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summary: you go on an appointment with your therapist. on your home, you feel a small wave of the well-known melancholy creeping on you again. your husband, notices that, reassuring your concerns and listening to your thoughts.
genre: mild angst/fluff
Gojo had been waiting patiently in the waiting room for you. He sat in a chair, his arms crossed, and his leg over the other. He looked up as you exited the office room, and a soft smile appeared on his face as he saw you.
"Hey there, sweetheart," Gojo greeted you, standing up from his chair and closing the distance between you. He reached out and gently took your hand into his. "How did it go?"
"It was good, though I was a bit nervous. I feel better now." you said softly, caressing his hand, which surprised him.
Gojo was pleasantly surprised by your touch, but his expression stayed calm. He gently squeezed your hand, a small sense of appreciation within him, "I'm glad to hear that," he replied softly. "I'm proud of you, you know."
"I appreciate it... You took a day off to accompany me." you held his hand as you left the clinic. A cold, rainy breeze greeted you two.
He looked into your eyes, his gaze sincere. "Did they ask any hard questions?"
"No. I just told them our plans to conceive a baby." you chuckled softly, walking to the car. The sky was gray with heavy clouds.
"Once a week is my session with Dr. Tomazaki. Also, I appreciated you taking a morning off to accompany me." you completed, bit your bottom lip nervously.
Gojo nodded understandingly as you shared the details of your session. He opened the car door for you, letting you get in before walking around to the driver's side.
"Once a week is pretty manageable, you won't be overwhelmed." he agreed, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the car. He briefly looked at you before his attention shifted to the car gear shift, ready to start it.
"And you're alright with the plan to conceive?" he asked, his tone a bit low but still casual. True to his heart, he was nervous. After all of these years of marriage, he would treat your feelings so carefully in fear to make you upset. You both waited for each other for so long. But in his eyes, you were the most patient and loving person. He couldn't ask for anything more.
"If you're still agreeing in trying for a baby, I am as well. We've been trying for some months..." you said in a murmur, sitting on the passenger's side comfortably, fidgeting with your fingers. Then, you felt the will to caress your belly, imagining a baby there with a half shy and half awkward smile.
Gojo noticed your subtle action, the way you instinctively caressed your belly. It seemed to trigger a feeling of warmth in him. He glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He didn't answer at first, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. The idea of having a baby with you was both exciting and a bit daunting. He was too afraid to upset you. He couldn't bear to see you heartbroken. There was a hint of nervousness in his expression, and he remained silent for a few seconds before finally responding.
"I'm still agreeing," he said softly. "Yes."
With his answer, you nodded positively. You turned your face to the car's window, observing the landscape. The air inside of the car was pleasant due to the air conditioning. You were lost observing the landscape passing by like a hurry outside the window. Your attentive eyes pictured every element, the sky with heavy clouds, the giant skyscrapers in the background, mixed with normal housing and different tourist spots in the city.
Gojo noticed your distraction, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery. He took a quick look at you and couldn't help but feel a slight pang of affection seeing you so fascinated by something as simple as the view. You were always like that.
"You seem lost in thought," he said softly, breaking the brief silence that had settled between you. "Are you okay?"
"I am." you answered with a small sigh. Briefly, you shift your gaze from the window to his side profile, smiling involuntarily.
"Life is unpredictable... yet, why is it so beautiful to live? I guess it happens when you finally find a reason to be happy." You chuckle, turning your attention back to the scenery outside.
Gojo glanced at you once more, catching your words. He smiled softly, realizing the depth behind them.
"Sometimes, the simplest things in life can be the most beautiful. I would like to have your point of view to see the world." then, he paused for a moment, his gaze flickering from the road to you and then back again to the road.
"And I think it's that sense of wonder and appreciation for life's moments that makes living worthwhile... Like talking with my sweetheart about her world perception in our way home."
"You've been loving me for too long. I'm grateful for that... You waited for me when I was away." you said as a rain droplet slid down on the window, causing you to follow it with your nostalgic gaze.
Gojo listened to your words, his heart stirring with a mix of emotions. They held the weight of their years together, the time he spent waiting for you, and the time you spent waiting for him and the love that had grown over the years.
"I wasn't just waiting, sweetheart," he replied softly, his tone gentle and sincere. "I was missing you. You were always on my mind."
He continued, his gaze flickering between the road and you briefly. "And loving you has never felt like a burden or chore. It's always been natural."
"Thank you." softly, you whispered. Letting your silent tears fall together with the rain pouring outside the car.
"I love you."
Gojo's heart ached as he saw the tears falling from your eyes. He reached over and gently wiped them away, his touch filled with tenderness and love.
"And I love you, sweetheart."
He smiled softly, his gaze tender and filled with affection. "There's no need to thank me. Loving you has always been my choice, and it will always be."
The sound of rain against the car added a melancholy yet intimate ambiance to the moment, their love being strengthened by the gentle droplets outside. Not even years of separation could weaken the feelings they both have for each other. Not even the scariest thunderstorm could make them forget the promises they made a few years ago.
As Jacques Lacan said in one of his seminars, "[...] Love demands love. It does not cease to demand it. It demands it... more... still. More, still, is the proper name of that gap from which, in the Other, the demand for love starts." Lacan, Seminar 20.
author's note: i'm a bit nervous about this. i was (still am) a whirlwind of emotions a few days ago, and i thought it was a good idea to post. it is my first time sharing a story. i felt like i needed to pour years of frustration, lost love, and loneliness on this draft. english isn't my mother language, so i'm sorry for any spelling mistakes. for those reading, thank you for your support!
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they should make an edgy controversial age gap movie with lee byung hun and cast me as the love interest im sorry
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OH MY FUCKING GOD. girl, this was sooooo good. I'm astonished, seriously. what a DAMN plot twist
POLICEMAN INSTINCT
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pairing: hwang inho x fem reader
summary: after moving into a new apartment, you realize you're being stalked. thankfully, the older neighbour you've developed a tiny crush on just so happened to be a retired police officer who is determined to protect you.
warnings: age gap (reader is early twenties, he's late forties) slow burn, strangers to lovers, dry humping, masturbation, attempted sa (not by him) really mid smut, face slapping, scent kink, oral fixation, him being fatherly, reader is a bit of a perv, stalking, yander-ish vibes, touch starved reader, masochism, fluff, angst
word count: 13.4k
[feedback and reblogs are a writer's biggest motivation.]
MASTERLIST
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it was the cheapest apartment you could find online. while it looked a little shady on the outside, the inside looked comparatively pleasant and clean. the hallway was narrow, and the shoes were placed outside the respective rooms. you just hoped you would have your privacy, and the walls aren't too thin. you've watched enough thrillers to know nothing good comes out of thin walls.
"is this all the luggage you got?" the landlady asks you, eyeing your bag and a suitcase. you hadn't packed much— you'd figured you'd just buy things from stores instead of bringing them from home. you nod, and she hums before offering you the keys.
"pay rent on time, and don't make too much noise." she tells you kindly, and you give her a polite smile. honestly speaking, she was loud enough herself.
as you fumble with the lock, she turns to leave. faint footsteps can be heard before a man appears, and the landlady steps to the side to allow him room to move.
"oh, inho!" she announces albeit too cheerily— making you almost jump. you turn around to peek over her shoulder as she continues. "you haven't paid your rent yet, just wanted to remind you."
you spot him then— the handsome older man with soft, fluffy looking hair who happened to be carrying a plastic bag with two goldfish in it. the sight makes you smile, and he clenches his jaw as he ensures the landlady that he'll pay the rent soon enough.
she nods before gesturing towards you, "and this is your new neighbour! she came here to study, isn't that nice? don't be grumpy with her like you were with your last neighbours!"
ah. a beautiful older man as your neighbour. perhaps, life is worth living.
he looks up at you, and you freeze slightly, suddenly feeling self conscious that she put you on the spot. you give him a light wave, and he nods in acknowledgement before turning back to her. the lady pats his shoulder and leaves, and you go back to fumbling with the lock. he walks slowly to his own door, before turning to you— his expression slightly blank as he says something.
his voice is so quiet that you don't hear it at first. your eyebrows rise in question and you look at him, blinking.
"push the key in a little and then twist." he repeats, showing you the gesture with his own key. you look at him, a little confused before letting out an 'oh!' and following his steps— and as expected, the door opens. you turn to him and give him a sheepish smile, "thank you."
he doesn't return the smile but nods nonetheless. he opens his own door and steps inside, and then slams the door behind him, leaving you a little baffled.
you shrug the behaviour off and carry your bag to the bed. the room is clean, but you know exactly how you're going to personalize it so it looks more like you. you got your favourite bedsheets with you and everything, and the idea of decorating gives you a light sense of excitement.
it's when you decide to go to the bathroom that you realize you haven't gotten one of the most important things needed— hand soap. you wince to yourself as you look through your luggage, finding nothing. hesitantly, you look to the door, wondering if you should go out and buy some, or borrow some from your new neighbour, who although being incredibly handsome, also intimidates you slightly. you don't want to disturb him, but it's already late enough— you are too tired to go out.
you knock on his door, biting your lower lip in anticipation. you hope he's not asleep, you'd hate to be the one who wakes him up. he opens the door soon enough, looking you up and down, "can i help you?"
"i'm sorry, i hope you weren't asleep," you give him a polite smile, "i was wondering if i could borrow some handsoap? i forgot to buy some."
he frowns before nodding, closing the door. you fidget with your fingers while you wait, and he opens the door again before handing you a bottle.
you thank him, and he closes the door before you get to say goodnight. you don't allow yourself to think he's rude— you were the one disturbing him, afterall.
the next morning, you're up early. it's a new day of your independence and you want to explore the library before attending classes. you recheck if you have everything before exiting the room— only to be met with your neighbour.
"good morning!" you greet him cheerily, and he nods and replies with a quiet 'morning, kid.'
you figure he's just woken up, judging by the light rasp in his voice. it makes you feel flustered.
"wait— sir, hold on." you say quickly, and rush back inside your apartment. you deliver his handsoap back to him, and he rubs his eyes.
"thank you for this."
"going to college?" he asks, blinking a few times, and you nod. "is it far?"
"half an hour ride from the bus stop," you shift your weight on your feet. "not that far."
"that's good," he frowns, scratching his chin, "study well, kid."
you grin at him, perking up. you introduce yourself to him, and give a light bow. the corner of his mouth curls up slightly.
"i'm inho," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, "get going now, you don't wanna be late."
"oh yes, inho sir." you bow again and quickly rush down the stairs. you're pretty sure you hear him call out something like, 'drop the sir!' but you ignore it with a smile— your day already feeling brighter with the positive interaction, even if it was just polite small talk.
no matter how exhausting classes were, you were insistent on having a pleasant day. you knew the best way to survive any place was by making friends— and for now you didn't have many options other than your older neighbour.
at the bakery, as you eyed all the delicacies— you didn't know what to choose. you didn't know his preferences. does he like sweets? but what if he has diabetes? you immediately push the thought away, and simply stick to some nice bread that you could have with tea. and then while walking back to the bus stop, you buy some fishfood. a google search also lets you know that goldfish quite like frozen peas— so you buy a little of that too.
back in the apartment, you feel a little nervous as you knock on his door. there is no response, and you almost turn around and leave before a voice coming from behind you makes you jump.
"oh my god!" you shriek, twisting around, holding a hand to your chest. inho is standing behind you, looking tired as he gestures you to lower your voice. you immediately clasp a hand over your mouth and bow in apology before straightening up.
"you scared me!"
"forgive me," he blinks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "did you need something?"
a little distracted by his face, you almost forget what you had to say. but before you could embarrass yourself further, your mind brings you back to earth, "oh! yes— sorry."
"i wasn't sure if you liked sweets so i just got you bread. you know, as a thank you for helping me last night," you awkwardly push the bag towards him, "and uh— i saw you had goldfish so i got some fishfood for them. i also read they liked peas, so."
he looks down at the bag, then at you. you swallow hard, "i didn't poison it, i swear."
that elicits a chuckle out of him, and he gently takes the bag. your fingers brush together, and you try not to chase the warmth of his hand. perhaps, you're a little touch starved.
"there was no need for this," he says kindly. you step to the side to allow him to access his door. "but thank you."
"do you wanna eat together?" you blurt without thinking. "i mean, if you're not busy. no pressure, i'm sure you have things to do but—"
"relax," he gives you a light smile— it makes the cute little crinkles by his eyes more prominent. it's contagious and you smile back. he clears his throat, "there's a park not far from here. would you like to walk with me?"
"yes!" you say a little too excitedly before lowering your voice. "yes— absolutely. hold on."
you recklessly open your door and toss your bag inside. with a glance over your shoulder to ensure he's not looking, you quickly reapply your lipgloss before turning to him and locking the door behind you.
"ready?" he asks, a hint of a smile on his face. his voice is teasing, and you can't help but grin in return.
as the sun set, pink and orange hues danced across your skin like glitter. you could see people walking, chatting; couples holding hands and feeding each other cotton candy. it made your heart pang a little, so you redirected your attention to the sky, where birds seemed to be flocking back to their homes. you would've taken a picture, but you decided against it.
"have you been here long?" inho asks, and you turn to see his eyes looking at you intently. "liking it so far?"
"just a few months," you answer politely, walking with a skip in your step. he doesn't realize how grateful you are that he's talking to you— you've felt rather lonely these past few weeks. "i got a scholarship and the opportunity was too good to miss. it's really nice, much better than my hometown, i'd say. i'm relieved to be here, even though it's taking some time to adjust."
"you can come to me if you need anything," he says softly, and you give him a grateful nod, gaze full of barely disguised admiration.
"thank you, i appreciate it."
"and your family?" he asks again, his hands clasped behind his back. he looks so authoritative this way, you think, he's actually adorable. and kind.
"they're back home," you twist around and walk backwards, facing him as you mimic his stance. hands behind your back. he smiles at your antics and it makes your heart skip a beat. "i talk to them regularly."
"that's good." he hums, nodding, a glint in his eyes. "kids don't realize how much parents worry. make sure you don't mix with the wrong crowd."
"noted, sir." you tease, and he snorts.
"drop the 'sir,' will ya?"
"only if you drop the 'kid,' sir."
that makes him laugh, and you feel a strange sense of pride at your little achievement. the park is pleasant, and you're more amazed by how well maintained it is. he mindlessly guides you to a bench with a light touch on your waist, and your stomach feels tingly at the action.
he brings out the bag, tears the bread in half and gives you the bigger one, despite your protests.
"those flowers are so pretty," you point towards a flower bed, and he hums nonchalantly.
"never met a girl who doesn't like flowers."
"what's not to like?" you shift to face him properly, "they maintain this park really well. it's very clean."
"i suppose we do value cleanliness a lot," he looks around, his cheeks puffing up like a squirrel as he eats. it looks so utterly cute, you would have cooed if you had no social cues. "i remember seeing them plant those last year. some kids accidentally skated over the left side and had to pay a fine."
"ouch," you wince, eyebrows furrowing. "say, sir, what do you do for work, if you don't mind me asking?"
he stiffens slightly and stops chewing. you contemplate killing yourself right there out of sheer dramatics— you don't want to make him uncomfortable because this is your only chance at developing a relationship with someone that is not your pillow or your phone.
"i was a police officer," he answers, swallowing his food. he claps the dust off, wipes his hand on his pants after, "retired."
