#.avy writes

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Dreamers

Lee Seokmin (DK) x fem!reader

Genre: mostly fluff, with a hint of anxiety

Word Count: 10.9k

Wanings: food mentions. adult language. a few parts may come off as suggestive, but not really. y/n is an environmentalist but not vegan.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Sleepwalking is a nasty issue. You find yourself in the correct building but wrong apartment, sharing a room with a ridiculously cute boy who seems to find it amusing.

Note: This one goes out to all of my ambitious girlies! Keep working towards your dreams!

The moment you stepped onto the evening bus you regretted the decision. 

With a bright smile, Sunny greeted you, rushing to move her bags into her lap so you could take the seat next to her, all while never once taking her eyes off you. Her brows rose in a questioning manner. You cursed under your breath as your neighbour’s usual warm smile morphed into a look of disbelief when you sank into the seat next to her.

With a sigh, you raised a hand to silence her. “I know.”

But she didn’t take the hint. “When was the last time you slept? Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answer to?” you whined and hugged your bag close to your chest. “I’m sure you heard me showering at 3 am.”

“The bags under your eyes aren’t supposed to make it look like you have a black eye,” she told you as if she hadn’t heard you at all, still eyeing you in worry. “How much did you sleep? You look worse than Jeonghan when he thought I was mad at him.”

“Does it matter?” You huffed. “At least I’m getting some rest.” 

“I think it only counts as rest if you actually get 8 hours of sleep every once in a while,” she countered with a snicker, “which, by the looks of it,” she gave you a once-over, followed by a disappointed a sigh, “you haven’t had in years.”

“I sleep just fine. I’m healthy, I am productive,” you defended and tightened your hold on your bag. “Sleep is for the weak anyway.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how you’re friends with me but not Jihoon. Your mentality is almost identical.”

“Listen, somebody has to do the work. And unlike some, I’d actually like my work to amount to something bigger than an average paycheck that barely covers my bills. I have ambitions. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Honey, at this rate you’re not gonna live long enough to see your ambitions come to life,” she grumbled under her breath and linked your arms. “It’s okay to rest every once in a while. Take a week off from work and actually just do something fun for a change.”

You grimaced. “I’d rather not. Messes with my groove.”

Sunny had no words left to say. She stared at you with a wide mouth for a moment before sputtering, “How– How are we friends?”

“Fate brought us together so you could nag me at all possible hours,” you joked, looking out the window now to avoid missing your stop. “But seriously, I don’t need to rest. I love my job and my colleagues and I’m making a change.”

“You should at least go to sleep early tonight.”

“Can’t. I have a big report due next week and I don’t want to miss my deadlines.”

Her gaze hardened immediately as she cursed, “Why, you little–”

“Hey!”

“I’m just worried about you,” she mumbled through a pout just as your bus arrived at your shared destination. With a begrudging sigh, she unlinked your arms and gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you stood up and walked over to the door “Well, I guess it’s your life. But I swear–” she pointed at your face, eyes squinted in a glare; she interrupted herself mid-sentence, “no, I vow that if you collapse under the stress, I’ll personally go and hand in a letter of resignation in your name.”

You scoffed at her empty promises, smiled, and stepped off the bus. You had no doubt you would be just fine and she was overreacting over nothing. She couldn’t wrap her mind around your work ethic and goals – she was built of an entirely different wood.

Then again, you couldn’t deny you often felt a little jealous of her. The nagging feeling hit once again when you looked up to find Jeonghan standing at the gate of your building, his smile widening the closer Sunny and you got to him. You envied that she had found – through trials and tribulations, you’d admit – a perfect man to brighten her days while you had no time to even contemplate romance.

“How was your day, my beautiful lady?” Jeonghan greeted your neighbour with a sweet kiss on her forehead before taking her bag and leading her inside with a hand on her back. He didn’t forget to offer you a welcoming smile and a friendly “good evening” as well, both of which you returned.

“Are you going to the 5th floor tonight?” you asked them as the three of you trudged up the stairs and they made no effort to walk to her apartment. 

Sunny nodded. “It’s movie night and he has the bigger TV.”

Jeonghan let out a loud ‘ha!’ and grinned at her victoriously. “So you admit it. My TV’s better than yours!”

“That’s–” She sighed deeply. “That is not the point right now–”

“How is it not?”

Unable to continue watching their lovers’ quarrel, you hummed and waved them goodbye before promptly unlocking your apartment, walking in, and quickly locking it again as if their bickering or cheesy nicknames could otherwise follow after you. 

You had far more important things to do, after all. 

With a tired sigh, you warmed up some of last night’s leftovers and opened your laptop. The familiar Times New Roman font on your screen prompted a soft groan, but still you squared your shoulders and got to work. 

If you were quick, you’d get this done way before the deadline. Maybe you could even go to work in the morning with a nearly finished report! You smiled at the thought. 

But life doesn’t always go as expected. 

You thought you were old enough to know this fact already. After all, when had life ever followed your expectations? It seemed to enjoy throwing curve balls right at your head.

You woke up with a splitting headache at 7 am, an hour before your usual alarm. It was strange – you concluded so as you stared at the time on your phone through a squint. With a soft huff, you let the phone drop back onto the mattress and your head onto the pillows.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you then heard a voice.

Your eyes snapped open. There was someone in your room. 

The voice sounded apologetic as it continued in a whisper, “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make any noise. Sorry. Let me just get my shirt and–”

You sat up abruptly to stare at the intruder – a handsome familiar-looking man shuffled around the walk-in closet. Worst of all – he was shirtless. You dreaded to think of what had happened the night before.

“Who– Who are you?” you stuttered out, instinctively lifting the blanket higher against your torso despite the fact that you were fully clothed. “Why are you in my apart–” 

Then it hit you. The worst of the worst realities. 

“Holy shit, this isn’t my apartment!” you screamed and jumped out of bed to apologise profusely. “I’m so so sorry! I had no idea! I don’t how–”

“Hey, hey!” The man – now wearing a crispy white button-up shirt – walked out of the closet hurriedly, a worried smile on his face as he rushed to comfort you with a gentle hand on your back, leading you to sit back on the bed. “It’s okay.” He let out a laugh. “I was going to let you sleep for a while more. It’s okay.”

You had no clue how he could be so calm about this. What the hell happened last night?!

You stuttered. You sputtered. You gasped for air like a fish out of the water. You were on the verge of a panic attack at 7 am in the morning and he was smiling, all while patting and rubbing your back like it was the most natural thing. 

“Why am I here?” you eventually managed to breathe out. You hated to admit that his calm and friendly nature was helping you adjust to the situation.

He raised a brow, his soothing movements stopping. “I was hoping you could answer that.” 

When you made no move to do so and only offered him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “I woke up to someone trying to unlock my door at 2 am. Almost cried, actually, but then I heard a knock and Mingyu telling me to open the door, so I did and you…” He gestured widely to his room. “Well, you came in and went straight to bed as if it was your own home. I didn’t know what to do but Mingyu and I figured you needed to rest.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw. “You didn’t think to call the police?”

“Well,” he grimaced, “I was going to but you really looked like you needed to sleep.” He gave you a worried look, inspecting your face. “You still do, actually. Do you sleep at all, like, outside of my bed?”

“I sleep plenty,” you scoffed and got out of the bed, wiping your face with your sleeves as if to rid it of any evidence that might suggest otherwise. With an awkward look, you bowed and began heading out. “Well, thank you for… your hospitality. I’ll get going. I’m sorry for bothering you. This won’t happen again.”

Before he could say another word, you slammed the door shut behind you and began heading… where were you heading?

You looked around the hallway. It was still your building. You could recognise these hallways even in your sleep. A quick glance informed you that you had just stepped out of apartment 1D – the apartment directly below yours.

You groaned as the realisation sank in that you could never visit the first floor without feeling awkward again. With a sigh, you headed up the stairs to your own apartment.

“Isn’t that Seokmin’s apartment?” Sunny pointed out when you told her of your horrible adventure on the bus home from work later that day. She frowned a little as she tried to recall exactly who lived there. 

“Whoever it was, at least it wasn’t Jihoon.” You shuttered to even think about it.

Sunny grimaced. “Yeah, I’d be bailing you both out of jail right about now.” She then shrugged. “Yeah, I think that’s Seokmin’s apartment. He really just let you stay the night there?”

“Apparently?” You wanted to laugh at the insanity of the situation. “I have no recollection of what happened or how I ended up there. The last thing I remember is working on my report in my kitchen and then waking up in a shirtless man’s apartment.”

“Shirt–” She almost broke her neck at the speed she turned her head to look at you with wide eyes. “He was shirtless when you woke up?!”

“He was getting dressed for work–”

“Well, is he hot?!”

You had never wanted to throw someone out of a moving vehicle so much before. “Is this what you’re focusing on right now? I’m going through a crisis here!”

“Yeah but–”

“You literally have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but–” She paused mid-excuse and nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Right. You have a point there.”

“How did I possibly end up in his apartment at night without remembering it?” you contemplated, leaning your head back against the seat. “I can’t think of a single explanation.”

“It is weird,” Sunny hummed in agreement as the bus rolled to your stop. The two of you got off. 

“Where’s Jeonghan?” you wondered in surprise upon not seeing him all the way up to the second floor.

Sunny shrugged, still deep in thought about your predicament. “I don’t know. Probably causing trouble with Junhui again. Possibly getting on Joshua’s or Hyesoo’s nerves. Maybe he stole someone’s mail or took the hinges off someone’s door. Not my problem.”

You could only stare at her in absolute wonder. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s his own person.” She then clapped her hands together in revelation, stopping in her steps in the middle of the hallway. “Didn’t you say you used to sleep-walk as a kid? I swear you mentioned it over coffee once.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but it hasn’t happened in a literal decade.”

“Who’s to say it didn’t happen again last night?” she suggested with a shrug. “By the way, do you wanna come over for coffee and cake? Jeonghan bought one on sale because the expiration date is today, but it’s sort of giant.”

After contemplating for a moment (more of a debate really, won by the grumbling of your stomach), you agreed and followed her into her apartment. 

