just a one-time thing.

Sorry if this is a bit incomprehensible. I hope you're doing well. Once again, thank you very very much!!

hello! oh gosh thank you 🥰 really glad that these translations mean so much to you!! (and a shoutout to those who binged all three novels over the past week or so: hope you guys enjoyed them too :3)

about how louis addresses his brothers, I’ve only read the manga in japanese from ch48 onwards; but from my experience with the light novels (which follow the manga closely), the hierarchy of addresses is as follows:

louis → william: nii-san

louis → albert: nii-sama

william → albert: nii-san

and it is never subverted (e.g. louis never called william nii-sama there). I’ve tried skimming some manga raws too, and this hierarchy holds true as far as I’m aware:

(top to bottom: ch24, ch4, ch32)

as for the anime, I’ve tried skimming s2 ep4 (the four servants episode), and I think the confusion stemmed from this scene:

I also thought Louis said “William nii-sama” at first; but when I replayed that bit, he actually said “William nii-san no meirei…” (William nii-san’s orders) — which follows the manga script exactly. so I think the hierarchy of addresses has remained consistent over the manga and anime :3

hope this helps!

~rion

PS: thank you for waiting! (I've been super-busy 😢)

PPS: and if you don’t mind, I’m interested to know which light novel story across the three books was your favourite ☺️ (tbh anyone can feel free to reply to this post too!)

[pekotranslates]

Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

[shhhlikeme]

hello!! i really loved your hq writing and i think they were pretty spot on! do u mind writing abt a reader who’s basically a first year version of kiyoko (like everyone is attracted to her) and all the first years are just into her but come to find out she’s been dating yamaguchi all this time ? jealous yams maybe? sorry if it’s too specific🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Yamaguchi Tadashi x Really Sexy Yoga Instructor S/O

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A/N: Thank you so much anon! You’re speaking my language with this request😍

It sounds a lot like the first ever request I got here, so this can be seen as a part two, or read as a stand alone. I hope you like it!!!

Not NSFW, but please only read if you’re over 18 y/o.

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Yams, your beloved boyfriend of a few months will be the first to admit that he made a mistake volunteering you to help his volleyball team

About a month ago, Coach Ukai felt as though the team was way too pent up and ordered his players to indulge in some calming activities on one of the no-practice days with the goal of making the team less irritable

The coach found that Yoga would be a great solution

Coach Ukai had read that the benefits of Yoga include but are not limited to: increased flexibility, increased muscle strength and tone, improved respiration, more energy and vitality, maintenance of a balanced metabolism, improved athletic performance, protection from injury, overall relaxation and stress relief.

Ukai thought that yoga was a no-brainer because if Karasuno was going to win the National tournament, then they had to adopt unconventional means in order to get an edge on the competition

Unfortunately, Takeda, the volleyball club’s advisor, couldn’t exactly find the budget to get the entire team signed up for weekly yoga sessions at the big studio downtown

Aw man :(

But fear not! smh

Your boyfriend to the team’s rescue! Great 😑

Thank goodness for your sweet baby 👍🏾 not

He’s just too caring for his own good isn’t he? You wish he’d stop

Because he..... well, lucky for Karasuno, your boyfriend Yamaguchi happily suggested that the team goes to the Karasuno High School’s Yoga Club sessions at the local community centre. The community centre hosts great swim, cooking, and even archery lessons! It would be perfect because it would be within budget and the 7am yoga sessions were always empty, because not many people knew about them.

“How do you know they’re legit? I don’t want my players getting hurt because some kids think it’s fun to twist n’ contort their bodies —“ Inquired coach Ukai. The entire team turned to Tadashi, awaiting his response.

Your annoying sweet man explained that all of the Yoga club members are certified by Japanese Health Standards and they are well-versed in their instructing, it was kind of the point of the club. He was sure the club would love the volleyball team’s company

Your boyfriends’ coach’s face lit up. When Ukai’s next question pertained to how tf Tadashi knew all of this, that’s finally when his face fell

Oops.