"retired?!" you gasp unintentionally, "you don't look that old."
he throws his head back and laughs— his eyes crinkling. you're mesmerized, the mere sound of it making your heart feel warm. which, you think, is not normal. not after interacting with someone who is still a stranger.
"how old do you think i am?" he asks between chuckles.
you give him a sheepish smile, delaying your response by choosing to finish the bread first. "i'd say.. late thirties or early forties."
he winces with a groan, dramatically clutching his heart, "try late forties. almost fifty."
it makes you fucking giggle— like some lovesick fool. a schoolgirl with a crush. it's so embarrassing, but you decide to let yourself have this one thing— to enjoy a conversation without thinking about how stupid or obvious you might look to the outsider.
"you don't look that old!" you protest, "seriously! plus, you're pretty fit for your age!"
the last comment was not something you had decided to say, but you're bad at thinking before speaking. you prefer to be just as shocked at your responses as the other person.
"you think i'm fit?" he asks a little teasingly— there's a smug smile on his face, and you feel idiotic. of course, a man like him would know he's fit. he's handsome, he must hear it everyday. he must be so amused that you decided to state the obvious. and you clear your throat, your cheeks suddenly feeling hot. you're sure you can hear your ears ringing— and you swallow the embarrassment.
"you know you're fit." you huff softly, and he shakes his head. his smile only grows bigger as he looks away, instead choosing to watch the sky darken.
you're glad he doesn't say much after, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. you hope it is comfortable for him, atleast, because there's a storm brewing in your head— berating you for being so obvious. perhaps, you need to find a boyfriend soon, or your little impulsive comments would get you in trouble. you don't even know if the man is single, for god's sake. your eyes drift down to his hands— no ring.
"you live alone?" you blurt out again, despite your better judgement. it's such a stupid question— the apartment rooms are tiny, of course he lives alone. are you stupid?!
he turns to look at you, eyebrow quirked. the air feels heavy now, because he looks tense again, almost thoughtful.
"yes," he nods, frowning slightly. his lips quirk down, and he swallows hard. "my wife passed away a few years back."
"oh." shit, you think to yourself. way to go, idiot. "i'm so sorry."
"it's fine," he gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
you straighten up, "if there's anything i can do—"
he stands up abruptly, adjusts his pants. your eyes drift down a little before you physically force them to look up at him again.
"we should get going." he says, rolling his shoulders back. he gives you a hand, "it's getting late. you must have class tomorrow."
'it's sunday,' you almost mumble, but thankfully your mouth keeps shut this time. you shyly take his palm and stand up, and he pulls his hand back to run it through his hair almost awkwardly. you try not to miss the way it felt— which is insane. you shouldn't be thinking this way.
the walk back is relatively silent, and you internally beat yourself up about ruining the mood. you might be overthinking this, but this man genuinely seems nice, and you don't really have anyone else to rely on outside of university.
'if there's anything i can do,' you were saying. what could you have done, you idiot? what were you offering to a widowed man twice your age? fucking dummy.
lost in thoughts as you walk up the stairs, your foot misses a step and you trip. before you can fall, inho is stabilizing you with a swift grab, and you yelp as you crash into him, squeezing your eyes shut. instinctively, you grab his arms as tightly as you can.
"oh god," you take a sharp breath, your head falling forward onto his chest more out of shame than relief. "am i dead?"
"clumsy girl." he chuckles, and you open your eyes, hoping that once you do you'll wake up to your room; concluding this mess as a nightmare.
but no, your vision adjusts and is met with his beautiful face. and he looks amused. you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist— very respectfully even though you wouldn't mind it the opposite way. you feel warm all over and the way you've been acting since you met this man is driving you crazy. perhaps you might have to sleep the bad luck off. he gently lets go of you, and you pull away quickly, cheeks flushed. you lean against the wall, groaning.
"still alive," he remarks playfully. you tiredly run a hand down your face.
"i'll just take a nap." you mumble defeatedly, and he nods. you gesture towards the stairs. "thanks for that."
he steps aside and puts his hands in his pockets, and you fumble with your lock and go into your room as fast as possible— ready to bury your head in pillows and avoid this man as much as possible.
ᥫ᭡.
the first weird instance happened during work. you'd signed up for an internship after college hours— it was more of volunteer work. no actual pay other than some incentives based upon performance, which you were okay with. you just needed some experience for your portfolio. most of it included you getting your seniors coffee, designing posters and promoting new events for college.
you were giving some finishing touch ups for the newest poster for a debate competition when a package was placed before you. you looked up at your classmate, confused.
"these are for you." she said.
you frowned, looking at the package — a bouquet, to be specific. it was nothing too extravagant— but flowers all the same. white jasmines paired with some baby breaths, finished with a little bow.
"who sent these?" you asked, visibly baffled. she shrugged, took one look at your work before walking off. you sat straighter, checking the bouquet for any card— there was nothing.
you were confused as you walked back to the apartment. the flowers were a nice surprise— but they also had you worried. you couldn't help but wonder if it was some guy from work, but you don't remember getting close with anyone, atleast not enough for gifts. your confusion was evident on your face as you reached your door. holding the bouquet in one hand, you fumbled with the lock.
"those are nice," you heard a voice behind you. you turned, a smile appearing on your face at the sight of inho.
"hello!" you greeted, facing him. he glanced at the flowers, gaze unreadable, before turning to you.
"you came later than usual." he remarked casually.
"yeah, i've taken up this internship thing for college." you replied politely, leaning against your door. he nodded in understanding, tilting his head towards the bouquet.
"it's going well, i see."
you chuckled awkwardly, "i don't know where they came from." you glanced at the flowers, leaning in to inhale the scent. "my classmate said these were for me but there was no card. it's weird."
"perhaps it's a secret admirer," he joked dryly, unlocking his own door, "stay safe, kid."
you frowned at his words, nodding, before entering your own room.
the flowers didn't stop after. almost every two days, a new bouquet would appear. it was ridiculous. one day it would be just pretty tulips, the other it would be white clovers. it was driving you absolutely insane. and the worst part was, you had no idea who it was from.
you'd go to class, do your work, take the flowers, and go home. inho would make a joke about you being popular, and you would shrug it off and offer him some tea, and you'd pretend you didn't secretly hope he was the one sending them to you.
"maybe a guy has a crush on you," he'd said once. you were sitting at the stairs, analyzing the flowers as if your stare would prompt them to magically start speaking— these were camellias, as the google search suggested. pink. you'd glared at him tiredly, eyes begging for some answers. from anyone.
he'd raised his hands in defence, chuckling a little. he had taken a seat on the stairs beside you, looking at the flowers himself, eyebrows furrowed in focus and lips drawn into a thoughtful pout.
"did you know camellias express longing?" he stated casually.
you'd looked at him, quirking an eyebrow, "how'd you know that?"
he gave the flowers a somber smile, a dejected look in his eyes. "you learn certain things when you get married."
your curiosity had faded into sadness then. immense melancholy for the kind man sitting beside you.
and because of course, he was thinking of his wife. he'd probably given his wife flowers, adored her with everything he had. kissed her and made love to her, and then life took her from him.
you don't stand a chance. not even in your fantasies.
ᥫ᭡.
you were being watched.
you realized this not long after receiving your first bouquet. few days later, you'd seen a man wearing the same jacket everywhere you went. it was making you feel uneasy. you could never see his face— he would disappear almost instantly after you turned around.
first, you recognised the feeling while shopping for groceries. it made you feel so terrified, you ditched the milk and went straight home.
you'd had to borrow some milk from inho that day, and thankfully he had extra which he generously gave to you. even offered to make you some tea. you didn't know if he noticed your distress, but if he did, you were thankful he didn't ask you about it.
the next, it was during daytime. you were waiting for your bus when you saw the glimpse of that jacket— and once again, it disappeared almost as soon as you recognised it.
it was after the fourth day that you had decided that you'd had enough. you were violently knocking on inho's door— teary eyed and scared out of your mind.
he opened the door, his agitation blending into worry at the sight of your face. he utters your name so softly, and you hold back the urge to scream. "what's wrong?"
"you were a police officer, right?" you look at him, panic stricken. "i think i'm being watched. i don't think— i know i'm being watched. i swear, someone is stalking me, first the flowers—"
"hold on, take deep breaths," he puts his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to breathe along with him. you follow, and feel your heart rate calm down. he looks out into the hallway before stepping aside. "come inside."
reluctantly, you walk into his room. you realize then that it's the first time you've been in his apartment— and the idea, even in your moment of suffering, makes you feel warm. excited, even. there's a few books on his bed, and he puts them aside on his table and makes room for you to sit. you can see the goldfish in the tank, and the packet of fish food you bought for them sits by it.
"i like van gogh too." you mumble shakily, pointing at the book on his desk. he hums, guiding you to sit.
you take a seat on his bed, gaze lowered as you fidget with your hands. he grabs a chair and sits on it, facing you. he spreads his legs, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on the actual problem at hand.
"tell me everything," he says softly, crossing his arms over his chest. his shirt is folded up to his elbows, and you physically force yourself not to stare at the veins mapped across his arms.
"the flowers," you start, "they've gotten more frequent. i don't know who's sending them to me. i've asked everyone at work. i don't even talk to guys that much for any of them to be doing all that. and i've been seeing this guy follow me everywhere—"
"you've seen his face?" he asks, expression serious and focused. he looks even more handsome like this.
you pause, before shaking your head no.
"it's stupid, i know." you protest, leaning forward for emphasis, "it's like— a shadow. i haven't seen his face but i know he's following me. i think he might be behind the flowers too. but i'm just scared— i know i'm being stalked, you have to believe me."
"i do believe you," he shakes his head, leaning forward. his hand reaches out and grabs your own, "but you haven't seen his face, so it'll be hard to catch him. but trust me, i will not let anyone hurt you. do you understand?"
"i'm scared." you admit, voice small. you're a woman and you live alone— you don't have many friends and absolutely no family right now. you don't want to talk to your mother and worry her. you're terrified.
"hey, no tears," he whispers, thumb brushing across your cheek. you almost feel hypnotized at the action— you try not to lean into the comfort of his touch. "you'll be okay, i promise. you're safe with me."
you sniffle as you look at him, your hand limp in his hold. you tear your gaze away and nod, his words making you feel oddly at ease. you fidget with his hand before mindlessly holding his finger, and he smiles softly at that. with his free hand, he pats your head, "i have an idea."
you perk up slightly as you blink at him.
"why don't i pick you up from college?" he says softly, "it's not that far. it's hard to do anything during daytime, but in the evening i can come pick you up if you're scared. he'll see a man with you and back off himself."
you freeze, eyes widening. you can't ask him to do that. you chuckle awkwardly, face flushing as you look at your lap.
"i can't ask you to do that, it's fine."
"are you sure?" he asks, leaning down to make eye contact with you. it makes your heart flutter. "it's no issue for me. i think a walk everyday will keep me even more fit."
you can't help but giggle at that— and he smiles too. he grabs your chin and lifts your head up; and your breath hitches.
"come on, give me a real smile." he urges softly. it's so silly coming from him, that you can't help but grin— your fears temporarily forgotten. he pinches your cheek at that and nods in approval, "there she is."
"stop," you huff half heartedly, playfully slapping his hand away. you wish you could hide in your pillows— or dig a hole for yourself because of how flustered you feel. you can't believe how he could do this to you— it's strange how happy he can make you with just a few words. he tucks your hair behind your ear.
"why don't you have dinner and get some sleep? you must be tired."
you nod, blinking tiredly as you stand up. reluctantly, you let go of his finger, and he stands up as well as he guides you to the door. you look back at him, and he meets your gaze.
"thank you," you whisper softly, "you really made me feel so much better, you have no idea."
"i'm glad." he whispers back, and you just stare at him— at his sweet face and his kind eyes. you swallow hard, and you wonder if you hallucinated his eyes dart to your lips. either way, you push your thoughts aside.
he clears his throat and looks away, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. "off you go."
"goodnight," you call back, and he nods with a smile before closing the door.
the next day after college— a miracle happened. a rather good looking classmate of yours approached you and praised you on your work. je-hyun, he introduced himself. he shared a few classes with you, and you remember him asking you for a pencil once. you two ended up bonding over liking the same shows, and he'd asked you if you were single. you two shared numbers, and you gave yourself an imaginary pat on the back.
apparently, the flowers had become a bit of a man repellent. he'd been wary of approaching you because he assumed you had a boyfriend, but you cleared the misunderstanding with a convincing explanation. you didn't want to take any chances.
this time, there were no flowers.
after work, the two of you walk out of the building. he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm, and you turn to him. he opens his mouth to speak before his gaze falls on something over your shoulder, and he freezes.
you frown, looking over your shoulder in return.
inho greets you, getting off the wall he was leaning against with a cheery smile. you look at him, baffled.
"hey! uh—" you look at your— date? coworker? before turning to inho, "inho sir! what are you doing here?"
inho glances at je-hyun as well, eyes darting up and down indifferently before he turns to you. he smiles, patting your shoulder. "i had some work nearby so i thought i'd pick you up. especially seeing how scared you were last night. is that okay?"
he was so considerate— it immediately made your heart melt. you almost forgot about your date by your side, and you turned to him apologetically. you could always meet with je-hyun, but you cannot ask inho to go home after he took some time out for you. your decision is immediate. "i'm sorry, i should get going. see you tomorrow?"
je-hyun gave you a tight lipped smile, nodding. "see you, goodnight." he looked at inho warily, giving him a slight bow out of respect. you didn't get to see inho's response before he was wrapping an arm around your shoulder and dragging you away.
"i'm assuming that's the flower kid," he remarked casually, a small grin on his face as he walked straight ahead. you stumbled a little with his pace, but shook your head.
"no, i don't think that's him. he assumed i had a boyfriend because of the flowers," you smile slightly, thinking back to the conversation.
"you can't be sure with boys like him," he muttered, putting his hands in his pockets. you immediately started missing the feeling of his arm wrapped around you. you feel insane for even thinking this way. especially considering you have a potential? love interest— someone your age.
"i can't believe you really came to pick me up," you change the topic, looking up at him. he doesn't know if the stars in your eyes are a reflection of the lights or your admiration. "you didn't have to."
"i know i didn't have to," he smirked slightly, looking around. "but like i said, i was in the area. and i didn't feel right leaving you by yourself. who knows what could happen to a little girl like you?"
the last line was teasing, and you gave him a little push for that. of course, he was unphased. but for the sheer dramatics, he pretended to be hurt— clutching his side and groaning like he had been shot. it makes you giggle, and you hide your mouth behind your hand, internally berating yourself for acting like a fool again. he chuckles before stopping you and dragging you back, "let's have dinner before we get back. you must be hungry."
you blink, your heartbeat suddenly rising. like a date? you wanted to ask, but decided against it. of course it's not a date. he could be your father, for god's sake. he's old enough. and his heart belongs to someone else. you doubt he'd ever think about dating someone like you. it sounds like a far fetched dream.
you nodded, shaking your thoughts off. "yeah, that sounds good."
and that entire night, you didn't feel the eyes of the stalker, nor the fear, even once.
ᥫ᭡.
you got the flowers again. yellow hyacinths paired with deep red roses— the colors creating a striking contrast against each other. so bright, it almost blinded your eyes. salient as the emotions the flowers represent— you feel like whoever is sending you these, is not happy with you.