As the two of you walked into the kitchen, she continued, “All I’m saying is that there’s a lot going on in your life right now and maybe it all worked together – the stress, the lack of sleep, you get the gist – and now you’re sleepwalking again.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” Jeonghan suggested. You jumped in your spot before finding him sitting at the dining table, fully focused on assembling a lego set. He continued without a care in the world, “Sleepwalking can be a serious issue.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

He finally glanced up to offer you an amused look and a chuckle. “I’m her boyfriend. Where else would I be?”

“I invited her over for coffee and cake,” Sunny informed him with a kiss on his cheek. “Play nice.”

“Yes, princess,” he spoke in reply before turning back to you. “But I would really go to the doctor if I was you. If it’s bad enough that you wake up in someone else’s apartment, it’s bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit.”

You felt yourself pale, your blood running both ice cold and lava hot. “How– Why do you know that?”

“It’s the talk of the town,” he joked before waving his joke off. “Just kidding. I met Seokmin on my way to the store earlier and he told me. He seemed worried about you.”

“So it is Seokmin!” Sunny cheered victoriously. “I knew it! I told you!”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

You sat down at the table and slumped in the chair. “But if I’m sleepwalking, why did I go to his apartment?”

“Isn’t it right below yours?” Jeonghan pointed out like it was obvious. “Asleep you probably thought you were going to your own apartment. You just mixed up the floors.”

“So,” you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose before meeting his eyes and maintaining eye contact, “what you’re suggesting is that I fell asleep–”

“Yes.”

“–in my apartment–”

“Mhm.”

“–then left my apartment for some reason–”

“That much seems obvious.”

“–and then went to Seokmin’s apartment–”

“For some reason, yes.”

“–one level below my own?”

Eyes widening, he hummed at the slight error in the logic. “You do have a point. Why would you leave your own apartment to go to your apartment?”

“My head hurts just listening to this,” Sunny informed the two of you while serving the cake. As a slice fell over on a plate she quickly assigned to Jeonghan, she suddenly suggested, “What if you thought you were going on a walk and then returned home?”

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he began recounting, “So, what you think happened is that she fell asleep–”

“I’m going to kick the both of you out if you start again,” his girlfriend declared all of a sudden, pointing a knife in his direction. “I’m serious.”

“It is a reasonable guess though,” you decided as Sunny placed a plate of cake in front of you. “I do love going on walks when I’m stressed.”

“Then–”

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. You watched in mild amusement as Sunny and Jeonghan silently argued over who should open the door and if they should open the door at all. Eventually, to your surprise, Jeonghan relented and got up with a slight groan. The moment he was out of the kitchen, Sunny stole his seat across from you.

“I think the worst part is that I don’t know how to face him again, like ever,” you started the conversation again while taking a bite of the cake. “It was so awkward.”

“Speaking of awkward,” Jeonghan announced and led the newest guest into the apartment. The now familiar feeling of both ice and lava in your veins made a new appearance as you recognised the visitor. Your spoon dropped back on the table.

Seokmin offered you a friendly smile and a wave. “Ah, so that’s where you are. I tried your door but no one answered so I wondered if I had the wrong place.”

“You–” That was the only syllable you managed to voice. Your brain was scattered, filled with pictures of the awkward morning as well as a single fluttering butterfly carrying an obnoxious sign that said ‘he cares’. You gulped. 

Thankfully, Sunny stepped in. She smiled brightly and ushered Seokmin to take a seat while she found an extra plate. 

“I wasn’t going to come and bother anyone–” he tried to reject the offer of cake, but failed to. He was too friendly for his own good – just like the rumours around the building often said. He sat in the seat Sunny had preoccupied just seconds ago, right across from you, and smiled at her. “Well, if you insist.”

“What can I do?” Jeonghan sighed and theatrically looked away as he started his monologue. “Everyone loves my girlfriend so much. How can I possibly keep her–”

“Stop being melodramatic and come eat, idiot,” Sunny laughed and took the seat next to you. “So, Seokmin, what brings you to my friend over here?”

Seokmin opened his mouth to reply before turning to you and softly asking, “Is it okay to talk about it here?”

Sunny chuckled. “About her waking up in your apartment? Go ahead. I think everyone in the building knows already.”

“Oh.” He offered you an awkward-looking smile. “Well, sorry about that. I only mentioned it to Mingyu and Jeonghan but I guess– Nevermind. I just wanted to tell you to not worry about it.” His smile brightened, genuine and full of warmth all of a sudden. “We all have rough days – and rough nights – and I’m just glad you got some rest.”

“I have one question,” Jeonghan raised his arm before asking, “where did you sleep?”

“Me?” Seokmin shrugged. “The sofa. There was a woman in my bed.”

You somehow felt both worse and better than before. At least you knew he didn’t hold a grudge – after all, he seeked you out just to tell you it had been fine – but at the same time: you made this poor man sleep on the sofa instead of his objectively comfortable bed.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I said it’s fine,” he laughed and reached out to pat your hand. “I really don’t mind. You looked like you were sleeping very well. But–” he tilted his head in thought, a slight frown appearing, “–is it possible you were sleepwalking? You didn’t react at all last night, to anything. You just… brushed past us like we weren’t even there. I don’t know if you even had your eyes open.”

Sunny all but slammed her spoon on the table to give you a haughty look. “Yep. Told you. You were sleepwalking.”

You frowned. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Should I…” Seokmin scrunched up his nose in thought. “Should I maybe keep a look out in case this happens again?”

Immediately you shook your head. “No. No need. It was a one-time thing. A fluke. It was nothing. Won’t happen again.” In your attempts to not look at him, you happened to eye the clock. Your jaw dropped. “Oh. I should go home. I have–”

“–a report due in a week and deadlines to meet,” Sunny finished for you with a laugh. “I know, I know. Go.”

Jeonghan spoke up as well, “Take the plate and another slice of cake before you go. I want to know you eat at least a little between your work.”

You did as you were told and made your escape without another word, not even a goodbye to Seokmin. 

You had no time to feel guilty or consider that your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him coming to find you. Once again, you buried your feelings into lines of Times New Roman in your report.

“Oh, you come here too?” you heard his voice just two days later at the grocery store. 

It was a little surprising to find him there: the store was a good mile further from the one closest to your building. Like a startled owl, you stared and blinked at him in the cereal aisle. 

As you opened your mouth to respond, he chuckled and looked away at the cereals. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk to me. I just needed to get some Fruit Loops and figured I might as well say hi.” He placed the cereal in question into his basket and offered you one more friendly smile and a playful wave. “So, hi!”

“Hi,” you managed to drag out as you lifted your hand in a wave. 

With a chuckle, he turned and headed away to the next aisle. You thought you were free from him for the day. 

But alas: you found him again when you went to get eggs. He seemed to be contemplating between two brands. You tried your best to go unnoticed as you searched for your favourite local free range brand. To you dismay, he stood right in front of the eggs you seeked. 

“Excuse me,” you started and tapped his shoulder when he didn’t seem to notice.

He smiled upon recognising you. “Yeah?”

“Could you move? I want those eggs.”

“The expensive ones?” He raised an eyebrow and handed you a carton. “They’re almost triple the price of the store brand.”

“But they’re free range and locally sourced. You should try them,” you explained with the slightest bit of enthusiasm before placing eggs into your cart and walking away in the direction you thought him least likely to follow. 

You truly thought you were free of him when you went to the checkout, but once again, as if tasked by god himself to be wherever you went, Seokmin was in front of you in queue, meticulously placing his items on the counter. As he turned to put away his basket, his eyes found yours and a bright smile appeared on his face. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“It’s me again,” you replied with an awkward laugh. 

“Are you leaving too?” he wondered while fishing his bag for his wallet. When you nodded, his eyes lit up. “Do you need a ride home?”

Your eyes widened. “A ride?” 

Why was he offering you a ride home? Why was he so friendly with you at all? You had broken into his apartment – in the eyes of the legal system anyway – and he was smiling at you like you were a beloved friend. 

“Of course. We should stick together, no? We’re neighbours, after all– Hold on,” he interrupted himself to respond to the cashier, “Yes, by card please.Thank you.”

“You might have to wait a moment then,” you finally relented when he turned to you once again, eyes resembling a puppy. His smile widened at your words and he nodded. 

The ride home was short and awkward. You greatly feared he would try to retaliate for the emotional damage you might’ve caused by sleeping in his apartment. To your relief, he did not such thing and only continued cheerfully chattering.

“–but I feel like a dog would be too much work, you know? I love dogs but I don’t have that kind of time.” He offered you a glance. “Do you have any pets?”

You scrunched up your face in thought as the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot of the building. “I have a cactus.”

“... Does it have a name?”

Eager to not disappoint, you blurted out the first name that came to mind: “Bertha.” You shut your eyes in shame.

But as the two of you got out of his small red car, he laughed. “Bertha? Sounds lovely. Is she high-maintenance?”

“Very.”

“Yeah?”

You decided you liked his laughter and the bright smile that came with. “Easier than a dog though.”

He laughed louder at that and handed you your grocery bags. “I bet. Maybe I should get a cactus too.”

“I highly recommend,” you chuckled, finding his laughter contagious. “It’s very fulfilling to watch it do absolutely nothing all-year-round.”

When the two of you got into the hallway, he paused in front of the staircase. As you were about to ask him about it, he asked, “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, I’m–”

“They look heavy.” He frowned before holding up a single finger, jogging over to his door, dropping his singular bag in front of it, and running back to you. Before you could formally protest, he grabbed the bags from your hands and began the journey up the stairs. When you froze in your spot, he turned to ask, “Well, aren’t you coming? Or were you going to sleep at mine again?”

Your face burned at the teasing comment. You decided following after him was the lesser evil. 

“There we go,” he cheered when the two of you reached your door. He rubbed his hands against his thighs a few times, awkwardly like a schoolboy, before smiling and waving goodbye. “I guess this is goodbye for the day. It was nice talking to you.”

You didn’t manage to even thank him before he was already halfway down the stairs. Maybe you made him as nervous as you made him. As you went to sleep that night, you replayed the interaction over and over again in your head, failing to hide a smile at the memory.