He’s so cute He wanted to help so badly he forgot that this could be a bad idea

How did he know all this? Well, maybe because his girlfriend of 3 months, you, run the damn club. And he knows everything about you because he’s whipped.

However, Tadashi couldn’t exactly tell them that was the reason because he is very private and didn’t want to introduce his beautiful girlfriend to guys that were sure to drool over her

Plus he wanted to make sure you weren’t in a daze when he confessed to you, testing whether one day you’ll wake up & realize you made a big mistake

Yamaguchi, quick on his feet, just said that you were his friend and you ran the club.

They believed it obviously, and that’s how it all started

Since there were multiple morning Yoga sessions, Coach Ukai divided the team into years for mandatory session attendance. The first years were scheduled for Monday’s at 7am, the second years on Wednesday’s (same time) and the 3rd years were on Fridays (same time).

You were late to your first session with the boys because even though Yams told you the team would start coming (and to keep your relationship a secret) you were used to being the only one here doing Yoga

You were only slightly startled when you opened the door to your beloved studio and saw Karasuno volleyball’s first years: Tsukishima, Kageyama, Hinata and your beautiful man Yams sitting down on Yoga mats patiently.

You cheerily introduced yourself and greet everyone, finding yourself happy to have the company

Yamaguchi was the only one to verbally greet you back, because the other boys were staring at you with what you would deem odd expressions

Yams noticed his solo greeting too and looked over to his teammates. He frowned because he knew the look on their faces and the lack of a voice very well.

How could he not? It was the same reaction he had when he saw you for the first time he was sure you came out of his wet dreams

You are so hot, and now his fellow first years were noticing

Yams pouted inside

Anyway, the same way you didn’t notice when Yamaguchi had that stare when you two met, you just got straight to business, setting down your pink yoga mat and water bottle and explaining all the rules.

It’s a good thing yoga sessions are supposed to be silent with only the sounds of the rain forest playing loud through the rooms speakers because I don’t think the boys could have spoken anyway

You did basic yoga stretches and had the boys follow your every movement

As you showed them the simple beginner poses, Tadashi caught Hinata and Kageyama sneaking glances at your figure with heavy blushes on their faces

If Tsukki thought you were attractive, which omfg did he ever, he didn’t show it in the slightest

Yamaguchi was happy to call him his best friend

The quick-attack boys could not say the same

Like the schoolboys they are, they relished in seeing a gorgeous female’s flexible body easily contort in front of them

Tadashi noted that, for two of the most intensely competitive people he knew, the two were peculiarly a little TOO happy with not doing any of the yoga poses correctly, he could guess why

You, still clueless, walked around the room to help the boys get into correct positioning platonically, the way every Yoga instructor does.

Tadashi on the other hand, was doing so well and you badly wished you could kiss him whenever you moved his body but you were respecting his wishes to keep you two a secret

Kags and Shōyō almost had internal panic attacks when you touched them or got close

They weren’t the greatest with girls but they were especially bad when one of the prettiest and fittest girls they’ve ever encountered was touching them and whispering in their ears to ‘turn like this’ ‘open up a bit more’ because of how quiet yoga should be

The combustion train has left the building! Choo choo 💨

You laughed when volleyball duo boys started shoving each other when Hinata fell out of a pose and landed on Kags

Tadashi’s eyes narrowed because he selfishly didn’t want you laughing at anything those boys did. Nevertheless, he shook it off

Maybe it will get better once the initial shock of your hotness wears off, Yams thought to himself when he left Yoga that morning.

Sure, because that’s how it worked with Kiyoko right?

Yeah, right. The following Monday you were still hot and the boys were still drooling over you.

At real volleyball practices and at lunch time Yamaguchi has to constantly hear the team (minus Tsukishima) gush about how attractive you are and how it wasn’t so bad waking up early in the morning if you were the view they were getting up to see

Now, Tadashi would definitely describe himself as a pretty calm guy......as would anyone who knows him......