"who keeps sending these?" the voice makes you jump, and you turn to see je-hyun standing over you. he narrows his eyes playfully. "is there an obsessed ex i should be worried about?"
you wave his concerns off, chuckling awkwardly, "none." you bite your lower lip, looking at the object of your torment placed on the table. you bite down on the end of your pen, thinking. "i'm actually worried. i haven't even met anyone who would do this."
"what about that strange man who came to pick you up?" he remarks offhandedly— and you almost take offense to his words.
"that's inho-sir. and he's not strange," you say a little too sharply, surprising even yourself, "he's my neighbour and he used to be a police officer. he came to pick me up because i was scared. he's very kind and would never do something like this."
"got it." je-hyun could sense your sudden hostility, and he tries to lighten up. "so he's like your dad?" he jokes, and you chuckle at that, giving him a shove with a huffed 'shut up.'
he asks you out to a party after, and you tell him to pick you up at nine.
the journey back home was tantalizing once again— there was a seed of dread brewing inside you. you felt increasingly scared as you travelled, so you picked crowds in hopes of blending in. you wished you had inho with you right now.
you took a nap after work and immediately got ready. you didn't have a lot of party wear with you, you don't like the overwhelming crowds or noises. you're easy to overstimulate, so you tend to stay away from parties. they're always much more bearable with people you know better, anyway. but you make do with what you have, and your lip gloss saves the day as always. there's a knock on your door and you open it to je-hyun looking cute as ever— with his boyish, dimpled smile.
"i wanted to bring you flowers," he says innocently, holding out a box, "but i feel like you're traumatized by them so i got chocolate inst—"
he doesn't get to finish his sentence before you're letting out the most ridiculous laugh ever. he's adorable, and this alone has made you like him so much. you compose yourself, stand straighter and place a kiss upon his cheek— leaving an imprint of your lipgloss on his skin. he blushes, and you grin. "thank you—"
"date night?"
you both turn around to the voice— inho has stepped out of his room, looking cozy and fresh. wearing a sweater vest over a crisp white shirt, finishing with a large black coat. he looks so... soft and gentle. it almost distracts you.
you bite your lower lip, suddenly feeling flustered. his gaze is unreadable as it drags down your body— and out of respect, you adjust your dress a little.
"i'm je-hyun," your date takes the initiative to introduce himself, bowing deeply. there's slight humour in his voice, "you must be her father—"
you elbow him in the ribs, and he doubles over. inho lets out a snort, looking down. you notice he doesn't introduce himself in return. he clenches his jaw, tongues his cheek before looking at you with a glint in his eyes. you wonder if he looks angry, but you can't really tell. it wouldn't make sense anyway.
"going somewhere?" you ask, voice a little high pitched out of sheer nervousness. you don't know why, but you feel rather awkward. you don't understand why you feel like you're betraying him, in a way. perhaps it's because inho has quite literally been the only man you've been regularly interacting and engaging with so far. that's why standing with another guy in front of him feels so... strange. no other reason.
he clears his throat and nods, "out for drinks with an old colleague." he frowns after, cocks his head towards your legs. your dress is not really short, it comes to your knees. but you still feel exposed in front of him.
"don't you feel cold?"
"i'll wear a coat," you tell him, snatching your coat off from where it was hanging behind your door. "well— um. see you."
inho is the first to leave— after giving your date an up and down look of what you can only consider disgust or disapproval. je-hyun pouts a little as he straightens up, before grabbing your hand and dragging you down the stairs.
the party fucking sucks. the noises are too loud, the lights are too flashy, and everyone is drunk. you don't understand their drunken rambles, and you almost tripped twice. you've stumbled into atleast three couples making out, and you don't know how to dance without looking stupid.
je-hyun had kissed your cheek before going off to get drinks. a sprite for you, as you'd demanded. except he never returned. you know life isn't a movie, but at this moment, you'd rate yours a solid 1.5 stars.
a girl accidentally steps on your foot and you wince, hopping on one leg as you go out the back door. there, you put on your coat tighter around yourself, shaking as you glare at the wall in front of you.
you could really use a cigarette. and you don't even smoke.
you bring out your phone and shoot je-hyun a text. it is left on delivered, and you grunt in irritation before looking to the side.
defeated, angry and hurt at being abandoned, you immediately choose to leave. you hold back the urge to send je-hyun a text calling him an absolute dick, and try not to make eye contact with anyone as you walk down the road. it's late, the sky is dark and you have another fear on your mind right now. you look out for a taxi— but none come to your rescue. your luck has run out.
you mutter all sorts of curses to yourself on the way back— until you hear footsteps. you pause, suddenly feeling that same dread seize you again.
you're being followed.
you start walking quickly, and the prickling sensation of being watched doesn't leave. you turn around abruptly — and there's no one there, except from a few friend groups walking out of the club. you pick up your pace and start jogging back, looking around for taxis. you can see the park near your apartment in the distance — and you let out a breath of relief.
you hear a little 'meow,' and you immediately turn around. you love cats— you've been dying to have one. despite your better judgement, you walk closer to the dark alley the voice came from. a kitten is there, meowing at you. your heart melts into a puddle and you coo, instantly following it. you look around, there's no stores nearby, or you would've bought it some food. you gently pick it up, scratching it's ears.
"its my cat."
there's a shabby man standing in front of you— reeking of alcohol and trash. you freeze, looking at him awkwardly as you let go of the cat. his eyes trail down, settle on the silver of your skin peeking out from under the coat. instinctively, you wrap it tighter around yourself, and he steps forward, grinning.
"i have more! do you want to see?"
you give him an awkward, polite smile. in situations like these, its best to subtly pull yourself away. you take a step back and shake your head, "no, thank you."
"it won't take long," he convinces, a hand reaching out. "you could even take one with you—"
you're turning around to run, but his hand grabs your arm and drags you closer. you scream, but he shushes you, pinning you to the wall. you feel like throwing up. you raise your knee and kick him in the shin, and he lets go of you. you quickly start dashing off, but your heel oh so conveniently breaks and you trip. you fall face first onto the floor and his hand grabs your leg and starts dragging down.
you let out a shriek and kick at his arm, but he's lunging at you, trying to grab your face with his dirty hands. you take that moment to release your frustrations of the day upon him— with all the strength you can muster, you pull your head back before crashing it against his face.
"you bitch!" he screams and so do you— and he falls back, clutching his bleeding nose. he tries to lunge at you again, but you scream as loud as you can, trying to crawl away from him.
someone grabs you and starts pulling you up, and out of reflex you thrash and try to hit the other person. your wrist is clasped firmly in a bigger hand, and the sight of inho's face immediately fills you with relief. he helps you up, and before you can express gratitude, he's pushing you back and moving forward.
you flinch at the sound of the first kick. it happens so fast that you don't even realize it— your eyes widen as inho kicks the man over and over again. the sound of his bones cracking fills your ears, and you almost gag at the sight of the blood mixing with the dirty ground. inho looks unphased for the most part— except he's panting, and his hair is falling across his forehead. sweat runs down the side of his face, and he wordlessly turns around, eyes cold in a way that is foreign to you.
perhaps it's the shock of the sudden turn of events, but you can't speak. all you can think about is the rage that is so prominently etched onto his beautiful face, and how easily he stomped on that man like he was nothing. and how thankful you are that he showed up somehow when you needed him. after your date abandoned you. like magic.
he walks up to you, and you let out a shaky breath before allowing your head to fall onto his chest. he squeezes his eyes shut and pats your back, before cupping your cheeks and lifting your head up. he analyzes your face, gently caresses the new scratches on your chin before his gaze drops to your shoes— a broken heel and multiple scratches on your knees.
"are you okay?" he asks softly, and you hold his palm, ensuring it stays pressed against your cheek. you look at him like he's your only saviour— and you feel that way too. your lips wobble and he looks away.
"tired." you mumble— throat feeling dry. you feel dizzy, and your legs hurt. you're pretty sure you feel like throwing up too.
wordlessly, he bends down slightly, gestures towards his back with a tilt of his head. "come on."
you hesitate, looking at him with shock, before gently allowing your front to splay across his back. you link your arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his hands around your legs. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you lean your weight into him, resting your head along his shoulder. he shifts slightly so you're more comfortable, his hold on you steady and confident. one of your shoes drop, and you don't look back at it. you don't care anyway.
you hear another faint meow before the kitten is out of earshot.
you resist the urge to cry as he carries you up the stairs. you sniffle, burying your head in his back, deeply inhaling the comforting smell of the man you've started associating with home. your legs dangle off his sides and your heart feels heavy. his silence makes you feel so eternally grateful.
you don't know how you got lucky enough to have someone like him by your side.
he doesn't even put you down when you reach your apartment— merely mumbles a soft, "keys?" and you straighten up slightly, shuffling in your coat pocket before leaning forward to open the lock— unable to resist the urge to chuckle just slightly at how endearing this whole situation is, despite everything.
he takes you inside, and your cheeks flush slightly. your clothes are all over the bed— thanks to your indecisiveness while getting ready for the date. he gently places you down on the floor, and you sniffle, quickly covering the clothes with a blanket— eliciting a snort out of him.
"why were you coming home alone?" is the first question he asks. "what happened to the kid you were with?"
"I don't know," you whisper, looking away. you suddenly feel embarrassed— how immature, how careless je-hyun looks in front of a man like inho. you never should've went on that date. "he just.. he disappeared at the party."
he clenches his jaw, his hands resting on his hips as he looks to the side. there's another vein popping in his neck— and if you had the guts, you'd lean up and kiss it.
"that little boy—" he spits with vitriol, the words coming from a deep place of resentment. he takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself, "he never should've left you alone. you should've never decided to walk home alone. why didn't you take a taxi?"
you swallow hard— he certainly doesn't make you miss your father. he's doing his job for him.
"there were no taxis."
"why didn't you just call me?" he asked again, stepping forward, eyebrows raising. "i could've come picked you up."
you pause. you didn't know that was an option. you really didn't think of it.
"I don't know." you replied lamely.
"didn't you say you have a stalker?" he snaps, "how can you be so careless?"
"i really don't want a lecture right now," you reply dejectedly, looking away. your voice lowers to a mumble as you rub your arm. "tonight has been harsh enough."
his face softens and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling, squeezes his eyes shut before looking at you again.
"forgive me." he says earnestly, tilting his head, "i worry about you."
you nod, fidgeting with your coat. he watches you silently before stepping back.
"you should take a warm shower. i'll grab the first aid and take care of that." he gestures towards his chin, and the sting on your own chin starts to settle in.
this time, you don't argue. you toss your coat to the side, grab your toiletries, don't even bother asking him to leave before you go into the bathroom and wipe the memories of this night off you.
inho is waiting on your bed when you return. you hope he didn't hear the sound of you crying— it was rather pathetic. your skin is flushed with how much you scratched it, and worst of all, you ended up gently banging your forehead against the cold wall over how badly your date went. your fault for thinking you could have a positive experience with a man.
you clutch your bathrobe tightly, the water from your hair soaking through the towel. you put it down, and he gets up from the bed and pats down the empty space, telling you to sit down.
you notice your bed looks a little neater than you left it. your clothes are folded nicely by the corner and your bedsheet is straightened properly. it makes you blush, and you give him a sheepish look. he doesn't acknowledge it as he kneels before you.
"you don't have to—" you start, half heartedly.
"let me."
his voice is soft yet so firm, you end up following through. there is nothing wrong with wanting to be taken care of by a man like him. you shift slightly, hoping that he takes the flush of your cheeks as an effect of your warm shower.
he settles your leg on his thigh, and shifts your bathrobe just slightly so your knee is exposed. he examines it before applying some ointment on it. the touch of his gentle fingers almost has you whimpering— but you clear your throat and fidget nervously with your fingers. he grabs hold of your ankle, looking thoughtful as his thumb brushes across your skin.
the silence between you two feels heavy and suffocating. the tension could be cut with a knife— and the way he touches you is so intimate, it makes you want to climb into his arms and just cling to him till you fall asleep.
thankfully, he makes the decision for you. he places your feet back down and straightens slightly, wordlessly applies some cream on your chin too. it stings a little but it's bearable. he hums, closes the box and puts it aside.
as you open your mouth to speak, you can hear multiple notifications coming through your phone. his eyes snap up, and so do yours— you reach out and grab it out of your coat pocket, and he glares at it as you check.
"is it the boy?" he asks.
you bite your lip, glancing at the multiple texts of je-hyun apologizing through the notification panel. you're bitter, and you don't want to respond, not right now. inho grabs your hand, takes your phone away and places it by your side.
"you shouldn't go back to him," he advices quietly. there's an intensity in his eyes, an emotion that is hard to read. "after tonight, he's proven he's not worth your time. he abandoned you."
you bite your lower lip. he's right— but then again, a part of you wants to ask. so who should i go to? who is worth my time?
you clear your throat and shift on the bed.
"thank you for tonight," you whisper instead, allowing yourself more time to think about how to deal with je-hyun.
"thank you?" he chuckles, amused, "you'd taken care of that guy pretty well yourself. i just finished the job."
"but still," you protest, feeling a sense of pride at his comment. "he would've grabbed me again if you hadn't come."
he snorts, looking down at his lap. and your words remind you of an important question.
"how'd you know i needed help?"
he tenses, his eyes snapping up to yours again. you can't tell what he's thinking, but he merely chuckles, "i was walking in the park when you screamed. immediately alerted me." he raises a finger to his ear. "policeman instinct."
you laugh at that. his explanation makes sense. of course he has a policeman instinct. you wouldn't expect anything else.
he stands up, groaning as he stretches a little. the action makes his sweater rise up, revealing a silver of his tummy— and your eyes dazedly drop down, glancing at it with barely disguised hunger, until he's relaxing again. you snap yourself out of your trance and cough, looking away.
he looks down at you, all tired eyes and soft hair. in moments like these, you think of how sweet he looks. so gentle, and kind, and caring. sweet mister inho, who has been so generous, protecting you, caring for you, wanting nothing in return. who gave you a piggyback ride home when you felt like you would pass out from terror, who put cream on your wounds with the tenderness of a parent or a lover.
perhaps it's that sentiment, your touch starved nature, or your horrible day that prompted you to do it. or lust from that little glimpse of his skin. either way, you're fucked. you lean forward and wrap your arms around his waist, immediately burying your head in his stomach as you whisper thank yous to him— clinging to him like a lifeline.
he stumbles back in shock, stiffens slightly before relaxing— awkwardly shifting to accommodate you. he laughs slightly, and the rumble sends happy vibrations through your whole body. his hand settles on your head, gently playing with your hair.
"i told ya," he said gently, an amused smile on his face. "i won't let anyone hurt you."
a little embarrassed, you let go of him, pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ear.
"sorry," you mumble sheepishly.
"it's fine," he nods, taking a deep breath. he adjusts his sweater, looks around before giving you another smile. he pats your head. "get some sleep, okay? it's late. i'll check on you tomorrow."
you nod, and he leaves. you bite your lower lip as you replay the hug, and don't find the effort to get up and dress yourself before you're squealing into your pillow— all thoughts of je-hyun forgotten temporarily.
you don't see je-hyun in classes the next day, but he comes to work after college. the first thing he does is approach you, even when you push your head into your tablet while trying to imply how you absolutely do not want to talk to him.