The valley of the mattress had a hold over you. You had never been so comfortable waking up – well, with the exception of maybe once or twice. 

The pillows were the perfect temperature, the blanket hugged you just right, the big teddy bear you hugged to your chest smelled fresh out of the washing machine– 

“Since when do I have a teddy bear?” you grumbled in confusion and pried your eyes open. You felt all blood rush away from your face as you looked at the bear – light brown with a baby blue bow, its eyes shining up at you. 

You had never even seen this bear before.

Cursing under your breath, you glanced around the room. You were back in your very own personal hell full of flowing beige curtains, white unfamiliar sheets, and teddy bears: the hell known as Seokmin’s apartment.

The realisation brought tears of frustration to your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them loose. It was barely 8 am but you were already on the verge of crying – what a joke.

Wiping your eyes, you all but slammed the bear down on the bed (you’ll never admit you did feel a little bad about it seconds later and gave it a little pat on the head) and stood up. You stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the front door. 

As you reached for the doorknob – the final obstacle on your journey out of hell –, you heard his voice, sweet as honey like always, “Oh, you’re not going to stay for breakfast?”

You froze.

“I made extra waffles and all,” he added, sounding a little dejected. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so you sighed softly and turned around to give him a tight-lipped not-quite-genuine smile. His own grin brightened at the sight. “Is that a yes? You’ll stay?”

“Only for the waffles,” you lied and took a seat at his table. 

He laughed and placed a plate of fresh food in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “Not because you don’t want me to feel bad?”

“No,” you grabbed a fork and began filling it with food, “I just don’t like food waste.”

“Oh, right! Minghao said you work for an environmental company. That sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” You swallowed your food. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

He cleared his throat as though the question had caught him by surprise and he was too shy to say. After a moment of silence, he bashfully admitted, “I’m a music teacher at primary school.”

You blinked in surprise. “A music teacher?”

“Well, I wanted to be a singer– a musical actor, actually,” he explained, his voice fluctuating in volume and his ears bright red, “but I’m a little too shy to audition. So I just stuck with teaching others to sing.”

“That’s so cool though,” you told him with a smile. “Are you good at singing?”

His ears seemed to turn an even deeper red. “My friends think so but I don’t know. I think there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

“Then why not audition? You only live once.”

He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden, watching your increasingly awkward self. You were just about ready to apologise for your possibly intrusive question when he softly asked, “Why not rest and live a little? You only live once, right?” 

The question felt awfully pointed and you didn’t fail to let him know with a glare. 

“I’m serious,” he declared, his lips pouting a little as if he was actually upset at your lack of self-care. “Whenever I see you, you’re always rushing somewhere. The only person you seem to be friends with is Sunny, and maybe Jeonghan by association.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m also friends with Minghao–”

“He barely even leaves his apartment. He doesn’t count.”

“He counts!”

“Do I count?”

“Of course you–” Your eyes widened as did his smile. 

“We’re friends now!” he declared while pointing an accusatory finger at you, his voice raising in excitement. You began to protest but he was having none of it. “No take-backs! We’re friends – you just said so!”

“I didn’t actually–”

“Nope. No. We’re friends.” He narrowed his eyes at you, his smile never fading. “Or do you just sleep in random guys’ beds?”

You wanted to protest, you really did, but there’s only so much you can say to defend yourself against such accusations. Besides, his bright smile at your defeated nod could’ve won awards.

Accidentally waking in his apartment didn’t end. No. In fact, it somehow got worse.

Once every week quickly turned into once every few days. You were tempted to start keeping track of how often you woke up in your own bed but one could assume the numbers wouldn’t be too impressive. 

You grew accustomed to the smell of his detergent and the smell of breakfast in the mornings. Was this what it might’ve been like to be in a relationship? 

“How come you’ve never dated anyone?” he wondered once over breakfast.

You shrugged. “I don’t have the time.”

“Too busy saving the world?” he teased like he often did. Over time you stopped finding it annoying (perhaps because he sounded almost genuinely proud of you every time he said it). 

“I assume you don’t get a lot of dates either,” you bit right back between bites of pancakes.

He seemed to be taken aback by your observation. “What makes you think that?”

“You sleep with a teddy bear, Seokmin,” you deadpanned. 

He pouted. “Fluffy is a premium sleep companion.”

You laughed. “Is he?”

“You steal him every other night!” he accused with a chuckle. “I’m sure you know how great he is by now.”

“He’s truly a– What did you say? A premium sleep companion?”

“That’s what the label said when I got him.”

“Maybe I should invest in a bear too,” you wondered thoughtfully between bites. 

Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

“No ti–”

“If you make the ‘no time’ excuse again, I will scream,” he said with in utmost seriousness. You promptly shut up: Seokmin’s lung capacity was well-known by everyone in the building.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “You know, if it’s physical contact that you need to sleep– Nevermind. How are the pancakes?”

Whether it was to save your or his dignity, you chose to ignore his first comment and answered only the last question, “Their colour is nicer than usual. I like the golden colour.”

“I guess the free range eggs really do make a difference,” Seokmin mused with a chuckle. When you offered him a surprised look, he hummed in confusion. “What?”

“You bought free range eggs? Didn’t you say they were too expensive last time?”

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well try to make some more ethical choices while shopping. Besides, you recommended them–”

Your eyes welled up a little. “You bought more expensive eggs because I recommended them?”

“And because I care for animals,” he added in a little too fast. 

You laughed and nodded. “For the animals, right. Me too.”

“Do you ever rest from your work?” he wondered after a moment. “What do you do outside of it?”

“I… don’t know. I read. I like to clean.”

“But what about going to festivals? Swimming? Cycling? Dancing?” He grew more and more desperate as you rejected every hobby he offered. “No wonder you’re so tired all of the time! You’re a workaholic.”

You snorted. “Sunny did say I’m similar to Jihoon.”

“I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“I think he’s worse though.”

“Oh, definitely, but he doesn’t go to sleep in his neighbours’ beds,” Seokmin pointed out with a look of worry. As he watched you for an exactly uncomfortable amount of time, his eyes eventually lit up again. “I have an idea. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“Working–”

“I swear if I hear that word one more time, I will scream.”

You, once again, promptly shut up. 

“Great,” he beamed and clapped his hands together, “I’ll text you to details later.”

“You’re not even going to tell me what we’re doing?”

You sighed in disappointment as he smiled brightly and shook his head ‘no’. 

A knock on your door notified you of his arrival. Despite being sure it wasn’t meant to be a date and knowing that Seokmin had seen you in far worse condition, you still took a deep breath and gave yourself a quick once-over at the mirror.

When you opened the door, he smiled at you brightly. “I see you’ve dressed up too.”

“I would hardly call this dressed up,” you told him rather sheepishly, suddenly even more aware of you appearance. “You look very dapper as well.”

“Yep, and do you want to know why?” 

“Why?”

His smile widened so much you worried for his cheeks. “Because you and I are going to the theatre.”

“The theatre?” You paled at the mention and looked down at your outfit. “I feel like I’m underdressed then.”

“You look fine,” he laughed and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late. And trust me,” he widened his eyes for dramatic effect, “you don’t want to be late.”

You gave in begrudgingly and locked the door as fast as you could while he practically bounced at your side in excitement. 

“What are we going to watch then?” you finally remembered to ask when you entered the theatre less than 15 minutes later. “I swear, if you dragged me here to watch an opera–”

“It’s a musical, actually,” he admitted bashfully. “I love musicals and I don’t know much about other theatre performances so I thought– But if you don’t like musicals, that’s–”

“I don’t mind musicals,” you told him with a little laugh and pat on his shoulder. “But I have to admit, it has been ages since my last time at the theatre, and I haven’t seen a musical in a few years at least.”

“That’s fine. I’ll guide you through it.” And as if the last shy bone had left his body, he grabbed your hand and led you to your seats, all the while widely smiling at you and giving your hand periodical squeezes of encouragement. 

His hand never left yours for the duration of the musical, not even for intermission, not even when he ordered cake from the theatre café to hold you over until after the show. His hand remained warm in yours, fingers squeezing a little tighter every once in a while, his thumb running over the back of your hand. 

It was so warm, so comforting. Just his presence alone was enough to make you dizzy with the feeling of safety and happiness. His touch? You were floating on cloud 9 with zero regard for what was going on below – or on the stage, for that matter.

Frankly, you could barely remember to watch the musical because you were so busy marvelling at the feel of his hand in yours. 

“That was so good,” he excitedly told you as the two of you returned to your apartment. “The music was phenomenal.”

“The actors were very good.” And that was the only contribution you could make to the conversation because you definitely hadn’t paid any attention to the plot and your knowledge of music was simply not there.

But thankfully, that seemed to be far more than enough. His eyes gleamed as he sat onto your sofa and gestured widely while speaking, “Right? The leading woman was just– Incredible, fantastic. Her range! I’m a little jealous, actually.”

You took the seat next to him. To your surprise, his hand found yours once again, wasting no time in interlocking your fingers. And just like that, paying attention to anything else became difficult. 

Were you really developing a crush on him? Just like that? You refused. You were too busy to be pining after a man. 

But when slid closer to your side and looked at you like you were the most wonderful person to ever exist, you suddenly didn’t care about the lack of time. Screw it. You’d make time if it meant you got to see his star-filled eyes again. 

“... Sorry, what?” you coughed out when he paused and looked at you expectantly.

He laughed. “You’re so cute. I asked if you wanted to go see another musical with me someday.”

“I’d love to,” you blurted out without thinking. 

Yeah. Screw deadlines. 

“Okay, perfect!” His smile brightened up the entire room as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Because I heard they’re doing Excalibur next season and I desperately need a friend to go watch it with me. I saw the premise and heard a preview of one of the songs and they’re holding auditions next month and I am already obsessed–”

Your brain was barely functioning at all, and yet you could recall one single memory from the depths of it. A dream he had shared. “Then why don’t you audition?”

He sat up abruptly, looking at you as if you were insane. “I couldn’t possibly–”

“Why not?” you asked. “I heard you singing the other day. You’re really good. I think you could get any part pretty easily.”