But hearing his friends gush about you like you weren’t the smartest, most creative, genuine, conscientious person...... just an ideal body and gorgeous face not that they would know evoked jealous emotions deep within him

On dates with you he would inquire about the other volleyball yoga sessions you taught and you would tell him truthfully that your class of 3rd years were always fine, well behaved and very quiet because they were too busy fantasizing about you in their heads to talk dkm

and then you told your boyfriend that 2 of the second years were pretty flirty take a wild guess who? But that the one boy named Ennoshita got them to simmer down and then stop with the comments completely

Tadashi made a mental note to do a favour for his future captain

He was beginning to get irritated with the way these strong amazing athletes that he looked up to were reduced to goo when his girlfriend came around

He knew it was irrational to be so upset because he was sure they would chill out if they knew she was his girlfriend but

He just wasn’t ready for that yet.

So he endured the comments because even though the team was full of hormonone-crazy males, they never were vulgar or disrespectful in their remarks that was saved for all of their dreams and shower time

Either way,

None of that could stop the locker room talk.

“Did Y/N teach you guys the puppy dog stretch too this week?” Chirped Nishinoya as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The boys nodded. “Man is she s-m-o-k-i-n-g or what?? Don’t you think so, Asahi?”

Yams looked over from his locker to see the quiet and timid Ace of the team unable to help sporting a blush and nodding in agreement to Nishinoya.

Tadashi did NOT like this conversation. He took to chugging his water in order to distract himself from saying something he was sure to regret

“I-I really like Y/N’s yoga pants. They’re really cool!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes at Hinata's comment. “Of course you do, Boke.”

“Keep dreaming short stack!” Hollered Tanaka as he hopped in a super man pose on top of a bench. “For I will one day marry Y/N!”

Uncontrollably, Yamaguchi’s entire liquid contents in his mouth drenched Sugawara’s back in a spit take. Everyone laughed.

Let’s just say Karasuno’s vice captain made Yams do laps until his legs felt like they would fall off

By the third week, poor Yamaguchi had it up to HERE with the team’s pining after his girl.... be it Daichi’s subtle suggestion to the coach to extend AND increase the amount of yoga sessions, to Nishinoya’s memorization of the exact colour of your lip gloss per session

Yams actually growled under his breath when he heard both I swear to God

Yamaguchi felt like he was going to burst if he didn’t wring any necks first .

The entire team was smitten with his secret girlfriend and it made him insanely jealous. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were his. And only his. He wished he never volunteered you to help the team in the first place!

On your dates as a couple, you noticed that Yams was much more tense than he used to be before you started instructing the team. You told him over and over that you would quit this very second because he was so much more important than some silly club. You even suggested easily swapping with your second-in-command as instructor but

He wouldn’t have any of that. Apparently the team was already improving significantly in skill from Yoga like the Coach predicted. You are the best instructor your club had, and his team needed the best.

Plus he knows you love doing it and he puts your happiness before his own

The situation just sucked!

On the final yoga session before nationals, you arranged for the entire team to conjoin in one single morning session that would be longer at two hours instead of one, to go through everything they have learned in a mass session. It was also to make sure the numbers were even because today would be strictly focused on Partner Yoga!

The crows filed in to your studio, excited to see you and set up as usual

You walked in and told them about the partner yoga, and before they could volunteer to be your partner and upset your boyfriend, you told everyone you already had a partner and gestured toward the studio entryway:

Kiyoko walked in with a wave at her introduction and she spread her yoga mat next to you facing the class

They said 😳😳😳😳🤯🤯🤯🤯

The entire room was silent. Everyone minus Tsukki and your boyfriend combusted. Like they were done

Remember that combustion train? Yeah it just arrived at its destination: Nosebleed Central.