"i can explain," he says with worry, "someone drugged me. i didn't want to leave you alone. i swear, i woke up in the toilet hours after. first thing i did was text you."
you sigh, rolling your eyes as you looked at him boredly, "drugged? that's the excuse you're going with?"
"why would i ditch you on purpose!" he hisses, leaning down. your argument gathers the attention of a few of your coworkers, and your senior warns you to get back to work. you sigh and look away from him.
"whatever it is—" you begin as politely as you can, "I don't think i'm ready to date. so maybe you should just—"
he sighs your name in agitation, and you quirk your eyebrow at him.
"you're really giving up on me after one fuck up?" he asks, frowning, "which wasn't even my fault? i was drugged—"
"i almost got assaulted on the way back," you hiss, standing up abruptly. your noses press together, and you pull back the moment his eyes drift to your lips. you pinch the bridge of your nose, before tilting your chin up and pointing at the bandage. he blinks, gaze filled with guilt. you sigh.
"maybe we could give it a go after some time if you're still interested, but i don't think i have the patience for this right now. last night was really hard on me. can you respect that?"
he looks like a kicked puppy at your words, but he steps back nonetheless. he clenches his jaw as he nods— before leaving you alone for the rest of the day.
the feeling of being watched has numbed you. you try not to care on your way back home— you have too much to do to care about that anyway. your dress from last night and your coat got dirty, so it seems like the perfect time to have a laundry day.
it's only when you're gathering all your clothes that you realize what's wrong.
your clothes are missing.
a pair of panties and your favourite camisole top. it's pink and has a little bow in the middle and you remember bringing it very clearly because you have taken a billion pictures in it. you wore them two days back— and tossed them carelessly in the laundry basket. you check once, and twice.
they're missing.
your first thought immediately goes to the stalker. is there any way he found your home? came into your room? stole your undergarments like a fucking sicko?
your second thought feels a little.. illegal to say the least. but.. inho wouldn't do something like that, would he? no, he's a good guy. a kind, rule following member of society. he used to be a police officer, for fuck's sake. he wouldn't do something like that, would he?
you can't lie, the idea that he could makes something in your stomach flip.
you can't go and straight up ask him, 'hey mister, did you take my panties?' so you do the next best thing. you devise a plan to be alone in his room.
you put on your best panic stricken expression as you knock on his door, and he opens almost immediately. his face falls into one of concern as he looks you up and down, "what's wrong—"
"i need pads," you say sheepishly, biting your lower lip as you step into his room. he doesn't protest as he looks at you. "i got my period and i don't have any and it hurts to go to the store. inho sir, could you please go buy me some? please?"
for added effect you let out a groan, holding your stomach as you fall onto his bed. you lie in a fetus position, and the worry etched onto his face almost makes you laugh.
"do you need anything else?" he asks, grabbing his wallet. you shake your head no, release another groan before he's slamming the door behind him as he leaves.
you wait for a few minutes— until you can hear the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs and fading away. you get up quickly then, look around his room with your heart pounding against your chest.
the first place you look is his cupboards— only his clothes to be found. you rip off his blanket and look under the pillows, searching desperately. you almost feel bad— he seems like such a good man, and you're taking advantage of his kindness by doubting him like this. you almost stop and leave, before the sight of his laundry basket has you pausing.
you look at the door before turning back and approaching it. you sit on the floor and shuffle through it, but you can't find a glimpse of your undergarments anywhere. you can find his though— and it makes you blush slightly.
you find his shirt then— white and plain and you remember him wearing it under his sweater last night. with shaky hands, you bring it out. biting your lower lip, against your morals, you clutch it and bring it up to your nose, inhaling the scent of his collar. it smells of him— of sweat and his cologne and it almost makes you moan.
like the fucking sicko you were worried about, you bury your face in it, your legs shaking as you lean further into it. another whimper escapes you. your eyes squeeze shut, and your mind starts flashing images of him, of his arms, of the vein in his neck, of his hair, of his smile—
it's been established already that your luck is horrible. that's why you don't realize it when the door opens and inho stands there, frozen, watching you sniff his clothes like a junkie. he drops the bag, and you freeze, your eyes immediately snapping open.
the way dread settles in your stomach is comical. you don't want to turn around, more so because it would mean acknowledging what you've been doing. he takes your name, and you turn ever so slowly, his shirt still clutched in your hands, pressed against your nose. as reality sets in, you're quickly tossing it back in the laundry basket and standing up like you've been electrocuted.
"i-it's not what it looks like—"
he doesn't say a word as he slams the door shut, very pointedly locking it. it sends a shiver of thrill up your spine, and he closes in on you ever so slowly as you try to explain yourself.
"i was just—" you're stuttering, voice breathless out of shame. you take a step back. "i was looking for something and i thought you had it and—"
he's just nodding patiently as you speak, eyebrows furrowed with mock sympathy. his hand suddenly shoots up to grab your neck, and your breath hitches as he pushes you against the wall.
"i thought you took my panties," you explain quickly, visibly panicking. "i couldn't find them and you were the only one who came into my room—"
"that's why you were sniffing my shirt like a little pervert?" he asks calmly, voice hushed, his mouth curling into an amused smirk. "because you couldn't find your panties?"
"sir—" you gasp, eyes fluttering as his hand squeezes slightly. your legs tremble, and you grab his wrist. "i didn't mean to—"
"dirty girl," he chuckles. before you can speak further, he's grabbing your waist, twirling you around and shoving you onto his bed. you fall upon it with a surprised gasp, and he climbs onto you effortlessly, caging you between his arms. "you think i don't understand the way you look at me with those pretty little eyes? like you're begging me to fuck you into the mattress?"
"oh fuck," you moan, your back arching off the bed. his mere voice has you feeling stupid. your lips wobble as you look at him pleadingly— licking your lips. "please—"
"yeah— like this," he chuckles, giving your cheek a little slap. it barely registers. doesn't hurt at all, feels like a little tap. but the action enough elicits the most desperate moan out of you, and he squeezes your cheeks, leaning down dangerously. "like a little slut."
you whine, biting your lower lip as you try to catch his lips. he merely laughs mockingly, shakes his head as he pouts playfully, "what? you want a kiss?"
you try to nod as best as you can, and he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth teasingly before letting go. you whine again, your hands holding onto his back— clutching the material of his sweatshirt with a desperation you didn't know you could feel.
"i knew you were a little messed up," he grunts, prying your thighs apart with his knees, before settling his hips upon yours. you can feel the bulge in his pants so evidently, and it makes you moan. with a warning glare, he squeezes your cheeks harder, making your lips pucker up. it makes him chuckle, and he gives your head a little shake. "giving your little 'fuck me' eyes to a man my age. do you act like this with everyone? with that fucking boy from college?"
his voice gets louder, harsher with his words and you shake your head desperately. his hips press against yours, and he starts grinding them against your clothed pussy— making you whine.
"j-just you—" you mumble, but he doesn't let you finish. his mouth is crashing onto yours, one hand grabbing your neck again and the other going under your waist, holding you in place.
the kiss leaves you breathless. teeth and tongue slam together, and you moan needily as he grinds against you, the action making a damp patch appear on the front of your pyjamas. your legs wrap around his waist and he grunts, his hips faltering slightly from shock before he continues, cocking his head to the side to access your mouth better.
your hand comes up to his hair, feeling the softness of it. he grabs it, brings your other one up too and holds both of your wrists in a massive palm— before raising them over your head and keeping them in place. he rises over you, his hips thrusting against yours, and you look at him dazedly. strings of your combined saliva separate and drip down your chin, and you blink.
"please inho sir—" you whimper, your hands twisting in his hold. "slap me again, please."
there's a glimpse of shock in his eyes but it goes away just as quickly. you don't even get to expect how fast his hand pulls back and strikes against your face— but you moan at the contact. it's harder than before and it stings, and it leaves the most delicious pain in it's wake. you almost hope it leaves a little print for you to wake up to tomorrow.
"god, you're a mess," he laughs breathlessly, grabbing your hair. you give him an almost drunken smile— your lips puffy and swollen, hips rising up to press needily against his bulge.
"my little mess—" he groans before gently slapping you again, and you whine, chasing his mouth with your own. he leans forward and silences you with the kiss you were so desperately begging for.
he's pulling back suddenly, a hand digging into his pockets. your eyes flutter open and before you know what's happening— he's stuffing your missing panties in your mouth. it baffles you— and he laughs at the way your eyes widen. he doesn't allow you to move as his hand slips inside your pyjama, immediately rubbing your clit.
the sudden stimulation doesn't allow you to dwell on the matter for long. so he did steal your panties— and you cannot question him, because you quite literally did the same thing. how can you call him out, when you were sniffing his worn shirt like a fucking pervert, yourself? he knows that too, judging by the glint in his eyes— as if he's daring you to attack him. you barely get to protest as you writhe under him, and he rubs your clit till you cum all over his hand— your loud moans muffled by your panties.
he pulls his hand out and licks your juices off with the nastiest slurp, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. you tremble in his hold, before he's hovering over your chest, his thighs caging you in. he looks down at you smugly, pulling his leaking cock out of his pants. your mouth immediately waters— it's thick and darker than the rest of him, and the tip is flushed red. he doesn't allow you to sit up, keeps it conveniently out of your reach as he begins stroking it, hand moving up and down with a soft, wet shlick.
your pleading is silenced by your panties. you desperately try to push them out of your mouth, to reach up and touch him, but he's restrained you too efficiently. he throws his head back, lets out a soft, raspy moan. drops of his precum land on your face as he furiously jerks off over you, his movements getting faster. your eyes flutter, and he cums with a throaty groan, his entire body tensing— splatters of his cum falling upon your mess of a face.
there's tears in your eyes as you look up at him, and he chuckles. he lets go of your hands, and you immediately toss your panties out and cough. you glance at his softening cock with devastation etched onto your features— before glaring up at him, lips drawn into a sad pout. he laughs at your misery, holds his wet hand out, "come on."
like a fucking puppy, you grab his hand. you don't even understand where this degeneracy is coming from— you don't wish to. you don't care. all you know is you need this man carnally, and you're not going to say no when he's offering himself on a silver platter. with sheer enthusiasm, you start licking his palm, eyes fluttering closed. you lick between his fingers, take two of them in your mouth, making him moan; before he's physically pulling you off him.
you whine in protest, and he pats your cheek while tucking himself back into his pants. you pant heavily as you come down from your high, allowing yourself a moment to think about everything that just happened. your cheek still stings, and you've just experienced what you can only classify as the horniest, hottest moment of your life.
you're so lost in thought that you don't register the moment he pulls you into his bed with him, placing your limp body atop his chest. you were given twin beds in your tiny apartments, but you realize you fit in here pretty well. like a puzzle. he pats your hair and places a soft kiss to your temple. you have many questions, but you don't know where to start.
"so i'm guessing you weren't on your period," he jokes, and you groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you recall your little excuse. "i think that was smart. you'd make a pretty good investigator. as long as you don't go around sniffing their clothes—"
"shut up." you whine, glaring at him. he chuckles heartily, and your body feels warm. his hand goes down, slaps your ass teasingly.
"so you think i smell nice?"
"i said shut up."
"it's a yes or no question." he cooes, pinching your cheek. you whine, rubbing your cheek against his chest like a cat. yes, asshole. you wanted to say. you smell amazing.
in retaliation, you decide to ask your own question.
"were you jealous of je-hyun?"
he stiffens slightly, and you smirk. gotcha.
"that's a brave accusation." he retorts smoothly.
"it's a yes or no question," you shoot back teasingly, and he looks into your eyes.
"yes."
you pause then, a small smile appearing on your face. "yes? is that why you kept calling him a boy?"
he shrugs, looking up at the ceiling as his fingers run through your hair. "he is a boy. he couldn't take care of you like i could. and you already liked me before you started going out with him."
that punches the breath out of you.
"was i that obvious?" you ask dryly. he smiles, eyes darting down to you. he grabs your chin and tilts your head down, places a soft kiss upon your lips.
"policeman instinct."
ᥫ᭡.
it's a few weeks later that your entire world slips off it's axis. everything was fine with inho— he had taken you out multiple times. bought you cotton candy, kissed the remnants of it off your chin, and you two had walked hand in hand down the streets of seoul, much like the couples you envied on your first walk with him. you remember mostly going to eat spicy food with him because he was lactose intolerant and not a big fan of sweets. he'd even won you a plushie at an arcade that you now cuddle whenever you go to sleep without him. you remember not being scared anymore because you no longer felt the eyes of your stalker, and the only flowers you got were the ones inho would buy for you.
inho hadn't come home for two days and thirteen hours.
you know because you've been counting each hour. there's an unbearable itch in your stomach, and every door opening or closing in the hallway has you jumping and leaving to check. you'd met up with the landlady, insisted that she get someone to go look for him, but she'd merely brushed you off.
your days at work became gloomy and your classmates started to notice. je-hyun got a girlfriend too— one of your seniors. you were happy for him, honestly. but still fucking jealous. you missed your boyfriend, and worst of all, you were worried. he just went away without saying anything, and it filled you with a sense of betrayal.
you were in your own state of denial. no way he could do this to you— give you love and then snatch it away out of nowhere, leaving you empty and cold. you didn't want to believe it. absolutely not.
you were trying to sleep when you heard his name again. you sit up, quickly turning on the lights and jumping to the door.
"—he was supposed to pay his rent a week ago," your landlady says. you open the door and peek out, watch as she guides another man to his door. you wonder if he knows your inho. "i've stopped by everyday since then, but he hasn't come in or picked up his phone. by the way... about his rent... otherwise you'd have to move his stuff out right away—"
the younger guy ensures he'd pay the rent, and you watch curiously as she opens the door for him. "take your time!" she says.
so he definitely knows inho, you think.
you watch with bated breath, only his back being visible to you. you're not sure if you should approach him. suddenly, he's moving, turning around and leaving the apartment as if something came up. you open the door and watch him go— your voice stuck in your throat.
you don't see that guy again. you don't hear from inho again. you don't receive flowers, but the feeling of being watched still remains, although it's less frequent.
three days pass. you're gathering your belongings to leave when je-hyun places a bouquet in front of you. you look up at him, frowning.