His ears turned more red with every word you said. “You flatter me…”

“I’m serious, Seokmin!”

“I’m not that good. And I have zero acting experience, aside from a few courses I did in college. Why would they ever pick me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” you countered and he scoffed.

“I can think of a few–”

“You never know if you don’t try,” you told him and raised your hand to brush a stray hair off his forehead. “I’m rooting for you.”

As your words faded into the night and your eyes met, you wondered if he could feel the sparks flying and bursting all around you as well. Did he also feel that overwhelming adoration for you? 

He sighed after a while, a bashful smile on his face. “You must be tired. It’s been a long night. Go to sleep.”

“I really should,” you yawned as if on cue. You shared a laugh at the timing.

He squeezed your hand one last time. “Well, good night then. I expect I’ll find you at my apartment in the morning–”

“Or you could stay here and we don’t have to worry about that,” you blurted without thinking. Your face flashed hot right after. 

Had there been any alcohol in that cake he bought for you? Why were you feeling so bold all of a sudden? 

“I–” He seemed speechless.

“I don’t know why I said that,” you rushed out and avoided his eyes. “I think I’m just really tired and work has been stressful and maybe my brain is just broke–”

He placed his hand behind your neck and led your head to rest against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You could hear his body rumble with laughter as he held you. “I’d love to stay over. Besides,” he pushed you away just enough to look you in the eyes again, “I think it’s only fair that I get to sleep over this once, because you sleep over at my place a lot.”

You frowned and pouted. “It’s not like I mean to–”

“A lot,” he repeated with wide eyes and a teasing smile before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

When you recounted the half-embarrassing and yet half-lovestruck happenings of the previous night to Sunny on the way back from work, she stared at you in bafflement.

“You actually asked him to sleep over?” she gasped, hand over her heart as if she was a peasant woman of the 16th century hearing the most scandalous gossip. “You little vixen!”

“Nothing happened,” you insistently told her as the two of you stepped off the bus.

She huffed. “That’s honestly so boring. I mean, have you seen that man? What I wouldn’t give to–”

“I am once again reminding you that you already have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t know what we’re into in the bedroom,” she countered with a smirk.

You only now realised how much Jeonghan was rubbing off on her. She was becoming a second him, slowly but surely. Couple of the year.

“I’m taking away your friend privileges, Sunny,” you told her at that and rushed ahead to avoid hearing any more weirdly Jeonghan-like jokes from her. 

She laughed at that before running after you. “Okay, okay, no more dirty jokes.”

“Thank god,” you sighed towards the sky.

“So, did any sleepwalking occur?” she then asked before humming in thought. “Well, I imagine if it had, I would’ve heard about it by now. It would’ve been quite a sight to see Seokmin running after an asleep you towards his apartment at 2 am.”

“I didn’t sleepwalk.” 

And frankly, if you had, Seokmin must have done a very good job of getting you back to your own bed because you woke up exactly how and where you fell asleep – wrapped in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

Sunny suddenly stopped in spot. Her eyes wide, her lips parted. She pointed an accusatory finger at you, “Wait, does that mean you two are dating now?”

You weren’t sure you had the answer. And you wouldn’t have time to find the answer for a while.

“Good morning!” you heard Seokmin’s voice before you even opened your eyes.

Unlike the previous few times, disappointment filled you as realisation hit. You groaned and turned over to bury your face in his numerous pillows, hoping you could suffocate yourself out of a mildly infuriating nightmare.

Seokmin clicked his tongue. “Not quite the greeting I was expecting, especially considering I was greeted with a hug the last time we shared a bed.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh, you’re mean today.”

“Did I fall asleep mid-work again?” you sighed and slowly sat up to glare at nothing in particular. Seokmin went to great lengths to avoid whatever direction to directed your deadly look to. “God, I bet I didn’t even make it to the second graph– I’m not gonna have time to go to the office for work today.”

He stared at you curiously. “So, work from home? I mean, if you have the possibility.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll get distracted and then I still won’t end up doing anything,” you whined before falling back into the pillows. You wanted to cry just at the thought of that stupid report waiting on your idle laptop. 

“Why are you so stressed about this report anyway? I don’t think you were ever this upset over any other reports.”

“If this project report goes through, and we pull off this project – which I still have to plan, oh my god, I am so far behind–”

Seokmin laughed at your frantic movements and moved over to place his hands on your shoulders and keep you still. “Hey, hey, don’t get distracted. If the project goes through…?”

You took a deep breath. “If the project goes well, I will get a promotion. Less hours, better pay.” You sighed. “Then maybe I’ll be able to get a dog like I’ve always wanted.”

“That sounds wonderful! We should celebrate with breakfast,” he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

But as tempting as it sounded, you simply didn’t have any time to chat. You had work to do. And so, you stood up, fixed your hair, gave Seokmin an affectionate yet half-hearted pat on the back and headed for the door. 

You couldn’t wait to spend your day in complete lonely misery. At work you at least had friends to talk between sections. All you had in your apartment was Bertha and instant coffee.

And it was as if Seokmin knew it just from the way you spoke to him that morning. 

When the clock struck twelve, you heard a timid knock on your door. Confused at the noise and a little disoriented from the five pages of words you had written, you stood up and went to the door. 

Your heart grew three sizes when you saw him standing there, looking so awfully huggable in his large white hoodie and grey sweatpants, glasses on his nose accompanied by a kind smile. You were so surprised to find him there that you failed to consider why he came. 

He had to nudge you with the plastic bag he was holding for you to even notice it.

“Sorry,” you stammered and stepped aside to let him in, “I’m just a little-”

“Stress? Overworked? Confused because you’ve been staring at a 15-inch screen for the past three hours?” he suggested and brought the bag to the kitchen. “That’s okay. Don’t even mind me.” He smiled as he nodded towards your laptop. “Go on. Work waits. The sooner you get to it, the sooner it’ll be done.”

Disoriented as you were, you didn’t dare argue and slowly walked back to your previous seat at the coffee table, all the while watching him cautiously. 

As your fingers landed on the keyboard, he began lifting things out of the bag. You watched in awe as he stacked snacks and vegetables onto the counter. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he lifted his head to glare at you. “Work.”

“Work,” you repeated on instinct and turned back to your laptop. He laughed a little at your robotic tone. 

Some 20 minutes later, you felt a presence next to you. When you turned to face it, Seokmin was holding an fruit slice up at your lips. 

“Eat,” he told you softly. You did as told.

“What are you doing?” you asked between confused laughter and chewing. Your eyes landed on the bowl of fruits he had placed in front of you. 

He shrugged. “Taking care of you. You seemed so upset this morning… I thought it would be nice to spend my free day helping you.”

Your eyes widened. “It’s your free day? And you’re here? You should be resting!”

“Watching you is all the rest I need,” he winked playfully before lifting another fruit to your lips. “Now, eat up. This is lunch. I’ll make something better for dinner.”

“You don’t have to–” 

He took this chance to shove a piece of apple into your mouth, effectively interrupting your speech. “I will, and I don’t care what you say.”

He glanced around the apartment as you began to eat the fruits on your own. “When was the last time you opened a window?”

You watched curiously as he stood up (with a groan because his bones simply weren’t as nimble as they used to be) and headed over to the windows, opening a few to air out the room. As he did so, he told you, “They say that good airflow and fresh air help the thought process. We air out the classrooms between every lesson so the next students won’t get too tired.”

“I don’t think I’ve opened any windows in here since I first moved in,” you confessed before turning back to your laptop. Before you could your train of thought again, a soft fabric was placed on your shoulders. You looked up to find him smiling at you brightly. “So you won’t get cold.”

“What about you then?”

He shrugged and winked. “I’ll just consider this my daily walk in the park.” He then looked around the apartment again, as if looking for something to do. You couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“Maybe… you could… make me a cup of tea?” you suggested.

He lit up at the idea. “Coming right up!”

Before heading to the kitchen, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. It seemed almost like a reflex – like he didn’t even need to think about doing it. 

Relishing in the leftover warmth of his lips and the feel of his hoodie on your skin, your work took a backseat for a while. Instead of thinking about your project of a lifetime, your brain was drowning in one singular question. You glanced towards the kitchen to watch him, a smile appearing on your face as you did. 

“Seokmin?” you called out softly after a moment. 

He hummed in response immediately, eyes lifting from the cup he was preparing so he could offer you an encouraging smile. 

You took a deep breath. “What are we?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“You and I. What are we to each other?” you wondered, unable to look away from him. There was something you badly wanted to hear him say and yet feared at the same time. “What are you to me?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I… I’ll be whatever you’d like me to be.”

“Whatever? A friend?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he breathed out, a little shakier than before.

“What about a lover?”

He smiled. “If you so wish.”

“Then… what do you want me to be?” you asked him quietly, a part of you praying your words would go missing in the incoming wind before they reached him. 

“I just…” He bit his lip in contemplation, ears turning red, and avoided your eyes.

“What do you want me to be to you, Seokmin?” you repeated your question, a little bolder this time, hope sparking in your heart.

He looked up again, into your eyes. “Mine.” You let out a breath – of relief or fear, you weren’t sure – but he didn’t hesitate when he repeated, “I want you to be mine.”

You felt guilty for the words you’d utter next. “But we don’t have the time for that…”

“That’s okay,” he assured you with a kind smile. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Slow? How slow do we take it?”

“As slow as you need. I’m not leaving.”

“I signed up for the auditions,” he told you over breakfast a few days later. “Jihoon’s helping me prepare.”

You were still neck-deep in your project, struggling to meet the deadlines and coordinate your team. This seemed to lead the asleep you to Seokmin’s apartment more often than not. It was almost like you woke up in his bed every morning now. 

But even in your despair, you couldn’t help but be excited for Seokmin.

Your eyes lit up and a squeal came out as you grabbed his hand over the table. “Really? You did?!”

He used his free hand to rub the back of his neck bashfully. “Well, you said I should give it a try, right? Who knows,” he shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant or even fake a little bit of confidence, “maybe they’ll give me a part.”