The boys’ little minds couldn’t fathom two extremely hot girls in compromising, stretchy positions that would look anything but innocent in their male minds

It was kind of a dream come true

You didn’t care that they were acting weird and you started the session, telling the boys to pair up and follow yours and Kiyoko’s lead

Even Yams started to feel hot and bothered at the sight of the multiple positions

he always felt horny watching you instruct yoga but he was able to satiate his lust by reminding himself that you told him you want to sleep with him when he was ready, even though you were taking it slow. he’s always blushing so none of the guys ever thought anything if it

Satiating himself with that thought again, though, flew out the window as an option because you just looked too incredibly hot in partner positions. It got to the point where he wanted to kick Kiyoko out so you could practice these yoga positions with him

He wanted to be the one to put your leg on his shoulder as he pounded into your heat, not Kiyoko no matter how hottttttttt it was to look at

Suga used his fingers to flick Tadashi on the forehead to get his attention away from his secret girlfriend and back to the yoga positions he should be trying with him

“Dude.... trust me, I know, and I agree...” Suga nods in understanding as he glances over at the beautiful girls once more. It takes a good amount of effort for him to peel his eyes back to Yamaguchi. “But we have to do this. Try to pretend they’re not as hot as they are.” He gives your bf a thumbs up for encouragement

Yams didn’t smile back even though he commenced yoga again like his vice captain requested. Yams just wanted all of this to be over so he could somehow sneak you into one of the abandoned rooms in this community centre and take you right there.

Since Kiyoko was only there to demonstrate the positions and not join the class because she had other commitments, she had to leave pretty early

You went around helping everyone like you usually did, and now you definitely noticed how red all the boys’ cheeks were. Yams couldn’t even look at you the entire time he did yoga with Suga and you started to wonder if you did something wrong. Hm.....

Yams couldn’t look at you because he was using every ounce of his restraint to keep from jumping your bones

Before long, Y/N’s final yoga session was nearing completion until you realized that you had forgotten to demonstrate the final pose when Kiyoko was here.

Glancing at your boyfriend who was giving you the cold shoulder, you timidly asked if anyone minded being your partner to demonstrate—

Like zoo animals, all of the boys volunteered!!! You yelped because of how loud they got in the quiet room in a split second.

Does it matter who you choose?

Yamaguchi felt himself boil over in jealousy. These boys were throwing themselves at the woman who means everything to him, and that was enough to drive any man to the brink of insanity.

While the boys bickered about who would be your partner Hinata and Nishi already started the Rock Paper Scissors tournament, including the usually collected captains, Tadashi briskly made his way towards you with purpose. Without even thinking about it he cupped your face with one of his hands and tilted your lips towards his for a deep kiss.

You felt your knees weaken at the intensity of the unexpected kiss from the love of your life.

Yams wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you steady when he felt your knees weaken.

You two barely heard the collective gasp in the room...

...Nor did you hear Tsukki mutter a flat “I knew it.”

When you finally pulled away from your boyfriends perfect lips, you were still drunk off the kiss while he remembered where you two were

With an aura of manly confidence that could only come from the overwhelming satisfaction of giving into the animalistic urge to claim your mate in front of other males, Yamaguchi turned to his team. Shoulders back and confident, he smiled smugly

“Did I forget to tell you all that Y/N is my girlfriend? I’d appreciate if all the endless comments about how beautiful she is would cease to exist, at least around me. She’s very much taken. Oh, and I, ONLY I....will be her partner. Thanks.”

Ok can you imagine how fucking sexy shy Yams would look being strict, intimidating and completely territorial over you? 🤤

Karasuno’s team was stunned into silence before Nishinoya started a slow clap applause like they do in the movies.

Only Tanaka joined in with him. The rest of the team is not that lame

You, on the other hand, got so turned on by your boyfriend display of protection and jealousy that you muttered that class was over and you used your hand to turn Yams attention back to you. You got on the tips of your toes to pull him into another passionate kiss again.

You loved it.

Seeing this side of him stirred up a lot of emotions in you and you couldn’t help but ask your boyfriend if he wanted to skip school today. Your parents weren’t going to be home for 2 days and you had the house to yourself.