"someone left this at the door," he says casually, rubbing the back of his neck. "for you. guess it didn't stop."
he leaves and you frown as you look at the flowers. you hadn't received these in a while. you analyse them— pink carnations paired with some white lilies and forget-me-nots. wrapped up in a white ribbon. you know carnations because they're infamous and can be seen in almost every flower shop. you also know carnations are usually used in weddings. they're a symbol of love and devotion. and forget me nots— there is no need for an explanation. the answer lies in its name. you're pulling your phone out to go through that website— the one that speaks the language of flowers.
perhaps it's your own stupidity for not having realized it before. you're quickly pulling the bouquet forward. no card. there are a myriad of emotions going through you— anger, hurt, and most of all— yearning. your heart yearns for him. it longs for him. your hands tremble as you clutch the edge of the table.
you look at the flowers almost bitterly. you grit your teeth, glaring down at your phone, the website open and displaying words that only evoke feelings of distress out of you. of course, it had to be him. there was no other explanation. flowers symbolizing jealousy right after je-hyun asked you out, you had mentioned how much you liked flowers the day you two went on a walk. them suddenly stopping the day you two started openly dating. you just feel stupid you didn't realize it sooner.
that manipulative prick.
you huff bitterly, your eye twitching as you read the damning text over and over again.
pink carnations — 'ill never forget you.'
inho watches your face through the screen with a glass of whiskey in hand; smiling slightly at the way you glare at him. him as in, the bouquet. he's testing a new thing, trying to see if you've figured it out yet. he's very conveniently placed a camera in this one. if you understand it's him who has been sending you flowers, he's a hundred percent sure you'll take it home and keep it. if you decide to throw it out, that's okay too. the teddy bear he won for you was easy to install a camera in. he gets to see you whenever he wants, even when he's away. watching your sleeping face is rather therapeutic amidst the brutal killings of the players in the games. whenever he starts to miss you, your face is a button away from him. he can't really keep an eye on you at work, but that's alright. he's paid someone to keep watch and make sure you don't find someone else.
it was fun to see the fear etched onto your face whenever you mentioned being stalked— he was the one carrying out the stalking himself, until other duties called. he had to take these measures to ensure he was the only source of your comfort, the only one to rely on. scaring you just a little so it would bring you closer to him. how else would you come to him? you needed a little push. and now he's got you wrapped around his finger, much like you've got him wrapped around yours.
the flowers were just fun. he liked messing with you. a little inside joke with himself— different flowers to express how he felt about you. he wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out. the way they worked to keep most men away was simply an added bonus.
you almost actually getting assaulted was not part of the plan. he'd spiked the kid's drink to make sure he could conveniently step in to save the day— to find you and bring you home. except that disgusting freak of nature decided to lay his dirty hands on you. you don't have to know that he went back to finish the job, that the man is six feet under the ground. much like your dear je-hyun would've been if he hadn't respectfully backed off and gotten himself a girlfriend.
he doesn't think he has anger or jealousy issues, no. he simply does not think that he can live without you anymore. anyone who comes between the two of you, has to go. you're a little naive and easy to manipulate, but it worked in his favour. you trusted him too easily, and he's gotten addicted to the way you make him feel like some hero. he gets to protect you and hold you and forget about everything that he's had to go through. it's a win.
he's seen how miserable you've been without him— the plushie he got you has been spending more time in your arms than your phone, which he thinks is a good development.
you miss him, and he misses you too.
he can judge by the clench of your jaw that you've figured out he was the one behind the flowers. the thought makes him snort slightly. he tilts the glass, glancing down at the clear fluid, before looking up at your face.
you've pulled back. you're picking the bouquet up, and carrying it out. you cross the trash can— and you don't throw it out.
you're taking it home.
a pleased smirk curls upon his face and he nods to himself, taking the remote and turning on his music box.
the notes of 'fly me to the moon' wraps around him like a comforting blanket. he's gonna take this as a hint. if you're taking this bouquet home even after realizing he's the one behind the flowers, it must mean you accept him. and he can make do with that.
you're young and impressionable, and you follow what he says. he could share his ideas with you, see how you react.
and perhaps the next time he sees you, he'll bring you to the games with him.
A/N: this was sooo fun to write!! it took me a few days to finish this and i got so unmotivated because i accidentally deleted a draft at first, but now it turned out so much better than before! i truly hope it doesn't feel rushed or bad, and i know the smut is mid at best but i really tried :( as always feedback is always appreciated, and thank you so much for the support on my fics so far! i love you guys!
tags: @movienerd3000 @testdrivethv @leebyunghunswifey @nerdybarbariancupcake @neganhore @k1ra-park3r @vivdolls @wab-i @stantwicr @creativerambling @yasmim-1007 @makethemgirlsgoloco @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @captaincarmel416 @warlabels @ferrarifinnick @smlbch @izzyyann @meheheasasa @poooopy @endlessfl4mes @selfishlittlebeing @pillowtalk6 @antiromanticbaby
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with the number of children i would have with this man, south korea's birth rate would rise
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I cant take this anymore i gotta fuck him
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i wanted to have gong yoo's babies and be his devoted sweet wife ♡
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KID
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f4f4729170ddcd88aefcd5ac4e7ff054/78873d1870ebb843-c8/s540x810/d1580b364c8fb88408f481b724d2f3c588afa33d.jpg)
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Summary : You discover that you're pregnant while on a mission on a completely different planet in another galaxy, and the father is your captain, Han Yun Jae.
Pairing: Captain!Han Yun Jae x reader
Warnings : suggestive, age gap, pregnancy, enemies to lovers
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You placed the blood sample into the self-analysis machine and pressed the button to start the process. Your eyes darted around the room as you anxiously checked for any signs of someone approaching while the machine worked.
It’s been about three months since you left Earth, bound for another planet to explore, test, and determine if it could sustain human life. Every two years, teams like yours are sent on eight-month missions to scout new worlds. The organization dispatches countless teams across the galaxy to increase humanity’s chances of finding a suitable home.
The machine beeped, signaling that the results were ready. It started printing, the faint sound of ink being laid on the paper filling the room. Nervously, you bit your thumbnail, your eyes flickering around as you waited. The moment it finished, you snatched the sheet, your hands trembling as you scanned the results frantically.
beta-hCG hormone: 11,233 mIU/mL.
Fuck.
You see, the beta-hCG hormone determines if a woman is pregnant. Levels below 5 mIU/mL indicate no pregnancy, but anything above that confirms it. Beta-hCG levels double every 48 to 72 hours, which also helps estimate how far along the pregnancy is.
You are roughly three months pregnant.
How had you missed the signs for three whole months? you kept blaming the vomiting, mood swings, headaches, missed periods, and cravings on the stress of being in space. It all seemed so obvious now.
You pulled out your vitals smartwatch to update your status, indicating your pregnancy so it wouldn’t send you period reminders. As you filled out the prompts, answering the usual medical questions, you froze at the final one.
What date do you think you became pregnant?
The words stared back at you, and you stopped breathing. Slowly, you navigated to the calendar and selected the date—the night you made a huge mistake. The night you slept with your captain, Han Yun Jae. The man you couldn’t stand. And who couldn’t stand you.
It happened the night before the mission began. The team had decided to drink together in his office as a farewell to Earth. you had a few drinks, and soon enough, you was blurting out stupid things.
Everyone else had already left. you was the only one still there, struggling to stay upright. you tried to push yourself to your feet but ended up leaning heavily against the wall for support as you made your way to the door. Yun Jae, meanwhile, was tidying up, collecting the empty bottles when he turned and noticed you crash to the floor.
He laughed.
Groaning against the cold, hard surface, you muttered, “Ajhussi, it’s not funny. Why are you laughing?” you tried to push yourself up but barely managed to lift your upper half.
“I give up,” you mumbled, flopping onto your back. “I’m sleeping here.” Covering your eyes with your arm to block the soft ceiling light, you got ready to pass out on the floor.
“No, you’re not,” Yun Jae said, clearly unimpressed as he continued cleaning his desk.
“Pretty sure I am,” you retorted, your words slurring. “Could you pass me a blanket? That would be so sweet of you—for once.”
You heard his footsteps approach and felt his shadow fall over you.
“Y/N, get up,” he ordered, his tone exasperated.
“You had a chance to be sweet, and you blew it,” you said, stubbornly refusing to move.
He crouched down beside you. “Y/N, get up,” he repeated, but you ignored him, lying there defiantly.
“Maybe that’s why you’re still single at fifty,” you muttered, shooting him a smug grin.
“I’m thirty-nine,” he snapped.
“Same thing. You’re old,” you teased, earning a heavy sigh of frustration from him.
“Y/N,” he said again, his voice taking on an edge of irritation.
You finally lifted your arm from your eyes and glanced at him with a smirk. “Ajhussi~,” you sang in a playful, whining tone.
“Last warning,” he growled.
“You sound like my dad,” you said with a laugh, enjoying his growing frustration.
“Maybe that’s because you’re acting like a child,” he shot back sharply.
The smile fell from your face, replaced by a frown. “Stop calling me a kid,” you said firmly, your brows furrowing. “I’m almost thirty. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Then get up,” he challenged.
You stubbornly turned your head away from him. “I can’t,” you mumbled, your voice tinged with something almost pitiful.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, without warning, you felt his arm slide beneath your knees and another under your back.
“What are you doing?” you asked as he lifted you effortlessly off the floor.
“Taking you to your room,” he replied gruffly.
You didn’t argue. you let him carry you down the hallway, though he nearly dropped you a couple of times—he was drunk too. When you reached your room, he set you down so you could unlock the door. you fumbled for your keys, but your vision blurred. Bending down to meet the lock’s height, you tried again, only for the key to fall from your shaking hand.
“Fuck,” you muttered, straightening up too quickly. The dizziness hit you like a wave, and you swayed, trying to regain your balance.
Yun Jae sighed, picked up the keys, and opened the door himself. He tossed the keys onto the counter inside, then stood there, holding the door open with an irritated expression. He was clearly eager to get this over with and go to bed.
“Thank you very much, ajhussi,” you said sarcastically, bowing in mock gratitude.
As you bent forward, you nearly lost your balance again, pitching toward the floor. Yun Jae caught you at the last second, groaning in frustration.
“What a dumb woman,” he muttered, hauling you upright by my forearm and steadying you with a hand on you waist.
He guided you toward the bed, but just as he was about to set you down, you tripped over an empty sample container. Instinctively, you grabbed onto him for support—and dragged him down with you.
He falls on top of you.
He's heavy, but not unbearable. His face is only inches away from mine, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. For a moment, neither of you moves. It’s like time itself has frozen, holding you in this strange, uncomfortable limbo.
“Y/N,” he mutters, his voice low and strained, though whether it’s from anger or something else, you can’t tell.
“What?” you whispered back, my voice barely audible.
His eyes lock onto mine, sharp and focused despite the haze of alcohol clouding both your senses. you can’t bring yourself to look away, even though your heart is racing, pounding so hard that you are sure he can hear it.
“You… are such a pain in the ass,” he says, his tone half-annoyed, half-something-else.
“And you’re—” Your retort dies in my throat as his gaze drops to my lips.
The air between you shifts, suddenly thick with tension. Your breathing quickens as you realize he hasn’t moved away yet. Instead, he’s still hovering over you, his weight pressing you slightly into the bed.
“You should get off me,” you manage to say, though my voice lacks conviction.
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his lips twitch, almost like he’s fighting some internal battle. “You’re right,” he finally says, but he doesn’t move. His voice is quieter now, almost a whisper. “I should.”
But he doesn’t.
Instead, his hand, still gripping your arm for balance, softens its hold. His thumb brushes against your skin, sending a jolt through your entire body. you hate the way your stomach flips at the contact, hate the way your heart seems to betray you by beating even faster.
“Yun Jae,” you say, but it comes out weaker than you intend.
And then, before you can say anything else, his lips crash into mine.
It’s not soft or tentative; it’s desperate, rough, and filled with the kind of frustration that’s been building between you for months. you freeze for a second, your brain scrambling to catch up with what’s happening. But then, without thinking, you kiss him back.
The alcohol has dulled your inhibitions, but it’s not just that. There’s something raw and undeniable about this moment, about him. All the bickering, all the glares and sharp words, it all feels like it’s been leading to this.
His hand moves to your waist, gripping tightly as if to ground himself. you find yourself pulling him closer, fingers tangling in his shirt as the kiss deepens. For once, we’re not fighting—at least, not with words.
The night blurs after that. The tension, the anger, the alcohol—it all swirls together, igniting something we’ve both been too stubborn to acknowledge.
You stare at the screen in front of you, your vitals smartwatch blinking its persistent question:
What date do you think you became pregnant?
Your fingers hover over the calendar, hesitating as the memories rush back. That night, so long ago but still so vivid. The way his lips pressed against mine, the heat of his hands against your skin, the way you gave in to something you both swore you hated.
You press the date, and the screen logs it with an impersonal beep. The action feels like a release, but it only brings more questions, more weight.
Do you wish to notify the captain?
You let out a hollow laugh, though there's nothing remotely funny about it. Notify the captain. As if that wouldn’t open a floodgate of complications. How could you possibly tell him that one moment of weakness has brought you to this point?
My hand hovers over the screen, your mind racing with indecision. But before you can decide, the sound of approaching footsteps pulls you from your thoughts. My heart lurches, and you quickly shove the device into your pocket, forcing a calm expression as the door slides open.
There he is—Han Yun Jae. Cold, unapproachable, and as sharp as ever. His eyes meet mine, and you wonder, just for a fleeting moment, if he can see it in your face, if he can tell what’s between us.
"Y/N," he says curtly. "We’re heading out for another exploration."
You nod, trying to suppress the flutter in your chest. "Of course."
He steps closer, his presence dominating the room. The tension from that night still hangs thick in the air, unspoken, unresolved. And though he doesn’t know it yet, you can’t shake the fear that everything is about to change.
“We need to leave soon,” he continues, his tone impassive, his eyes scanning the equipment scattered around the room. you envy his ability to keep his composure, his ability to seem unaffected. You feel like you are on the edge of breaking, but you can’t let him see it. Not now.
"Right," you say, trying to steady my voice. "I’ll be ready in a minute."
You grab your gear, moving quickly, gathering the essentials for today’s exploration. We’re on a breathable planet, so you don’t need much—just the basics: a scanner, sample containers, a few tools for analysis. It should be a straightforward mission. But everything feels off today.
As you adjust your pack, you feel the familiar nausea begin to churn in your stomach again. It’s not as intense as it could be, but it’s enough to make your head spin. A wave of dizziness threatens to knock you off balance, but you keep moving. you can’t afford to look weak.
We head out to begin the survey of the planet. The bright sun glints off the barren landscape, but you can barely focus on the view. Yun Jae leads the way, as always, with his confident stride and cold, calculating gaze.
You follow, but every step feels heavier today. My thoughts keep drifting back to the life growing inside you, the life that you still haven’t told him about. you won’t—not like this. Not when the tension between you is still so thick, so unresolved.
The exploration continues, though it’s more difficult than usual. You are exhausted—physically, mentally. My body feels like it’s betraying you. you keep trying to hide it, but the pallor of your skin, the way your movements seem slower, doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Y/N, you’re okay?” Ha-neul, one of the engineers, asks as she glances at you.
You offer another tight smile, masking the fatigue and nausea swirling inside you. “I’m fine.”
But Ha-neul doesn’t buy it. She knows you too well.
We continue, and as you near the edge of a cliff to take a sample from a distant ridge, Yun Jae pauses and turns to you, his eyes glinting with that familiar authoritative gleam.
“We need to get a sample from that ridge,” he says, pointing to the jagged rocky formation.
“Yeah, on it,” you reply, starting to walk toward it. But before you take more than a few steps, you catch him watching me—his gaze lingering on my face, his expression tight with what looks like worry.
He holds up a hand, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait. You stay here and keep an eye on the equipment.”
You clench your teeth, holding back the sharp retort that rises to your lips. “Why do you always assume I can’t handle it?”
He doesn’t look at you but responds in that cold, condescending tone that always sends a rush of heat to your face.
“Because you still act like a kid who doesn’t know how to do anything. You get distracted, and you can’t afford to babysit you.” that was just an excuse covering the fact that he was worry at you state just by one look at your face but you didn’t need to know that.
My heart lurches, and before you can stop myself, the words spill out.