“I’m sure they will,” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “Your voice is amazing and you’re so handsome – the ladies are going to swoon when they see you on the stage.”

He laughed. “Will you be one of those ladies?”

“I’ll be in the front row,” you solemnly promised. “At every show. You’ll get sick of seeing me.”

“I could never,” he assured you.

Seokmin’s audition would take place two weeks later. You made sure the mark the day with a big red circle on your calendar – on all three of them, in fact. And now it was time.

Between your seemingly endless stream of project complications and Seokmin’s daytime job and audition preparations, you barely saw him. If it weren’t for your persistent sleepwalking problem, you wouldn’t have seen him at all. And so, the curse had became a blessing. 

“You’ll do great,” you assured him minutes after waking up in his bed. You made sure to give him the warmest hug before letting him leave the room. “I believe in you. And so does Jihoon, apparently.”

Seokmin pouted. “Did he say that or are you lying to make me feel better?”

“We talked yesterday,” you told him, appalled that he’d even accuse you of such atrocities. “He said he has complete faith that you’ll do well.”

“I don’t believe you but–”

“Do you want to fight me? Already?” You raised a brow and he shook his head immediately. “Exactly. Just accept the compliment. And don’t forget to call me when you finish, okay?”

“Of course,” he promised.

He kept that promise. Just as he stepped out of the theatre, his shaky hands picked up the phone and chose your number. 

You answered the call with prep in your voice. It had been a good day so far and you were expecting to hear his no-doubt joyous retellings of the audition.

What you weren’t expecting was: “Can you come get me? I think I might cry.”

“Why, why?” Despite your words, you didn’t hesitate to slam your laptop closed and grab your jacket. “Are you okay? Were they mean?”

“They weren’t mean,” he mumbled on the other side of the line, “but I don’t think I did well.”

“I’m sure you did wonderful,” you spoke while rushing down the street. Thankfully, the theatre was barely a five-minute walk from your office – half that at your current pace. “You’re just putting yourself down over nothing.”

Seokmin whined. “You’re seriously overestimating me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. You overestimate me.”

As you crossed the street, you noticed a familiar figure dragging his feet along the pavement, head low and shoulders slumped. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because you like me a little more than you should,” he suggested while kicking a pebble. You could already hear his voice even without the phone. “I’m sure the directors think I’m a joke or something. God, I am so–”

“Don’t you dare say another bad word about yourself,” you scolded him with a gentle slap against the back of his head. 

He stared at you in bewilderment – both from the fact that you might as well have appeared from thin air and the fact that you just did that. 

But you were unrelenting in your affection for him. “Lee Seokmin, listen to me: you did absolutely great. You did your best. And even if you don’t get a part this time, they’ll value the fact that you now have experience with auditions. Take it in stride.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. Before long, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you impossibly tight. “You’re just saying that… Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, silly,” you laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. “I think we should celebrate this occasion.”

“Even if I screwed up and don’t get the part?”

You scoffed. “Absolutely! A little cake can make everything better, no?”

He sighed. “I don’t think I can eat right now. I might throw up from the nerves.”

“Drink then?”

He contemplated and then straightened up. “I could go for some bubble tea…”

“There we go!” you cheered and gently pinched his cheeks, prompting a small giggle. “My treat because you did so well today and I’m so proud of you.”

This time it was you who grabbed his hand without any hesitation, more than happy to reassuringly squeeze it as you walked and talked. 

“When will you get the answer?” you wondered.

He sucked in a breath. “In about a week, they said. Or maybe never–”

“Seokmin,” you scolded.

“In a week,” he corrected himself with some enthusiasm. “I’ll get answers in a week. And then I might actually cry.”

“And I’ll be there when you cry tears of joy, darling.”

“Tears of joy?” He raised a brow and smiled in disbelief. “You seriously put too much faith in me.”

You nudged his side. “As if you haven’t been equally supportive about my promotion.”

“Oh, right,” Seokmin gasped, “won’t your promotion interview be in a week too?”

You would’ve preferred he didn’t remind you. Then again, you guessed it was only fair. 

“Will you come over to hold me when I cry too?”

“Tears of joy?” he teased and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I’ll be just a call away.”

The week somehow passed at both the pace of a snail and the pace of Junhui on a sugar rush. 

After finding you in his bed every single morning, Seokmin resorted to just sleeping over at your place, tightly cuddling you to keep you in place. He now had a whole drawer dedicated to his things in your bedroom. 

The day started okay. You were awoken not by a loud alarm like you had expected, but by Seokmin gently singing you awake. 

For a moment, you thought you had died and gone straight to heaven – maybe working so hard to save the environment had paid off after all, you thought. But no, it was just your reality. 

What a beautiful reality. You couldn’t help but smile as you cuddled into his chest.

“If you keep clinging onto me like that, I won’t be able to make my famous waffles for a lucky breakfast,” he whispered but made no attempt to push you away. 

The delicious breakfast was followed by an encouraging hug on the way out of the building, him to the school and you to the office. You wore a smile the entire time.

Up until you made it to your desk. Then the reality began sinking in. 

This was the day that could make or break your career. The day you had worked so hard for that you neglected your private life for so many years.

As the clock on the wall slowly ticked forward, your hands began to shake. Your throat was dry. Your head was fuzzy, full of nothing but anxiety. If someone had asked you about anything, you would’ve only been able to stare at them with a mouth wide open.

20 minutes until your scheduled interview. You were starting to feel sick. 

When another colleague came to give you a supportive pat on the back, you excused yourself and grabbed your phone to rush outside to the balcony. You sat on a chair and willed yourself to take deep breaths as you tapped on his number.

You wanted to slap yourself when you realised that you hadn’t even bothered to check if he was on break yet.

But he answered on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? Did you have the interview alread–”

“Seokmin, I can’t do this,” you whimpered into the microphone. “I can’t do this. They’re gonna realise I’m an idiot and they’ll fire me and–”

“Woah, woah, what happened to your positive can-do attitude?” he wondered. “You’ll be fine.”

“No–”

“(Y/n),” he said your voice so firmly that your breath got caught in your throat. “(Y/n), you will be fine. You’ve worked there for so many years, you’ve achieved so many things. If they wanted to fire you, they would’ve done that by now.”

You took a shaky breath. “What if it’s an elaborate prank?”

“Why would– Baby, listen to me. You’ve worked hard. You put everything you had into that project – I was there, I saw it. You and your ideas are invaluable to your company. They’re going to ask you a few questions as a formality and they’re going to give that promotion and then you and I are going to go to a celebratory dinner and it’ll all be over.”

“And I can get a dog?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You can get two dogs if you want, baby,” he laughed. “You deserve it. Don’t underestimate yourself. I believe in you and I’m sure your co-workers do as well.”

“How do you always know the right words to say?”

He laughed once again. “Baby, I’m a teacher. I’m literally trained to comfort people. I’m just glad I’m able to comfort you as well.”

“Thank you.”

“No need,” he responded, “just go and ace that interview. Okay?”

“And then you’ll come and wipe my happy tears?”

“You already know the answer to that question. But I expect the same treatment when I get my audition results.”

“Will do.”

“Go and get them, tiger.”

You weren’t sure what it was, but something about the conversation seemed to have lifted the weight off your shoulders. When you walked back to the office, the upcoming interview no longer felt as taunting. 

As the clock hit 2 pm, you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and headed to your manager’s office.

When the day ended, you found Seokmin standing in front of the office building, a blinding smile on his face. 

“Well?” he asked expectantly, though the look in his eyes said that he had every faith that you would only give him good news. You were glad to prove him right. 

Your coy smile was replaced with joyous laughter as you ran to hug him and called out, “I got the job!”

“You got it? You got it!” he cheered with you, jumping up and down with you in his arms, not far from spinning you around in the air. “I knew you would! What did I tell you? Silly you,” he let you out of his hold to place his hands on your cheeks and pull your face closer to his own, “you thought you wouldn’t get the promotion. Look at you now. I’m so proud of you.”

You breathed out in relief. The smile seemed to never stop tugging on your cheeks. “I’m so relieved I could cry.”

“Then who will dry my happy tears?” he teased with a bright smile.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Wait–”

“I got the part,” he whispered, his smile only growing wider, eyes sparkling. “I’m going to become a musical actor, officially.”

“Oh my god!” you practically squealed and now it was your turn to hug him and jump. He was glad to join you, laughing in glee. “I knew you could do it! I knew it!”

As joy got the best of you – and who could blame you: this was the happiest day of your life so far –, you grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you to press your lips against his own. He melted into the gesture, arms wrapping around you tighter as if to will the moment to last forever. 

When you pulled back, just enough so that your noses touched, he laughed in disbelief. “I thought we were supposed to take it slow?”

“Screw taking it slow,” you whispered and kissed him again. “Might as well make it a triple celebration.”

“I like the sound of that.”

BONUS !

While practically leaning out of their open window to watch you and Seokmin kiss under the streetlights on your way home, Jeonghan and Sunny argued.

“I told you they would get together,” Sunny declared, her eyebrows raised as if to dare her boyfriend to prove her wrong. 

Jeonghan scoffed. “Please. They’re just kissing. It could be casual.”

“Just say you don’t want to owe me 20 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you 20 bucks! We have no confirmation!”

“Jeonghan, listen here–”

“No, no, you listen–”

“Both of you listen here!” Chan bellowed from the window above them. “If you don’t stop arguing right now, I will report you both to Jihoon’s parents! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Silence followed. “And pay her the 20 bucks, Jeonghan. They’re clearly together.”

Jeonghan grumbled and glared upwards before fishing a 20 out of his pocket and handing it to his smiling girlfriend.

[aviiarie]

Hi avieee! I am making a request this time. So uhm I really really like your that lost & found platonic arle x reader. So I am wondering if you can do a part 2 of that? Like what happens after reader is rescued? The Fontaine trio reactions? Does Arle go into overprotective mama bear mode?

😶‍🌫️

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AFTERWORD. platonic fonatine siblings, arlecchino & reader !

synopsis. (sequel to lost & found. read that one first.) [name] is reunited with their siblings. contents. PLATONIC. aftermath of kidnapping. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1k words. notes. i wanted to make this a sort of epilogue, so apologies if it is a little short!