With half lidded eyes that only served to turn you on more Yamaguchi agreed.

I hope he knows that he was in for a really long and pleasurable day and night.....you were about to put those years of yoga training to good use, and your boyfriend couldn’t be luckier.

[ninja-in-skirts]

When Night Falls

Image courtesy @pinterest

warnings- none

Scenario- Ever thought how your roommate might not be all that he seems to be...

Cam boy x fem reader [simply insert/imagine yourself in the story and read on]

Tags- Fluff, friendship, cute romance [might be rated M in future scenes, might also involve graphic sexual representation and narration]

In part 2, I’ll be balancing between you and me pov, okay?

Did you see that right? Was that exactly what you saw? But before you could think of something utterly crazy your line of thoughts was cut off by the guy in the room. “Did you just barge into my room?” At ‘my room’ you swiftly turned your neck, the rapidity with which you did so could have snapped your neck into two like in one of those Japanese noirs. “Your room?” You two could hardly see each other, well scratch that, there was no way in hell you could even gauge where you were looking at to be exact, if you’re to go by his heavy and laboured breath he was standing quite close, closer than he was when he was doing his dick-ritual. Okay, you admit he was doing something but then again it’s none of your stupid business, the moment you made it your business you’d end up embarrassing yourself, just as you’re doing now. This possibly couldn’t be his room, right? This unknown guy in darkness must be your roomie’s boyfriend or whatever but not…you so wish he’s your roommate? Don’t you? You felt the room temperature flare up at this, even though you’re pretty aware that you’re asked a question by the present occupant of the room, must be some relative, must be, “Are you going to answer my question or not?” How the hell am I to answer when I am practically blinded by the darkness, you tried to reason, gave up and cleared your throat, “Umm…I thought someone was in need of help?”

“Help…?” You could sense the irritation in his voice. “I heard someone groaning, I guess…” Not being able to withstand the temporary blinding effect you blurted out, “Will it hurt you to switch on the light, please?” “Why should I, this is my room, I make rules, I implement them, you came invading my privacy and expect me to show you civility?” What’s with him calling this ‘his room?’ And so you moved forward making something go tumbling across the floor, and the next thing you knew you’d collided with the guy, making him lose his balance and fall with a massive thud on the floor, your head against his chest, a very naked chest it was, as you tried getting up and touched something soft and squishy, he went all rigid, “Stop pushing at me like I am some toy of yours, fucking take your hands off my dick!” WHATTTTT!!! It was his penis that you’d touched, oh my what a novel way to introduce yourself to a stranger. You’re roughly pushed away, but you caught onto his arm and steadied yourself, “What am I? Your personal hanger?” Wouldn’t mind though, I’ve not even seen you…Your breaths mixed and matched with the close proximity you two were, although it wasn’t heavenly but it wasn’t stinking either, it was too sweet to your liking, think he lives on chocolates? His body odour was natural, his own personal scent, stop being a creepy pervert like Jean Baptiste Grenouille, but you couldn’t help yourself so you inhaled in the heady, sweaty smell that was making you go all tipsy. He smelt like he’d been working out, exactly how a man smells without those mind-numbing puke-ish perfumes. “What exactly are you doing now?” You could hear the snicker in his voice, oh lord caught red-handed. You let go of his arm and stood up, marched towards the door with the darkness still impeding your sense of direction, hit your head, “Oww!” “Ah, look at that will you, I didn’t say you could leave…” You were in pain but then again you’re explainable to him considering he was occupying the room, roommate or not, with your back to him, you cursed mentally, bit your lips, “I am sorry for that, I mean I did honestly have good reasons…” “Seriously? You know this is my room right?” “What?” You turned towards him, with this he had switched on the light making you blink hard at him and your surroundings. The walls were dark blue, the curtains black and the man was hot. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Now that he was looking at you, you finally noticed, exactly what you’d thought, his torso was bare, his nipples taut with the cold air blowing from the AC, woah, his room had an AC? “Wait? Are you Alex?” He looked at me like I was some stupid child, “Who else will I be, and you must be Y/N?” You nodded, your eyes moved down his lean yet muscular chest to his pelvis, the gods were cruel, in the middle of the scuffle he must have worn his pants, that little bit of hope from the dick-silhouette had been dashed, since he was now wearing pants. “My eyes”, he motioned with his fingers, “are up here.” He looked pissed off, his hair was shaggy and hid his eyes to a certain extent creating that mysterious yet delicious look, did I just say delicious? Ffffuu… He must have realized your lack of ability to speak because of his nudity, with the corner of his lips twisting into a smile.