“I’m not a kid!” you snapped, my voice sharper and louder than you intended. The words hung in the air, heavy with frustration and unspoken meaning. “I’m twenty-eight, for God’s sake! Stop treating me like some helpless child.”
You turned to face him fully, your glare unwavering as you continued. “I get that being ancient must make you think everyone younger than you need to be babysat, but guess what? I don’t. I’m capable, and I’ve been handling things on my own for a long time now.”
You noticed the silence that followed your outburst, the kind that was too heavy to ignore. Slowly, your eyes drifted past Han Yun Jae to the rest of the crew standing a few feet away. Their faces were pressed with a mix of concern and curiosity, clearly having heard every word.
Some of them exchanged awkward glances, unsure whether to intervene or pretend they hadn’t just witnessed you snap. Others avoided eye contact entirely, their focus suddenly absorbed by the dirt beneath their boots.
Heat rushed to your face as you realized the spectacle I’d just created. My hands clenched at your sides, embarrassment and anger bubbling together. you turned away from Yun Jae and the crew, your voice quieter but no less firm as you muttered, “This conversation is over.”
Without another word, you walked off, ignoring the weight of their stares as you walked to get the samples.
My footsteps crunch over the rocky terrain as you make your way toward the ridge, your breath shallow and uneven. you feel the weight of their eyes on your back—on both Yun Jae and you. But you don’t care. you can’t care anymore.
You are not a kid. You are not the same person you was when you first met him, when you used to argue over everything like it was your only language. He might still see you as that naive child, but you are not. you won’t let him define you anymore.
The harsh wind stings your skin as you reach the base of the ridge, your hands shaking as you adjust the sample container. you glance over your shoulder briefly, your mind still tangled with everything that’s happened. And, of course, Yun Jae is standing there, watching you with that cold, calculating gaze, his posture rigid as if waiting for you to make a mistake.
You can’t stand it.
You remember the first time you met him. you was just a kid—barely out of childhood, if I’m being honest—and he was always there. Always around because of your father. Han Yun Jae wasn’t just your father’s protégé; he was almost like a shadow. Quiet, intense, and seemingly perfect in everything he did.
My father had always insisted that Yun Jae was a brilliant mind, someone who could shape the future of your father’s work, someone who deserved the respect of everyone around him. But you never saw him that way.
To you, he was just your father’s trainee who treated you like you was beneath him. He never smiled, never showed anything that resembled warmth, and he always treated you like an inconvenience. A distraction.
You hated that. you hated the way he looked at you with cold indifference, as if you was just a little girl who didn’t understand the world around you. He’d always brush you off, belittle your attempts to prove myself. At first, it was almost funny—his condescension was so obvious—but as you got older, it started to gnaw at you. you wanted to prove him wrong. you wanted to show him that you was more than just a child, that you could handle things on your own.
But every time you tried, he pushed you further away. His icy demeanor only seemed to grow colder, and his words became sharper.
“Don’t be so naive, Y/N,” he’d say, his voice always so cold and clipped. “You’ll never be able to understand. Stay out of it.”
And you listened to him. you listened because he was older, because he had always been the smart one, the disciplined one. you was just the spoiled little girl of his mentor.
But something changed after you hit your late teens. The more you pushed back, the more things began to shift. What started as petty bickering turned into real animosity. The tension between you grew, and your arguments became sharper, more cutting. There was no longer any pretense of camaraderie between us. you hated him. And somewhere, buried deep within his cold, emotionless exterior, you began to feel like he hated you too.
It wasn’t just the typical friction of youth anymore. It became personal. It was as if he saw you as nothing more than an obstacle—a nuisance to be dealt with, nothing more.
And as you continue collecting the sample, you can feel the weight of his presence behind you, but it doesn’t feel quite as suffocating as before.
A few days later, after hours spent scanning and collecting samples, your head was spinning, and your body felt like it was on the verge of shutting down. Exhaustion and nausea clawed at you, and you wasn’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending you were fine. Because you weren't.
You silently prayed you could hold on until you reached the base. Pressing a hand to your stomach, you tried to steady the roiling turmoil inside you.
“You look like you’re about to collapse,” Ha-neul said, her voice cutting through the haze clouding my thoughts. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as you finally stepped through the base doors.
You waved her off, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just a little tired. I’ll rest soon.”
You made your way to your quarters, your stomach churning with every step. As soon as you were inside, you rushed to the small bathroom. The door clicked shut behind you, and you barely had time to close your eyes before the nausea hit full force.
You kneeled in front of the toilet, your body jerking with each wave of sickness. My stomach emptied itself, the bitter taste of bile rising in your throat. you couldn't stop it. It felt like it went on forever.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally pulled yourself together enough to sit back on your heels, your mouth dry and your face pale. you took a few shallow breaths, trying to steady myself. Your mind was spinning—sick, tired, and overwhelmed by the weight of everything that had happened, everything that was happening.
You stood, hands shaking, and rinsed your mouth with water, trying to rid yourself of the horrible taste. Reaching for your toothbrush and toothpaste, you began brushing your teeth automatically, trying to focus on something, anything, other than the racing thoughts in your head.
It was then that you saw him.
He was standing in the doorway behind you, his arms crossed, watching you through the mirror. you froze for a split second, your breath catching in your throat. you hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t noticed him at all. He looked so out of place, his cold stare boring into you even as you tried to keep your composure.
But you couldn’t. Your heart was pounding. Still, you refused to look at him directly. you kept your eyes on the mirror, focusing on the task at hand—brushing your teeth, pretending he wasn’t there.
You felt the pressure of his gaze, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. you just… kept brushing, as if you could make everything go away.
Just as you was about to spit and rinse your mouth, his voice broke the silence.
“Are you pregnant?”
His words hit like a thunderclap, shocking you into stillness. you didn’t respond, not immediately. Your hand froze mid-rinse, and you had to fight to steady myself, your thoughts racing.
He was right. Something was off. But you couldn’t let him know that.
You finished rinsing, washing your mouth quickly as you replaced the toothpaste and toothbrush.
The silence between you thickened. He was still standing there, his posture unchanged, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze never wavered, and you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your neck.
You turned slowly to face him, forcing a neutral expression, but inside, you were panicking. He was so close now. Too close. Your chest tightened with the sudden proximity.
“What makes you think that?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, even though your heart was hammering in your chest.
His eyes flickered with a slight, cold amusement. “You’ve been acting strange lately. More tired, more nauseous. The way you keep your distance when food comes around… You’ve been avoiding things, avoiding people. And the way you pale when you're on your feet too long—it all points in one direction."
you laughed—too sharply, too quickly. “I’m just tired. You know, long missions and all that.”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression unwavering. “And the fact that your periods haven’t come for 3 months? That’s just… coincidence?”
You froze, your breath catching in your throat. you couldn’t hide the shock in your eyes fast enough. “How do you know that?” you said, your voice betraying you with a slight quiver.
Yun Jae’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t break eye contact. “I have my ways.”
You backed away slightly, your heart racing, your mouth suddenly dry. "That's creepy," you muttered, trying to brush past him. you just needed to get out of there, away from his scrutiny.
But before you could even turn the door handle, his voice stopped you in your tracks. “You didn’t respond.” you look at him but you turned back to the door, your hand on the handle, but before you could open it fully, he stepped forward, blocking your way. you didn’t look up at him, but his presence was suffocating.
He leaned in, his voice lower now, the sharp edge gone. “You didn’t answer me.” he repeated in an irritated tone.
You didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. Your body was exhausted, your mind overwhelmed, and you just wanted to escape—escape this situation, escape him, escape the uncertainty swirling inside you.
You met his eyes, standing tall despite the shakiness you felt inside. “You already know the answer.”the words coming out colder than you intended.
Yun Jae’s gaze softened just a fraction, but the icy wall was still there, still firmly in place. He didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes.
And with that, you pushed past him, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, the cool metal of the ship offering no comfort anymore. you couldn’t let him get to you. Not now. Not when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.
But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
Days turned into weeks, and you avoided Yun Jae like the plague. you couldn’t face him—not after that conversation. Every meal became a calculated maneuver to dodge him. you either skipped eating entirely, braving the gnawing hunger, or grabbed your plate and retreated to your room or the lab. The smells of food only worsened the nausea, and you didn’t want him—or anyone else—noticing your discomfort.
But no matter how much you tried to act like nothing was wrong, you could feel the truth pressing against you, literally. Your body was changing. Your bump was small but undeniable now, a subtle curve that you could no longer ignore. you started wearing baggier clothes, anything to keep it hidden. Yet you knew this wasn’t a problem you could cover up forever.
Late at night, when you was alone in your quarters, the weight of it all would crush you. You would sit on the edge of your bed, your hands trembling as they rested on your growing belly. A part of you wanted to reject it, deny what was happening. But the fluttering beneath your fingers was impossible to ignore. A tiny life was growing inside you, and it terrified you.
You found yourself crying more often than you cared to admit. Silent, muffled sobs into your pillow as you thought about everything you would imagined for your first child. You'd always pictured being married, having a partner by your side, someone you could lean on when things got tough. you thought about warm nurseries, family gatherings, and laughter. Not this—being stranded on a distant planet, surrounded by cold metal walls, with the father of your child barely able to tolerate you.
The thought of Yun Jae made the tears come harder. you didn’t want to admit it, but a part of you had always cared about his opinion, even when you claimed to hate him. And now, the idea of raising this child alone, of carrying this weight by myself, was unbearable
The days blurred together, and you kept your distance from Yun Jae. you didn’t start conversations—not with him. When he spoke to you, it was only about the mission.
When it came to meals, you continued your routine of avoidance. The smells in the mess hall used to turn your stomach, but now that you was in your second trimester, your nausea had finally eased. you started enjoying food again—more than you ever had before. you were eating everything in sight. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to sit with the crew. You’d grab your plate and retreat to your room or the lab. It was better than facing Yun Jae’s gaze, which had changed in ways you couldn’t understand.
You’d catch him looking at you, his dark eyes fixed on you from across the room. It wasn’t the usual cold glare. There was something else there—concern, maybe. Worry? you wasn’t sure. All you knew was that it made your skin crawl. It made you feel exposed, like he could see everything you were trying so hard to hide.
The lab was eerily quiet after everyone left. you worked in silence, the hum of machinery and the occasional beep from the scanner your only companions. It was better this way—being alone. you could focus on your work without the weight of their stares or the hushed conversations that sometimes carried your name when they thought you weren't listening.
Before leaving, Ha-neul had paused by your workstation, her gaze lingering with concern.
“Y/N, do you want me to bring you a plate?” she asked, her voice gentle but persistent.
“I’m not hungry,” you replied curtly, not looking up from my work.
She hesitated but eventually nodded, joining the others as they filed out of the lab. The door hissed shut behind them, and you sighed, grateful for the solitude.
Minutes passed, maybe longer. you was deep in analysis, your hands deftly adjusting the settings on the equipment, when the door opened again. you ignored it, assuming someone had forgotten something.
It wasn’t until a plate slid onto the desk beside you that you stopped.
You blinked at it, the steam from the food curling up in delicate tendrils. Slowly, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting Yun Jae’s. He stood there, his expression unreadable, though there was a flicker of worry in his usually sharp features. In his other hand, he held a second plate—his own, you assumed.
“Eat,” he said simply, his tone firm but not unkind.
“I’m not hungry,” you shot back, your voice colder than you intended. You turned my attention back to my work, determined to ignore him.
But then, as if on cue, your stomach betrayed you with a loud, unmistakable growl.
You froze, heat creeping up your neck.
When you glanced back at him, he was smirking faintly, the corner of his mouth tugged up in amusement. Without a word, he sat down beside you, placing his own plate on the desk and beginning to eat, his movements unhurried.
“Eat,” he repeated, pushing your plate closer to you.
You scowled, reluctant but too hungry to argue with your body. Picking up a fork, you took a small bite, chewing slowly as you tried to focus back on your work.
“What are you doing here?” you asked after a moment, your tone flat as you glanced at him.
“I want to talk,” he replied, his focus seemingly on his food.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, taking another small bite, though your eyes never left the screen in front of you.
He didn’t respond immediately, and for a while, the only sound between you was the scrape of utensils against plates. But you could feel his gaze on you, studying you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less direct.
You didn’t answer, refusing to look at him.
“Why do you keep acting like this?” he pressed, his tone teetering between frustration and concern.
“I’m not acting like anything,” you snapped, dropping your fork onto the plate with a clatter. “I’m working, Yun Jae. If you’re done eating, you can leave.”
He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. For a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he reached out and pushed his plate closer to mine, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Eat,” he said again, his voice quieter now, almost gentle, as if he knew how close you were to snapping but didn’t want to push you further.
Then, without another word, he stood and left the lab, the door hissing shut behind him. The sound lingered in the air, leaving an emptiness you couldn’t shake.
You stared at the two plates of food in front of you, your appetite wavering despite the persistent gnawing in your stomach. His plate sat there, untouched except for the few bites he’d taken, a silent gesture that felt heavier than it should have.
For a moment, you felt the weight of it all press down on me—the loneliness, the tension between you, the secret you were carrying that was slowly changing everything. My fingers tightened around the fork as you fought back the emotion rising in your chest.
The food blurred in front of you, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe. you hated this—hated how he always seemed to know when to show up, hated the way he lingered in your thoughts even when you wanted to forget him. Most of all, you hated the way his quiet actions, like leaving his plate behind, managed to make you feel so unsteady.
Finally, you forced yourself to take another bite, chewing slowly as you tried to focus on the work in front of you. But no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the two plates beside each other felt like a conversation left unfinished, one that you wasn’t sure you was ready to have.
The kitchen was dimly lit, the soft hum of the ship's systems the only sound in the background. you shuffled quietly, rubbing your eyes and trying not to make too much noise. Hunger clawed at you, relentless and impossible to ignore. Sleep wasn’t going to come until you satisfied it.
After searching through the shelves, you finally found something that looked promising—a container of fruit, sealed tightly with a stubborn lid. you gripped it with both hands, bracing it against your body as you twisted, but it wouldn’t budge. Frustration built with each attempt, the hunger making your movements clumsier.
Unbeknownst to you, Yun Jae had been there the whole time, leaning casually against the counter with his hands in his pockets. He watched silently as you struggled, his cold, observant gaze fixed on you.
“Do you want some help?” his voice cut through the silence suddenly, calm and steady as always.
The sound startled you so badly that the container slipped from your hands, hitting the floor with a loud clatter. My heart jumped, and you spun around to glare at him.
“God, Yun Jae!” you hissed, clutching my chest as if that could steady my racing heart.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t apologize for startling you. He just stood there, his expression unreadable as his eyes shifted briefly to the container on the floor.
You stayed quiet, refusing to look at him directly. Instead, you bent down, picking up the container with shaky hands. Your face burned with embarrassment, but you ignored it, turning your back to him and trying once again to open the lid.
It was no use. No matter how hard you tried, the lid wouldn’t move. And then, without realizing it, you felt the tears start to fall.
At first, you didn’t notice them, too focused on your stubborn attempts to twist the lid. But soon, the drops blurred your vision, slipping down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. Your hands trembled as you tried to compose myself, but the harder you fought, the more the tears came.
It wasn’t the lid. It wasn’t even the hunger. It was everything. The pregnancy, the isolation, the weight of being stranded on this alien planet. The fact that you were carrying this alone, with no one to lean on.