“[Name]!”

Their eyes opened with a flutter, still in a haze halfway between sleep and consciousness. The call of their name was their only warning before they were tackled in their hospital bed by a blur of black and red, crying out in alarm at the sudden weight falling on top of them. In their daze, it took a moment for them to realize who it was.

“L-Lyn—Lyney?” they managed to stammer out, wheezing as he squeezed them in a much too tight hug.

“[Name]! You’re back!” Lyney clasped their face in his hands and peppered kisses to the top of their head, like an overly affectionate grandmother who hasn’t seen their dearest grandchild in years. They shoved at him weakly, rolling their eyes at his over-the-top show of affection. He wasn’t fazed, laughing hoarsely through his tears. “You’re alive. Gods, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Don’t be a pest, Lyney,” Lynette scolded as she entered the room as well, but she was barely looking at him. Her focus was set squarely on them, tears brimming in her eyes. “[Name]. I am… very relieved you are back.”

“I’m never letting you leave my sight again,” Lyney whispered, pressing his forehead to theirs. There was a shakiness behind his melodramatic display, a fragility behind his theatrics. The experience seemed to have shaken him far more than he was willing to admit. He moved off them, giving them room to breathe as Lynette hurried over to their beside.

“Never,” Lynette promised, settling on their other side. She leaned down to bump her head against the top of theirs, curling her tail around their leg.

“Is there… room in there for me…?” a quiet voice sounded from the doorway. They all looked up, as Freminet nervously knocked on the already opened door.

“Of course, come here!” Lyney stood abruptly, stepping back to make room for Freminet to squeeze in. He slipped into the space between them and Lyney, turning the four of them into something that was partially an awkward huddle, and partially a group hug. Lynette was still on their left, shoulders brushing. Freminet had circled their waist in a clumsy hug with his cheek pressed against their shoulder. And Lyney settled himself on the edge of the bed, draping an arm over the bed board.

“I really don’t think there’s enough room for all of us—” They tried, but Lyney shushed them.

“There’s room enough,” He said, patting their cheek. “And don’t think for a minute you’re getting rid of us so quickly after what happened.”

The siblings all seemed to stiffen up at his mention of the ordeal, himself included. For Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, it was sharp and clear in their memories, along with the lingering feeling of dread that came with losing one of their own for so long.

But for them, the entire experience was a haze. There was a distant pain throbbing in the back of their head, the phantom feeling of someone hitting them with something hard. Beyond that was a blur between being dumped on the cold, hard floor, and feeling warm hands pull them into a familiar set of arms.

“…Good.” They said quietly, resting their chin atop Freminet’s head. “I don’t want any of you to leave, just yet.”

-----

Arlecchino’s heels clicked loudly, sounding an alarm to all of the children loitering in the halls. After years in her care, they had learned to predict her mood from just the sound of her shoes, and the hurried clacks echoing off the walls told them clear as day that she was not in the mood for anything to interrupt her.

She brushed past the eyes that peeked out from the doorways, vanishing as soon as she grew close. She didn’t care to scold them for being nosy; they didn’t matter to her. There was only one person who mattered in that moment.

When she opened the door, Lyney was the only one that looked to be awake. The other two were curled around [Name], all three fast asleep in a pile of limbs and blankets. Lynette was lying on top of the blankets, one arm thrown over the other two siblings, while Freminet was clinging to [Name]’s waist so tightly that it was a wonder they were still breathing.

They looked like a pile of kittens taking a mid-morning nap together. The sight was endearing enough for the corner of her lips to twitch, almost forming a smile.

Lyney had settled himself in the chair beside them, resting his feet on the edge of the bed. His arm was stretched out to carefully run his hand through their hair, in the same gentle routine he used to help his sister fall asleep when they were young. The sound of the door opening made him look up, and he greeted her with a nod.

“They’re alright?” Arlecchino asked quietly.

“They’re alright.” Lyney answered with a tired smile, pulling his hand back to rest on his lap.

“Good.” She swept into the room, standing over their sleeping form. The blankets hid the majority of their injuries, but there was a flash of white bandages peeking out from where their skin was exposed.

Arlecchino brushed her thumb across their forehead. She knew they most likely were too deeply asleep to hear her, but it didn’t stop her from murmuring, “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.”

The words made them stir slightly. It was slow at first, a small furrow in their brow and a twitch of their lips, but it was soon followed by a murmur. Their eyes opened a crack, meeting hers.

“Father…?” They mumbled lowly.

“Shh…” Arlecchino hushed them with a whisper, still tracing her thumb across their face. The slow, soothing motion had its desired effect; their eyes were already sliding shut. “Quiet, get some rest. You’re safe now. They won’t ever hurt you again.”

She leaned down and kissed their head, leaving her lips hovering above their skin for a moment to whisper, “Never again.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[jonasiegenthaler]

"I mean, people just figure your pp out at some point"

[haoboutyou]

foolish one (stop checking your mailbox) | joshua hong

fluff, slightly suggestive | 1154 words | some cursing

a/n: wifey @bluehoodiewoozi: "if you write me an encouraging boyfriend shua x burnt out uni student y/n fic, i'll be the happiest woman on earth" except I wrote none of that :D

The university has dedicated study rooms all around campus, providing a conducive space for students to catch up on their coursework, computer work, or reading. It’s a great place to comfortably work on thesis papers without the stuffy silence of the library, or the rowdiness of the campus courtyard. It is not, unfortunately, a good place to audibly express disappointment every 10 minutes.

Joshua can’t take it anymore. How many times does he have to watch you check your phone whenever a notification pops up, how many times does that hopeful look on your face morph into disappointment when it was just another push-ad from a shopping app? 

He’s just about had it when you let out an audible sigh for the nth time, once again disrupting your supposedly productive study session. And so he bites the bullet, hoping that whatever it is that is distracting you from completing that dreaded thesis is worth all the sighing for.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Huh?” You look up from the laptop, annoyed that he distracted you just as you were about to concentrate.

Right on cue your phone lights up. He snatches the phone faster than you could reach for– it prompts a disgruntled “Shua no!” out of you. Joshua gives the notification a once over before he places the phone screen-up, crossing his arms. 

“You can’t possibly be waiting for–” He squints at the screen, reading out the pop-up banner. “ ‘60% off your next coffee’– Oh… That’s a really good deal.” He looks back up at you, watching as you sink back into your seat at the announcement. “Anyways, you’re clearly not waiting for the coffee. Spill.”

A minute of silence passes as Joshua watches you gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing but unable to find the right words to convey your current dilemma.

“...It’s Lucas–“ 

“You’re still talking to him?!” His disrupted yell earns him multiple death stares from others in the study room. 

You wince at his outburst, but you know it comes from a good place. Lucas, despite being known as the worst frat boy to come out of this university, is also the smoothest talker; somehow, he manages to get every girl on campus swooning at his feet. Joshua personally thinks he’s just a load of bullshit, that you could do better than that walking STD stick. Still,  he sighs when he sees your downcast look, staring blankly ahead at your dimmed laptop screen. 

“Y/n, he’s a player. You got a taste of his dick once and it was good, sure, but you didn’t mean anything to him. I’m serious!”

You hate the connotation that came with his words– it felt like he was calling you a whore. Your brows furrow deeper. You know he didn’t mean to, but it still sounds like that, and it still hurts. 

He realises his mistake almost immediately because as soon as those words come out, he backpedals on them so fast.

“No wait, I– I didn’t mean–” He’s instantly shut down by you, cutting through him like a knife.

You avoid looking straight into Joshua’s eyes, fighting the magnetic pull towards his chocolate eyes. Your next words are soft enough that he has to strain his ears to pick them up. “He isn’t like that though. He said what we had was different! He said I was special, that–“

“That no other girl could compare to you? Y/n, he says that to everyone!” Joshua’s exasperated. His heart breaks a little when he spots how glassy your eyes have become, but he presses on, wanting to tell you the hard truth. “Do you know what he does back at the frat house? He marches around, boasting about how many he’s slept with and what they’re like in bed. He shares those stories like some kind of sick trophy. He’s a disgusting, sorry excuse of a man!” 

Joshua leans forward across the table, engulfing your small hands with his. He rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, trying to comfort you when notices silent tears running down your face.

“No…” You hiccup, trying to get your words across your sniffles. “I swear, I can change him!” Even you know how ridiculous you sound; there's no changing a fratboy so set in his ways like Lucas. You slump over your laptop, begrudgingly wallowing over your words. You sigh. It’s impossible. You’re just a hopeless romantic chasing after the affections of a man who gave you an ounce of attention.

“I really thought he was gonna be the one, Shua.”

 “There, there. You could do so much better and you know it. Don’t be so foolish!”

“Like who?!” You can’t help but snap at him. You’re desperate, of course; trying to shield your already humiliated and broken heart from his harsh (albeit truthful) words.

His voice drops to a whisper. 

“Like me?”

His grip on you hardens. There’s determination and endearment directed straight at you, that you’ve never noticed before, pouring through his eyes. He gulps; his biggest secret is out. The long-time crush he’s been harbouring on you is now public– to you, at least.

“I can treat you better.” He reaches out to wipe a tear from your cheek, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

You sigh. You’re doing a lot of that today; it's becoming a bit pathetic. “Shua, I'm not in the mood for you joking–”

“I’m not! Hell, I’m already letting you wear my jacket!” He tries to be serious, gesturing to the oversized jacket he lent you earlier, that envelops you around your shoulders. 

He heaves a sigh of relief when you let out a chuckle. His large hands find yours again. You feel yourself calming down, but your cheeks still heat up from his sudden proximity. 

You cock your head to the side. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I mean–” You gesture to the space between you. “Before all this?”

“Because you looked so happy, and I was afraid of ruining it all.” A shy smile graces his face. “Let me make up for it, please?”

You hold your stare, making him wait in anticipation. Finally, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you reply. 

“Buy me lunch, and I’ll think about it.”