To not further embarrass yourself and worsen the situation you cleared your throat and said, “I am sorry, I thought my roommate was a girl/woman hence the shock,” you motioned with your hands towards him and then hit your forehead with your palm. He sniggered and began laughing, “Really? Seems like I have an over-assumer for a roommate…” He dramatically wiped the corners of his eyes in a sympathetic gesture, talk about over drama, this guy. You already were having second thoughts where his beauty and uncivility were not quite turning out to your taste. “Okay, I admit it, it was my fault for assuming you to be a girl and also for barging in without your permission but…” The words died in your mouth the moment you’re itching to ask him what he was doing with his umm hockey stick out, playing poker, taking a shot? What? He must’ve realized it, cause literally every single emotion was written across your face. He began looking around, seemingly uncomfortable at your lack of tact. He slowly retrieved his shirt off the bed and took his time in buttoning from the bottom keeping the top three buttons open for the world to have a look at his chest. Ugh, this ferret, you felt like you’re meeting Draco Malfoy in a 21st Century American flat-sharing chapter. Although his hair was the colour of the starless-night sky, his condescending demeanour sure did sum up the analogy. All this time as he buttoned his shirt, he kept his eyes on you, it was some sort of challenge, who dropped their gaze first. As if I was gonna lose to some dick-dancer, eep, you bit your tongue in the process of naming him. You glared at him as he adorably raised his shoulders to feign ignorance, the nerve of this guy. Why am I even getting agitated just because I happened to meet a naked guy, a very handsome one at that, your mind quipped in. You weren’t even fifteen anymore and you’re pretty much immune to nudity considering how you’d miserably failed to draw a nude model in your art class, you’d taken some weeks back, but it wasn’t even your fault at the first place, the guy’s derriere was way too flat and you couldn’t help but tumble out of the class laughing your head off. You liked a man’s butt sculpted in a rotund fashion just like Michelangelo’s David.

It was way past midnight and you had an early morning lecture to attend, your least favourite course on Middle Ages which you wouldn’t dare miss since it was a compulsory paper. “Listen I really have to get back cause I can’t go to college looking like I had smoked pot till sunrise, so I apologise for intruding upon your privacy.” You said that in one breath and looked at him, he was smiling, “Apology accepted, so let’s go back…” he motioned towards the door and to his bed, “and yeah before I forget,” I was waiting, my back was facing him, “you really are one hell of a cook, g’night!” I waved my hand distractedly; he liked my food? HE LIKED MY FOOD! HE LOVED IT!!!! Wait, so before I could say anymore, he was already reaching for the door and walking towards me, I moved back and hit the door frame and skirted away loudly wishing him a goodnight and many a sweet dream. Like hell, I needed someone to wish those to me since I sure wasn’t getting any, tonight.

Your eyes opened the moment the alarm went off at 5.30 they burnt due to the late-night so-so altercation, since all you could do till 3 in the morning was mentally and physically prepare yourself for a life with a male roommate, it isn’t like we’ll be sharing a bed or something, your tried to reason out but failed miserably since 21st Century Draco was exactly your type, and they make you go weak. You made a mental note to get along with him so that your final year goes really smooth with less distractions and misfortunes.

 PS- I know this is really short, will come back with another part. next week. Have got academic commitments I’ve gotta stay true to, so yep there’s that. Adios readers!

Image courtesy @pinterest