Before you could spiral further, you felt strong arms wrap around you from behind, firm yet gentle.
You froze, your breath hitching as Yun Jae carefully took the container from your hands and placed it on the counter nearby. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his arms circling you in a quiet but steady embrace.
The warmth of his presence broke something in you. you let out a shuddering sob, your body trembling as the floodgates opened completely.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and calm as his hand came up to gently rub your arm. “Let it out.”
His tone wasn’t soft or warm—he wasn’t the type—but there was something in his voice, a quiet steadiness, that made you feel like you didn’t have to hold everything together for once.
He turned you around slowly, guiding you until your forehead was pressed against his chest. His hand slid to the small of your back, holding you close, while his other hand rested lightly on the back of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his words deliberate, almost hesitant.
You didn’t respond, couldn’t. you just stayed there, your face buried in his chest as the tears came harder.
He held you through it all, his hand moving gently along your back in a soothing rhythm. “Calm down,” he said quietly. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Minutes passed like this—his steady presence anchoring you as you slowly began to calm down. The tears slowed, your breathing evened out. you realized, almost absently, that your arms had wrapped around his torso, holding onto him without even thinking about it.
When you finally pulled away, he let you go, though his hands lingered for a moment as if making sure you were steady. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw something different in them—something softer, more vulnerable.
“You’ve been holding this in for too long,” he said, his tone still calm but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.
You wiped at your face, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t need your pity,” you muttered under your breath.
“Gosh, Y/N, this isn’t pity,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Why do you always have to be in denial?”
Silence stretched between you before he broke it.
“For twenty years, I’ve kept my distance,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Your father—he was the closest thing I had to a hero. He taught me everything, and when you joined the organization, I told myself I’d protect you. For him.”
You glanced up at him, startled by the admission. He looked away briefly, as if uncomfortable with saying it aloud.
“But I didn’t know how,” he continued, his voice steady again. “You were reckless, stubborn—always throwing yourself into danger without thinking.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off.
“And I—” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t know how to handle it. Or you. You weren’t just some kid anymore. Not to me.”
My breath caught, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“You were twenty when I started noticing,” he said, his tone cool but deliberate. “But you were too young, and I couldn’t—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let myself feel that way. So I kept my distance. I thought it was better that way.”
Confused by his words, you frowned. “Wait, I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?”
He hesitated for a moment, looking away as if gathering his courage. When his eyes finally met yours again, they were filled with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I have feelings for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but steady.
You froze, completely shocked by the confession. He continued, his words tumbling out as if they’d been bottled up for too long. “I started falling for you when you joined the organization. At first, it felt wrong—I thought I shouldn’t feel that way. So I tried to keep my distance, to be cold with you. You’re my mentor’s daughter, and you’re so much younger than me. I mean—I'm ancient, as you call me.” He chuckled softly, and despite myself, you found the corners of your mouth twitching upward.
“And it’s true,” he added, his tone gentler now. “At times, I thought of you like a kid. I felt like I owed your father everything, and protecting you was my way of honoring him.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before he continued. “But you’re not a kid anymore.” His gaze held mine, steady and unflinching. “You’re a woman. And now…” His eyes flickered briefly to your stomach, his expression softening. “Now, you’re carrying a life.”
Before you could respond, he turned, grabbed the container from the counter, and opened it effortlessly. He handed it back to you without a word, his expression unreadable.
You took it, your back turning to him as you started eating quietly, savoring the fruit. But then, you felt his arms wrap around you again, this time from behind.
His hand moved to rest gently on your belly, his fingers brushing against the curve. “It’s gotten big,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “How the hell have you been hiding this?”
You laughed softly despite myself, shaking your head. “Baggy clothes.”
His hand moved in slow, soothing circles, and for the first time, you let yourself relax into his touch. You stayed like that for a while, the silence between you comfortable and unspoken. Once you were done eating, and since neither of you could sleep, you wandered to the balcony.
You sat there until sunrise, talking about everything—the baby, potential names, your relationship.
For the first time, you didn’t feel like he was treating you like a kid.
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Doomsday
Seok-woo x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, no happy ending
A/N. rewatched train to busan a few days ago and I just thought of this and wanted to write it out!
You had worked for Seok-woo for as long as you could remember. You were probably there even before he was blessed with his beautiful little girl, Su-an. She had a way of melting your heart effortlessly, much like her father had managed to do over the years, though you'd never admit it. Not out loud, at least.
It was a shameful thing to feel. You, a grown, intelligent, and self-sufficient person, were in love with a man who has a wife. Or, well... had a wife until just a few months ago.
You'd seen how the divorce affected him, but it was Su-an who suffered the most. Her bright, contagious smile had dimmed, replaced by a sadness far too heavy for a child to carry. You tried your best to bring it back whenever she came to the office with her dad on the less hectic days. Whether it was through little jokes, snacks, or just letting her draw all over the unused papers and documents you were sure you’d never need.
Seok-woo noticed, of course. He always did. "You’re too good to us," he'd said more than once, half-smiling in that soft way that made your chest tighten.
Today was one of those days when Su-an had tagged along. She was sitting quietly in your office, flipping through the stack of magazines you kept on the coffee table for guests. Her small hands delicately turned the pages, her big eyes wide with fascination. "A little birdie told me it’s someone’s special day today," you teased with a playful smirk, pulling open your desk drawer to retrieve the small, neatly wrapped gift you had tucked away a week ago.
The girl looked up at you, curious, setting the magazine aside as you extended the gift toward her. Her wide eyes sparkled with surprise and excitement. Just as she reached for it, the door opened. “Morning,” you greeted automatically, your tone warm as Seok-woo stepped inside. His expression was a mix of relief and mild irritation, likely from rushing to drop off an urgent client file before picking Su-an up. “Morning, [Name]. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble,” he said, his voice carrying that clipped efficiency you’d come to know.
His gaze shifted to the box in Su-an’s hands, his eyebrows raising slightly. “You got her a gift?” “Of course,” you replied with a small laugh, brushing off the question as though it were nothing. “She’s been a sweetheart, as always. You know I don’t mind having her around. Though…” You glanced at Su-an with a teasing grin. “I’m not sure she’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it!” Su-an piped up, her small voice full of determination as she started tugging at the ribbon. You shared a smile with her father as you both watched her carefully unwrap the present, revealing a set of colored pencils and a thick sketchbook.
The reaction was immediate, and a bit expected. “Oh my gosh! It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, holding it up like a treasure. “Thank you so much!” “She’s been doodling on all my reports lately,” Seok-woo muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite in his words. You caught the faint twitch of a smile tugging at his lips. “She’s creative,” you quipped, ignoring the smirk he gave you. “Now she has her own space for it.”
Before Su-an could dive into her new gift, Seok-woo glanced at his watch. “We should get going. Her mother wants her by tonight. Something about her recital.” His tone was carefully neutral, but the slight stiffness in his posture was hard to miss.
Su-an’s excitement visibly faded. She clutched the sketchbook close to her chest but didn’t argue. The silence was heavy, but you stepped in, as you always did. “Su-an,” you said softly, crouching to her level, “don’t forget to fill at least one page before you leave, okay? I want to see what you create next time.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she nodded. “Okay. I promise.”
Seok-woo offered a brief but genuine “Thank you” as they left your office. You watched them go, a pang in your chest you couldn’t quite ignore. You couldn’t help but worry about both of them—how fractured their lives had become and how much weight they carried in silence.
That evening, everything changed.
It started as a last-minute phone call. Seok-woo, his voice uncharacteristically urgent, asked if you could meet them at the station. “Su-an wants to take the early train to Busan,” he explained hurriedly. “Her mom’s there, and I promised I’d get her there by morning but I forgot..” You tuned out the rest of what he said, answering with no hesitation in your response. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
You arrived at the station with a bag of snacks and supplies, something told you they might need it. When you spotted Seok-woo and Su-an on the crowded platform, you waved, smiling as Su-an ran to greet you. “Are you coming with us?” she asked hopefully, clutching your hand. Seok-woo frowned slightly but didn’t protest. “It might actually be good to have you along,” he admitted after a pause. “Just in case.”
You didn’t realize how ominous those words would soon feel.
Everything spiralled into chaos, news of an outbreak causing great panic all over Korea. You were lucky enough to get away from every danger you were faced with, always having Su-an’s safety on your mind before anything else.
In a state of panic and overwhelming emotions you couldn’t quite control, you pulled Seok-woo into a hug, almost seeming desperate as you clung to him like a lost child; however to your surprise, he returned the hug with just as much desperation. Something inside you instantly clicked as you pulled him away from the little group you’ve gathered over the many carts full of infected monsters; a pregnant lady and her husband.. their names being Seong-kyeong and Sang-hwa, at least you think.
Seok-woo looked at you with confusion as you took a deep breath, your hands shaking with nervousness and especially adrenaline. “Seok-woo, I know you absolutely do not want to hear this right now but in case we don’t get o—“ He glared at you and gripped your shoulders. “There is no ‘not getting out of here’ [Name], I will get you and Su-an off this train no matter what.” Your breath was shaky, tears threatening to spill as the days events sink in. “No, Seok-woo listen to me. If we— if I don’t get out, I want to let you know that I love you. You and Su-an. Please stay— stay safe for me okay? And make sure to tell Su-an to kill that recital.” You say between sobs, Seok-woo already pulling you into a tight embrace, shushing you. “I’ll get us out.” was the only thing he said before he went back to his daughter who was patiently waiting for you all to make a move.
You felt your heart ache as your words and confession was left unheard; the three simple words slipping from your tongue and left unnoticed by the man who has had your heart in a headlock for what seemed like all eternity, but of course, love could wait— survival can’t.
The silence in the next car was suffocating. Seong-kyeong sat in a corner, her face buried in her hands as she quietly sobbed. Su-an clung to you, her small hands gripping your sleeve as if she found your embrace as some sort of escape from this absolute nightmare. Seok-woo stood near the window, staring out at the chaos with a blank expression.
But you couldn’t focus on him. Your own thoughts were spiraling. The burn in your side was impossible to ignore now. At first, you thought it was just exhaustion, maybe a bruise from the earlier bumping into seats and doors—but when you finally glanced down, your blood ran cold.
The tear in your shirt revealed jagged teeth marks. Red blossomed around the wound, dark and unmistakable. You’d been bitten. Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you quickly covered the mark. You looked around, panic rising, but no one had noticed yet. Not Seok-woo, not Su-an.
“[Name]?” Su-an’s soft voice pulled you back. She was staring up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?” You forced a smile, kneeling to her level. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you lied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just tired, that’s all.”
Seok-woo turned at her voice, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. You could tell he sensed something was wrong, but before he could speak, the train lurched violently, sending everyone stumbling. You held Su-an’s head close to your chest, trying your best to shield her as the train started to slow down.
“Attention please. Due to blockage on our track we’ve stopped at East Daegu station. We either wait for the rescue team or go to Busan by a different train. I’ll go and find a working train, if you’re alive.. please transfer safely. Godspeed.”
That was all you heard from the train operator before it went silent; only the awful sound of hissing and gurgling coming from the other cars. Your head felt heavy, and with every step you took your legs started getting heavier and heavier, sweat dripping down your neck. Everyone managed to get out, however you stopped in your tracks as you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side and body. “[Name]..” Su-an called out with worry as she stepped back into the car even after your protests. “[Name] come on, we need to go to the east track like they told us. We can’t loose time.” Seok-woo said, his tone rough yet laced with worry. You smiled with tears streaming down your face, your hands shakily taking off your ring that you got yourself not long after your first ever pay check at the company.
“I think this is my stop, yeah?” You hiccupped, caressing the little girls cheek with nothing but love. “Hold onto this for me yeah?” You placed the ring into her smaller hands, closing her palm and kissing it gently. You turned your gaze to Seok-woo who looked terrified, kneeling next to you and shoving your hand that was clutching your side away, revealing those disgusting teeth marks. “Shit. No, no… no. [Name] you— Why didn’t you say anything? I told you to stay close to me, why, why didn’t you—“ You put a finger against his lips, smiling. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going on a little trip, okay? Promise me you’ll get to Busan safely. That you will go to that recital and that you—“ You shook violently, a painful groan echoing through the car. “Seok-woo. I love you, I love you and Su-an so much.” You smiled weekly before backing away from them, stumbling towards an empty cart which you then closed.
Su-an pressed her hand against the class, screaming your name with tears flowing down her face, while all you could do while your mind was still somewhat conscious was look at her, pressing your forehead against the glass. “I love you Su-an.”
That was the last words they heard before they rushed out the car and your mind got twisted into a flesh eating monster.
— 3 years later
A memorial was held for all the people who were lost during the breakout, bodies never being collected; only burned to get rid of every trace those events had left. The memorial was held in Busan on the Haeundae beach where thousands gathered to try and put their resting loved ones to peace.
"We’ve come here to remember those we’ve lost and honor the lives they lived. Though some of us come here to remember, some might want nothing more than to forget. The world has changed, and the scars left by all we’ve suffered remain, but we gather in the hope that together, we can begin to heal.
Let us find strength in their memory and courage in one another as we face what lies ahead, carrying their legacy forward in the world we rebuild."
A roar of cheers and applause filled the area as everyone spread across the beach, lanterns in hand, ready to release them into the sky. Each glowing light was a symbol—a guide for lost souls to find their way to a better, pain-free afterlife.
Su-an clutched her father’s hand tightly. The scar left on her young heart that day was still fresh, though it was slowly healing with time. Seok-woo, however, had never truly moved on from your loss. Your office remained untouched, never given to anyone else, despite countless suggestions from others after his company started up again. It was your place, and no one else’s. Su-an still visited occasionally, sitting there to draw and talk to you—or perhaps to herself.
“Hold this for me, please,” Seok-woo said gently, handing the lantern to his daughter. He lit it carefully, just as many others around them were doing, their lanterns already rising into the dark sky. Together, they held the lantern—Su-an on one side and Seok-woo on the other. With a nod of silent agreement, they released it, watching as it drifted upward to join the hundreds of others.
Seok-woo knelt down beside his daughter, pulling her into his side as she sobbed against his shoulder. He rubbed his hands up and down her arm, trying to comfort her, though his own heart ached just as much. A small silver chain was around his neck, a ring on it like a sort of charm; the same ring you always wore until that day. He couldn’t deny the weight of his regrets. The regret of not saying goodbye. The regret of not saving you. The regret of failing to protect you.
But worst of all…
That he never said I love you back.
© URFAVLARRY
DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS
I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫
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i loved this so much. i wished i was gong yoo's secret pregnant wife 😭
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 (𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐇.𝐊)
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Summary: “Her name is Noelle. I had a dream about her, she rings my bell…”
Contains: not smut but we damn near there, longing, somewhat slow burn, requited feelings, confession, Han Kyul being clingy, he’s in love don’t make fun of him, kissy kissy, like heavy kissing, making out, cursing, dry humping, nudity, love confessions, it’s the early 2000s and you have a wispy pixie cut (look at the boarder pic for reference), size difference, fluff, it’s p+rn but p+rn with feeling
A/N- I might write for all his characters like I love him down so bad
Update: YALL this is the first coffee prince fanfic on this app😭 I’m scarrrredd
٩(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)و*̣̩⋆̩* . °
. . + .°.
Unconventional.
That was the first word that came to mind when Han Kyul thought of you.