“Lunch? Yeah, I can do that.” He can’t help but full-on grin at you. Standing up to gather his things, he extends a hand to pull you up. Ever the gentleman, you think. 

“Lucas was pretty good in bed though. Think you can one-up that?” You joke.

Joshua pulls you into his chest, one arm wrapping around you while the other picks up your bag. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you an even better time later.” 

“Later…?” Your voice trails as you let him whisk you away for lunch. He wiggles his brows at you, mischievous demeanour unveiling. 

And so, your thesis remains incomplete yet another day.

[byfulcrums]

all angst aside, the fact that they are not much more than stupid teenagers gets to me sometimes. they would walk on the bridge and suguru would tell satoru he'd fall if he wasn't too careful. they were flying on one of suguru's curses and suguru pushed him off. gojo accidentally TPd(? them onto the sky and they almost became human pancakes. the entire class would go to arcades --- they'd buy everything from the vending machines, steal food from grocery stores and then coming back to pay them later

gimme sashisu complaining about homework. shoko and satoru hanging out in suguru's room because he's the only one with a fan. they go to class in the morning and spend the rest of the day half asleep, with satoru complaining all the time. they listen to shitty music and make fun of it. they call each other stupid all the time. they skip class and get punished for it later

satoru would turn off his infinity only to share an umbrella with suguru. sashisu made fun of nanami's haircut and haibara would defend him. gojo would tease utahime to the point where she actually threw a sharpened knife at him. they're people and they smell after running and they throw each other in lakes and get into food fights. they pranked each other and filmed it. gojo would sing at the top of his lungs to annoy nanami

[full---ofstarlight]

in a lowtown back alley somewhere...

--

commissioned @theredtrails to draw this dirty sexy avis x anders piece that i had a vision of and needed to see come to life >:) i think i said something about how avis was teasing him wherever the heck they were and they couldn't even make it back home because they're freaks like that

im sooo jazzed with how it came out!!!!! :3c

[disastertwins9000]

.

[whumpsoda]

Shuffles over

What if the hero was the toughest to break in the forced family whump, esp since whumper had to condition out higher cognitive function, so when the hero was broken whumper presented hero to the youngest as a present

cw: brainwashed whumpees, infantilization, dehumanization, lady whumpee

——————

Jasper, as focused as he could be with glazed over eyes and a hazy, sluggish mind, kept his vision stuck to his scribbled out crayon drawing even as a knock sounded from beyond his bedroom door.

The door soon enough cracked open with a creeking groan, Avis and Doyle poking inside, finally prompting him to pick up his gaze. “Can we come in?” Doyle asked gently, two bright smiles spread over his parent’s faces.

“S- sure…” Jasper nodded, head lolling around his neck like a bobble head. He was still getting used to everything, especially trailing off most of the medicines his father had him on. He didn’t know what exactly they were helping him with, but that wasn’t for a little kid to worry about.

Both stepping aside as the door was nudged open, his parents gestured to a large brown box with holes poked all around the sides. A present. “I know it’s a little late, but it took me a good while to prepare this for you.”

“Wh… what?” 

Doyle chuckled at his innocent confusion. “Open it.” 

Carefully and lazily Jasper crawled over to the box, settling to his knees before it. He adjusted the tight collar of his pink shirt while brushing his hair out from his eyes with a crayon debris covered hand, before lifting up the top.

There, curled into himself as he panted and drooled happily with a bright red bow tied around his perfect pink collar, was a dog.

A small, insignificant and irritating voice in the back of Jasper’s mind couldn’t understand how he knew it was a dog, even though he could see it clearly with his own two eyes. Per usual, he simply ignored any bad thoughts that tried to interrupt him.

With a face full of excitement he lit up, gasping with joy before he pulled his gift into a sloppy hug. “Puh… puppy! Puppy!” Jasper giggled along with his parents as his new dog licked eagerly at his cheeks, ready to climb out of the box and sit on the man’s lap. “What… ‘s hisss… name…?” Jasper questioned, unable to read the dog’s tag.

“Hiro.” Avis replied, sitting on her former teammate's new bed beside her old nemesis, not much of even a subtle instant that any of this was as terribly wrong as it was.

Jasper nodded, petting his new puppy all the way from his hair down his spine, receiving only purrs of happiness.

A perfect little family, perfectly put together.

——————

Taglist - @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[avirael]

The Price of Failure

“Seven hells, A‘viloh! Open the damn door right now! I am worried about you, you idiot!”

After Haurchefant’s death the Miqo’te had locked himself up in a room at the Forgotten Knight and had barely spoken to anyone at all these last few days.

Go away - This is all my fault - They must hate me so - Stay away from me - I don’t want you to get hurt too.

With this and similar sentences, which Rael had day by day only heard muffled through the closed door, A’viloh had tried to get rid of them. Rael had expected the Miqo’te to blame himself for what had happened, they had even understood that A’viloh in his bizarre sense of self-loathing had decided to leave Fortemp Manor to not cause anyone any more pain. Anyone except himself of course.

Once again Rael felt so powerless seeing how A’viloh apparently saw all his fears confirmed, that as soon as he was involved in something, everything would eventually go horribly wrong and people would get hurt. Of course that was nonsense. But with the “evidence” at hand - and the poor Miqo’te really was a pretty unlucky fellow in this regard - it was also quite difficult to argue against it.

Seemingly he had also stopped letting Rael convince him of the opposite as they usually had so far. At least he had still talked to them. Through closed doors, but at least he had not ignored Rael entirely in another attempt to drive them away.

Well, not until today…

Another time Rael’s fist loudly drummed against the door.

“I swear, if you don’t open this damn door right now, I will break it down!”

Maybe getting angry at him was not going to encourage him any more than politely asking had but by now Rael’s patience reached its end.

“You are looking for the young Miqo’te, who’s living here since a few days, don’t you?”, a voice asked and Rael turned around to find the owner of the inn standing at the end of the corridor. “I saw you two together with mistress Tataru before.”

“I am.”, Rael confirmed and tried to look a little less like some hooligan about to trash the inn and attack its guests. “I am just worried about him…”

“Mhhh…”, the Elezen made a contemplating sound. “Well, all I can tell you is that your friend left a few hours ago and hasn’t returned since.”

“Left?!”, Rael blurted out, while their mind began to race. “To where?”

“That I don’t know, I am sorry…”, the man apologised.

It may have looked impolite but Rael left in a hurry without another word. Barely back outside they paused and realised that Ishgard was too big to just aimlessly run around and look for him. But where could he have gone?

At First Rael hurried to the chocobo stables. Somehow they had hoped to find him here cuddled to the bird Haurchefant had gifted him. It had been a naive hope, that of course proved wrong.

Then they ran to the city gates asking the guards if they had seen a person fitting A’viloh’s description leave the city and after that they did the same at the airship landing. Both times unsuccessful.

By now the sun, that had spent most of the day hidden by thick grey clouds, was slowly surrendering her last weak rays of light to the darkness of night. The lack of light would make searching even more difficult and Rael was out of ideas. Where else would A’viloh go?, they wondered when one last horrible idea crossed their mind.

As fast as Rael could they hurried back to the upper parts of the city, where at its highest point stood one of the most important places in town: The Vault.

The place where Haurchefant had been killed while trying to protect A‘viloh.

In a way it would be just like A’viloh to return here, if only to inflict more pain on himself and punish himself in the process. However as Rael walked towards the tall building they noticed the entrance had been sealed with a barrier and additionally a guard was stationed in front, informing Rael that the building remained closed for now due to ongoing investigations of the happenings around Thordan and his knights.

The guard hadn’t seen any Miqo’te around either and so Rael began to wonder what to do now. They could return to Fortemps Manor and ask Alphinaud and Tataru for help. Maybe even Artoirel and Emmanellain. Or go to the headquarters of the Temple Knights and speak to Ser Aymeric. Although every soldier in the city searching for A‘viloh possibly was a little exaggerated, this idea began to look more and more tempting to Rael with every passing minute. There was a nervousness inside their heart, a bad feeling, that was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

Rael had just walked down the first set of stairs when suddenly something in the cold night air changed. A strong breeze picked up, wind howling through the streets like a ghost. Feeling the strangeness of this sudden change Rael looked up to the night sky, where for a second they thought they saw the form of a bird circling in front of the glimmer of stars.

Then they blinked and it was gone. A shiver ran down Rael‘s spine. The feeling familiar but nonetheless in this case strangely unsettling, they gasped and almost stumbled. Their vision blurred for a moment and their eyes turned milky white, as Rael‘s mind was forcefully pulled away by a sudden vision.

Rael found themself standing on a square somewhere in Ishgard. It seemed familiar and Rael thought they recognised it from somewhere near Fortemps Manor. The air felt unreasonably chilling even through their warm clothes and Rael only slowly adjusted to the feeling of having a vision after none of them had shown up for so long.

Then Rael saw A’viloh.

There he stood, only a few steps away, at the edge of the square, where the higher parts of the city bordered onto the vast, foggy nothingness of the Holy Sea. But the Miqo’te’s tear-stained gaze was not focused on the bottomless depth below, but on the moon and the stars above.

This world… wouldn’t it be better off without me in it? No one would miss me at all…

A‘viloh did not say this aloud but Rael heard his voice just as clearly as if he had spoken instead of just thought it. It made Rael’s blood freeze in their veins.

Like petrified they watched A’viloh slowly raising his arms as if they were wings, like a bird that wanted to take flight.

Just that he wasn’t flying.

He was falling.

In an unnaturally slow motion he tilted forward, falling into the abyss and while Rael began to scream he was already gone.

[epersonae]

top five taz ships in order??? -miz

in order? idk if this is in order of anything other than "order they occur to me"

Magnus/Lucretia (I am required by law to first list the ship I more or less invented in the spring of 2017) (first they are young and dumb, then they are middle-aged and haunted by the past!)

Taako/Kravitz (enemies to lovers speedrun, featuring canonical tentacles)

Taako/Magnus (listen) (seriously tho taagnus was some of the first fic I read in the winter of 2016/17!) (also Kravitz/Taako/Magnus is god tier imho)

Lup/Barry (Griffin's speech in the Legato episode? one of the readings at my wedding)

Merle/Davenport (I love my weird gay dads)

[ask me my top 5/top 10 anything]

[z0rr1ta]

phoenix on game notes

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Where’s the Fun in That?