It wasn’t the only word, though. Messy, a bit moody but kind, smart-mouthed, odd, cute, distractible but reliable. You were focused yet mixed up- never knowing exactly where you were going but heading there determined anyways- a series of beautiful contradictions. Loud with soft hands; even when you’d scold him, smelling of cotton and creamed strawberries. That’s how you are to him.
But lately it seems you’ve been something more.
He’d been drawn to you from the start, the pretty regular with tinkling laughter and short hair who frequented his cafe, always in a rush of some sort but still taking time to flirt with him and be nice to the staff. At first he thought the initial rush of fondness he felt was just because of how awkwardly pleasant you were but the more you came around, the more familiar he got with you. Learning all kinds of stuff about you and what made you so…you.
Like how you and your mom didn’t speak because of her obvious preference to your brothers all your life even though they were headaches, how you adore your father though, that you go out of your way to wear mismatch socks because you think the matching ones are bad luck, that you prefer hot chocolate over coffee any day, how your jealous that his hands are pretty even though yours are too just smaller, even how you buy men’s jeans just because they’re baggier and you think it’s cute when pants cover your shoes and he thinks you’re cuter than anything. From there he realizes he could see himself liking you in ways that were more than fleeting thoughts and glances; so you two wind up hanging out more personally- more alone. Where he learns things about you through observation and question that make him long in ways he’s never known.
You were messy but you’re also kind, and even around others you were lonely. In fact, you were lonely most of the time. Despite that, you liked the way it felt when you dried your eyes and looked ahead; believing in the day you’d find the perfect skies to your horizon. You liked cloudy days that teetered on gloomy because it reminded you of hugs and holding hands, your best friend is a girl you’ve known since the third grade who you spit your milk on the first time you met- he smiles at that- and when he does you tell him that you don’t find only his hands pretty, but him pretty too.
“Face and all”, you say, pushing his hair back from where you’re laying on his floor like you always did at least once when he had you over and he’s sitting next to you looking down into your face with fond eyes, blinking slow as a smile grows on his lips. God, he wanted to kiss you breathless. The atmosphere is warm and soft and you two are close enough that the sweet smell that constantly clings to you, seeps onto him and in turn he finds himself mimicking it’s nature with how he begins to cling to you. Seeking you out, he’s touchier.
If you noticed, you don’t say anything. And why would you? Unbeknownst Han Kyul, you liked him back- and have since before he even liked you like that- but he was a smart boy so you’d let him figure that part out for himself. You shouldn’t even like him so much but you did. You liked how brash and bossy he sometimes was, enjoyed how oblivious he was to social cues, even how he wasn’t a morning person; getting pissy over the phone yet still wouldn’t hang up when you called him at any time he deemed too early in the morning. He seemed to find almost everything charming; everyone was cute in his eyes and that might be one of your favorite traits of his. Actually, no. Your most favorite trait was the easy way he always soaked himself in your personal space.
He was always kind of handsy but lately it felt like his touch was always on yours and you loved it. Times where they’d be casual at first, until his broad palms would wander then linger.
Times like now. At his place again, standing at his kitchen in a tank top with no bra; cooking for him because you wanted something he couldn’t make quite to your standards. Music playing in the background while you talked until you got quiet, needing to focus while you measured everything. He wasn’t good at being with you and not having your attention so coming to stand close behind you with, he places a warm hand on your shoulder that coasts across your shoulder blades, stopping to squeeze at the base of your neck, biting his lip at your soft gasp before moving his hand down the expanse of your back and gliding under your shirt; resting it at the curve just above your ass.
You tilt your head to the side when he leans down, tracing his nose slowly down your jaw to the back of your neck then head as he inhales deeply making goosebumps break over your skin, his other hand settling on your waist with a firm squeeze and the gasp that leaves you this time comes from a bolt of pure arousal- hands shooting out to grip the counter to steady yourself. The air is charged somehow- startling you with its sudden electricity, voice soft when you lean further back into him and ask-
“What are you doing?”
“How do you always smell so good? ‘Y skin’s soft too…” The low drawl in his voice drops a fireball right down to your core and you shudder. You were aware of your swiftly changing dynamic but never did anything to reverse it. You wanted things to change between you two. There weren’t enough words in any language to express how much you both liked about each other, nothing to give a name to the need to always be in your gravity.
You move to clear things to the corner of the counter (for no reason in particular) when thick arms suddenly surround you as Han Kyul buries his face in that spot where your neck slopes to your shoulder. You feel your heart pound so hard you’re sure he can hear it when he nuzzles closer and you feel his lips move.
“I missed you.”
Your eyelids lower as you smile softly, hands moving to cross over his arms, reciprocating his touch.
“It’s only been what? 4 days since I’ve seen you? I thought you were supposed to be a wild playboy, what happened??” He huffs out a laugh but holds you tighter and you’re beaming at this point.
“Doesn’t matter…I need to see you every day or else.” He was too cute.
“Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll miss you and so hard you’ll feel it and come running back to me.” You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you from how petulant he was being, pouting as he mumbles out into your shoulder about how much he suffered just because he missed you. You shuffle around a bit until you’re turned in his arms and while it’s not the first time you two have hugged, it is the first time you’ve held each other so close.
His onyx colored eyes shimmer with every unsaid word thats turned to stars in his mind, all revolving around you, they form constellations in your image. It almost hurts and he soothes the ache by pulling you closer, dropping his forehead to rest against yours. One of his hands slips back under your shirt to rest above your ass, craving the smooth skin to skin contact as he sighs. You loop your arms around him, steeling yourself as you look dead in his eyes to whisper the same.
“I missed you too.”
It’s a mystery who leans in first but all that matters now is that you’re kissing. Melting into each other as your lips move and it feels so deliriously good- feels like everything you need and more. You can’t help the way you rake your nails down his broad back, feeling him shiver as he groans in pleasure, pulling away to look at you for a beat with pupil blown eyes before surging back to your mouth. His kiss is deeper this time, wet lips sliding and sucking over your top lip then bottom lip before enveloping them together then licking hotly into your mouth, laving his tongue against yours and you’re lightheaded from how quickly your heart drops your core; eyes fluttering in bliss as you moan desperately from the back of your throat.
He couldn’t take this. You were driving him crazy. He needs you. Needs you, needs you. With him- in his life, around him always and forever.
Breaking apart from the kiss with a smack, he looks into your glazed eyes and swears before picking you up and sitting you on the counter, hands heavy with delicious pressure as they caressed your body; panting against your face with scattering pecks.
“I like you.” The three words fill you with warmth as he stands flush to you between your legs but you pull him closer, kissing him firmly enough for your lip stain to transfer, smearing raspberry color in its wake.
“I like you too. A lot, actually-“, his smile is almost blinding as he drops against you in relief. You like him back. You’d never have to be apart, your relationship wasn’t ruined.
You pull him back to your mouth and he tingles when you wrap your legs around him. Heavy breaths turn to gasps and moans while you lose yourselves in each other. Your nipples are hard against his chest and he hisses, even harder in his pants at all the sensations that being surrounded by you brings him. The second time you bring your hands to his biceps, squeezing the muscled fat, he has to pull away- lapping and biting your neck as he bathes in your sweet scent and cute sounds.
Even biting your lip didn’t stop or lessen the delighted moans leaving your throat so you give up, letting Han Kyul take you over as he was pressed to you, his full lips all over until you remember something.
“W-wait!” It takes a while for him to yank himself off you but when he does- you flush seeing how much of a mess he is. Kyul’s hair is messier than usual, lips puffy and stained from the color that was on your own lips, eyes eclipse black- pitching a tent so obvious it’s painful.
“What? What’s wrong? Did I-“, you stop him with a kiss but the second you pull away he’s back to sucking wetly at your neck, humming every now and then to let you know he’s listening and you jolt at the shocks of pleasure, trying to gather your thoughts.
“We- ahn- a date!” You moan the words out through a stutter as you’re almost laying down completely on the counter, legs pushed up and snug against his sides as his front grinds against yours, biting his lip as he nods mindlessly.
“Yeah, let’s date-“, you pull his head back by his hair to get him to focus since he clearly can’t multitask at present and he moans. The sound is wrecked and deep and so needy that it shatters your last threads of resolve and focus as you meet him in another filthy kiss, moving away only to strip his shirt off him, panting against his mouth between kisses-
“After this, you take me on a date- fuck- okay?”
He stares back with hearts practically in his eyes as he nods, kissing down your chest as he undoes the front of your pants, still grinding heavily against your throbbing center and you choke on the pleasure.
“Yeah baby, it’ll be the best date too-“, and you can’t wait, as excited to hold hands and eat food you both like somewhere with live piano music bonding the night away as you are to get fucked boneless on his kitchen counter.
Lips to your forehead snap you out of your datedream.
“Don’t even think of abandoning me after this, I’ll only find you and irritate you until you come back got it? You’re stuck with me.” You smile at his dramatics and he grins back, eyes crinkling in that comforting way they do before he’s pulling your pants and underwear off in one swipe, taking you in with a groan of disbelief.
“ ’y tryna kill me…”, he whispers, before bending down to pepper heavy, wet pecks down your body. You whine, eyes fluttering closed for a second at how good his hot mouth feels, running a hand through his hair; prompting him to look up at you with a cheekily fond grin.
“Stuck with you? Sounds like a dream..”
Only… life with you was so much better than anything his subconscious could ever conjure up.
And he’d be the muse to your horizon.
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OMFG I LOVED THAT... SO CUTE AND DREAMY 🥺🩷
<the butterfly perched upon you>
slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.
the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3
dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
word count; 8.1k
how can someone be this useless?
its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.
very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.
there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.
the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.
today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.
theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.
you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.
you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.
no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.
you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.
thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.
and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.
perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?
when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.
"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."
usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.
amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!
"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."
we!? who's we?! you internally sob.
"it's fine."
a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.
"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."
you hear the large man sit himself down.
"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."
you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.
"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."
you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.
meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.
later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.
"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."
"no, leave her. i was only curious."
uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.
uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.
it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.
the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.
that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.
night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.
"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."
oh...
you feeling like crying.
there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.
walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.
"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.
"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."
yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!
but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.
you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.
lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...
the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.
lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.
kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.
"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"
the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.
"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."
"right away."
you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.
"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.
"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.
there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!
you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.
it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.
you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.
you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.
the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.
time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.
"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.
"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.
"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"
you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.
"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.
you freeze on the spot, face heating up.
"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.
"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.
"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.
"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."
he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.
"understood?"
"yes, my lord."
without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.
"silly girl."
since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.
recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.
this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.
"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."
your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.
"keep your head up," he commands you.
"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.
the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.
"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.
"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.
"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."
after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.
you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.
after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.
but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.
you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.
three sharp knocks.
"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"
"you may."
you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.
"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.
you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.
"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."
oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.
hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.
"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.
you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.
"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.
"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.
after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.
things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.
"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.
"such a helpless, troublesome woman."
he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.
you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.
"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"
a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.
you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"
you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.
you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.
back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.
you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.
after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.
in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.
before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.
the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.
the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.
from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.
he walks towards your light.
you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...
a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.
"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.
"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.
"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.
and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.
"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.
"ack-!"
"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.
you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.
you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.
"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.
your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.
"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."
it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?
his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.
"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.
"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.
you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.
and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.
upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.
the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.
lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.
by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.
right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.
"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."
your stomach starts stirring once again.
the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.
it takes courage to speak up behind him.
"did you wish to see me, my lord?"
sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.
"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"
"certainly."
as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.
tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.
"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.
is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.
"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.
there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.
"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"
"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."
like almost everything else in life.
"i see. that is most understandable."
the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.
you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.
you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.
"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.
you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.
"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.
his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?
"perhaps actions will speak better than words."
that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.
"sit closer to me."
you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.
sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.
"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."
the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?
his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.
your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.
"relax", he's telling you.
and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.
quite a bit of time has passed since that day.
you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.
however, on days when he has returned...
you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.
your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.
it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.
"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"
"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"
"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"
you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.
"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."
and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.
you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.
his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.
red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.
your hand continues to softly caress him.
sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.
this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.
the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.
a butterfly...?
your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.
but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.
(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)
he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.
but...he supposes that he's the same.
what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?
as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.
well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.
not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.
...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.
nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.
sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.
a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.
without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.
"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.
...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.
"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.
you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.
sukuna thinks for a moment.
"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.
"p-pardon?!"
"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."
you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.
"what, you don't want to?"
"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."
you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.
"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.
"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.
you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.
when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.
"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"
"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."
"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.
"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."
you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.
"quickly- don't run my patience thin."
you make your way towards him without further hesitation.
sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.
the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.
sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.
his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.
when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?
you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.
and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.
upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.
"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.
"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.
"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.
you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.
for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.
"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.
you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.
"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.
"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.
you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.
"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.
his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.
"i thought you said you were going to leave?"
"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.
the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.
"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."
you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.
"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.
...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.
his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.
but,
right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.
you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.
"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."
that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.
"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."
"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"
he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.
"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"
another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.
"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."
he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.
"s-sukuna-sama..."
"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."
he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.
but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.
...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.
during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.
"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."
you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?
such hopes fill your mind.
you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.
by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.
"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."
you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.
"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.
"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."
you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.
quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.
you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.
you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.
a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.
yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.
sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.
"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.
"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.
"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."
"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."
"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.
"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."
you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.
"i'm only teasing."
he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.
a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?
"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"
"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"
"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."
it could only ever belong to you.
he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.
"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."
your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.
"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.
he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.
sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.
he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.
you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.
"... you're beautiful,"
he finally relents.
sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.
fin.
Masterlist
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Me getting a job at Kineros Robotics so the literal antichrist will notice me:
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laying in bed with megumi, your head resting on his chest as you watch him scroll through his phone. every now and then he will scroll past a video he wants to watch and you'll bug him until he scrolls back up so you can see it—mostly all the cat videos that he gets on his explore page now that you're always sending them to him.
but he keeps shifting, almost like he's uncomfortable. and because you don't want to hurt him with your weight on top of him, when he shifts for the fifth time in less than ten minutes, you pop your chin up on his chest and look at him.
"am i too heavy?" you ask, and megumi furrows his eyebrows.
"what? no."
"you keep moving. are you uncomfy? is it because of—"
megumi shuts you up with the roll of his eyes. his jaw ticks in the way it does when he's biting his words back, and he looks up at the roof. with each breath he takes, you can feel his heart thrum in his chest just a little bit faster.
"i just... like being close to you, is all. and i don't know how to ask for what i want."
you prop yourself up a little and swing your leg over megumi to straddle his waist. his hands instinctively find your waist, and you're brushing his spiky hair up and off his forehead before pressing a gentle kiss to it.
"wha—"
"that's what you want, right?" you wiggle your eyebrows, peppering kisses over his cheeks, nose, jaw, chin... "to be kissed so much you can't breathe!"
you attack megumi with so many kisses that his attempts to push you off him become futile, and he's left to scrunch up his nose and take the brunt of your desire to smooch. he grumbles, acts like he was going to ask to go get food or something, but you catch the way his cheeks flush and he starts to laugh alongside you.
you really need to teach that boy how to ask for a kiss.
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why is part of me still waiting for gojo like a war widow who received the news and just pretended not to
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so... 6 years with jjk passed in a hurry. i am very sad and i really miss gojo. but i was happy to see megumi
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