Yoon Jeonghan x Reader (gender not specified)

Genre: fluff, coming of age

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: some stronger language. one tiny mental breakdown. some tears are shed. some mail is stolen. food mentions.

[Series: Serenity Street 17]  The mailman keeps mixing up your mail nearly every day. The guy who gets your mail often demands a gift of some sort in return for your stuff.

[Your package has been delivered…]

The notification lit up on your phone screen and you would have squealed with joy had you not been on a crowded bus home. Finally! Your long-awaited new bluetooth speaker was finally home.

There was a skip in your step all the way home. Though the sun had already gone to rest, you had no qualms with the dim streetlights that shone on your way. The weekend was here and so was the package you had been waiting all week. What was there not to be happy about?

The journey home quickly came to an end and, before you even realised, you were facing the worn light blue front door of Serenity Street 17. It creaked in a cheerful manner, welcoming you home – or so you liked to believe, no matter what Jihoon tried to tell you. 

You held back a laugh as the man in question practically crawled out the door of 1B with an indignant look on his face. You offered a wave and he returned the gesture with a frown as he passed you on his way to the grocery store.

But even his sour mood couldn’t tamper yours. The way up the stairs was easier than ever, and you smiled all through it.

And then it happened. 

The greatest disappointment of your week. The worst heart-break of your entire life. The start of your supervillain arc.

“What?!” you practically screeched when you reached your apartment. The doormat – the very same one where your package was supposedly delivered – was just as empty as when you left it.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, clasped your hands tightly together, said a quiet prayer, and opened your eyes again. Nothing still. The doormat was empty, and there were no new boxes or envelopes within a metre of you. 

There must have been a mistake. You checked the golden number on the door. It read 2C – this was your door. 

“Maybe I’m in the wrong building?” you guessed in your panic, unwilling to believe that your new extra fancy bluetooth speaker had not been delivered to your apartment, or worse. 

But before you could fully reach for that tiny little glimmer of hope, you remembered the sour look on Jihoon’s face. It was definitely Jihoon’s face; there was no mistaking it – you were in the correct building, in front of the correct door, and you did not have your new bluetooth speaker.

In a desperate attempt to figure out the issue, you reached into your pocket and took out your phone. The minimised delivery notification was still happily standing on your screen. You decided to open and check it. 

Your heart dropped all while anger bubbled inside of you as you read the full message. 

[Your package has been delivered to Serenity Street 17, apartment 5B.]

You were beyond fuming now. How had the deliveryman misread the address so much? 

“5B?” You groaned at the thought of climbing three whole floors for a mishandled. Still, you took a deep breath of courage and set on your way up the stairs, all the while wondering, “Who lives in 5B anyway? Was it Hyesoo?” 

You found yourself wishing it was indeed Hyesoo because at least you knew her. Getting your package back from her would be no problem at all. 

But your hopes were once again crushed. As you watched Hyesoo slipping into the apartment 5C instead, you truly began to wonder if the universe had it out for you on this particular day. What crime had you committed to be treated so harshly?

To tired of the tricks of the universe, you didn’t hesitate for a second to knock on the door of 5B. Twice. Getting louder with each knock. 

Soon – but not soon enough – you heard some grumbling from behind the door and then it opened. You came face to face with a man you faintly recognised as Yoon Jeonghan. 

A shiver of worry ran up your spine for you had heard too many horror stories of his teasing nature and pranks. Having taken many of Chan’s and Joshua’s warnings, you had managed to avoid him. This was your second time coming face-to-face with him since he first moved in three months ago.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mumbled under your breath, now sure the universe held a grudge against you, before faking a smile and greeting him. “Hi, Jeonghan, right?”

He smiled a little too brightly, eyes shining in a – dare I say – mischievous way. “That’s me.”

“Hi, I’m (Y/n), and I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding by the deliveryman.”

“Ah,” he drawled, “is this about the package delivered this afternoon?”

He then ran a hand through his hair and for a split moment – a very brief one indeed–, you wondered if a man this gorgeous could possibly be nearly as evil as Joshua and Chan had made him out to be. 

“Yes!” you finally managed to spit out once you broke out of your daze. “Please tell me you have it.”

“I do–” 

A sigh of relief.

“– but I want something in return.”

You choked on the very air you were breathing.

“Excuse me?!”

He had the audacity to smile innocently as if he had just asked you about the weather. “You heard me. Nothing big though,” he shook off the thought but kept eye contact, “just an itsy-bitsy tiny favour.”

“... the favour being?” 

“Give me your phone number.”

That’s it? You blinked in surprise. “Are you serious? That’s all?”

“I’m sure Chan disagrees,” he laughed, “but I am not a devil sent from the pits of hell. I’m just a guy trying to be friendly with his neighbours.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along as you took the phone from his hand to enter your number. “You know, there are easier ways of getting someone’s number, right? You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he joked before walking into his apartment, the door ajar in a promise he’d return in just a second.

As you typed in the digits, you heard some shuffling of boxes, cardboard against cardboard and some plastic. Something soft fell, followed by a muffled curse and more aggressive shuffling. Then, just as you locked his phone, Jeonghan emerged, a victorious look on his face.

He held out a neat box, the logo of a tech store printed all over it. As you took it from his hand, you examined the address and name written on it. Strangely enough, it read “APARTMENT 2C” loud and clear – so how come it ended up in 5B?

With a sigh, you figured you could solve this mystery on a different day. You offered Jeonghan a thankful smile. “You just saved my day. I was about to have a mental breakdown over this.”

“It’s what neighbours are for,” he laughed and waved you goodbye as you headed back to the stairs. “Good night!”

“Good night, Jeonghan, and thank you!”

“You’re very welcome,” he called out before you heard the satisfying click of a lock behind you. 

You smiled and hugged the package close to your chest. You had your new speaker and you had a new friend – maybe the universe didn’t hate you after all.

“There is no way,” you mumbled to yourself and lifted your hand to knock on Jeonghan’s door. 

The golden numbers on the door of apartment 5B seemed just a little bit more annoying on this fine Monday evening. Just a little bit, because you had just seen them last Friday.

Once again, you had come home to the message that your package had been delivered – a collectors’ edition of your favourite book this time –; once again, with no package in sight near your door. Just like last time, you had opened the text message to find out the deliveryman had decided that 2C was actually 5B.

It felt like déjà-vu to hear unintelligible grumbling and the dragging of feet on the other side of the thin wood door. The unlocking of the door. And then the charming smile of Yoon Jeonghan, leaning against the door with utmost comfort when he recognised you. 

“Well, well, well,” he sang cheerfully. “What brings you to my humble home on this beautiful day?”

“Hi,” you greeted him, for you were mad at the deliveryman and not at Jeonghan. “Did you happen to receive a package in my name today?”

He pursed his lips and averted his eyes in a way that made you think he wasn’t very sincere with his demeanour. “The one from the bookstore?”

Your eyes lit up at the mention. “Yes! That’s the one.”

He frowned. “I might have it, yes. Why?”

A part of you wondered if he was actually dumb. Still, you reminded yourself that he was not at fault for the deliveryman’s mess-up. “Could you, maybe, give it to me?”

“Why?”

“So I can get my package and go home?”

“Hmm,” he pursed his lips before raising an eyebrow, “but why?”

Your jaw dropped. “But– Because it is my package?”

“Yes, but…” Jeonghan smiled and his eyes glinted with something you didn’t quite recognise yet. “Why should I give the package to you?”

“Because it is mine,” you reiterated your point, “because I’m the one that ordered it and had it delivered to this building.”

He shrugged. “I’m not convinced.”

“Jeonghan,” you breathed out in an attempt to not start yelling like your heart wished, “it is my package. I paid for it. It is mine. I want it back.”

“To be fair, you never actually had it.”

You felt yourself gritting your teeth. This man was testing your last nerve, and on a Monday of all days. “Do you want to fight?”

“No,” he answered like your threat meant nothing to him – not that you could blame him for it because even you rarely took your own threats seriously – and tilted his head, “but I do have something I want in return for my package.”

“A right-hook to the nose?” you suggested. 

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you deserve your package, (Y/n).”

You failed to take the underlying threat seriously, but your senses kicked back into gear as he began slowly – almost comically so – closing the door in front of you. You squeaked and pulled the door towards you.

“Okay, what do you want?”

The door opened as if you had said the magic words. Jeonghan offered a wide smile. “Bring me bubble tea.”

“Bubble– You–” You grimaced as your brain struggled to process his words. “You want me to get you bubble tea in return for my package?”

He pretended to think for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yes, exactly.”

“Isn’t that… illegal?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you are essentially holding my package hostage right now,” you told him with a deep sigh. “Please tell me you are kidding.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

As the door began to slowly close in front of your eyes once again, you cried out, “Okay, fine! What flavour do you want?”

Just like last time, the door seemed to magically open. He smiled once again. “Surprise me. I like trying out new things.”

“New things like federal crime?” you suggested with a venomous smile which he was glad to return.

“Exactly,” he agreed with a teasing wink. “See, you get me.” He then waved at you. “I’ll see you in a bit then. I’ll be waiting.”

And just like that he closed the door. You bit back a choice of words not so appropriate for a hallway of a rather respectful apartment building and threw your head back to glare at the sky. 

When you headed for the stairs, you found Hyesoo from 5C offering you a pitiful smile from her spot on the stairwell’s window sill.

You couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her serene smile as she sat in bay window between the houseplants she had hand-picked, her small orange cat sat in her lap, looking outside with utmost happiness. You felt this jealousy every time you met her but on this day it was particularly strong.

But you pushed forward, offered only a smile as you walked past her, and headed back down the stairs. Five floors by stairs, all because the building’s only elevator was not in service (and it was directly the fault of Junhui from 6A). 

Hyesoo was still in the bay window, painting with watercolours, when you returned with a taro bubble tea. This time, unwilling to meet Jeonghan yet again, you came to a halt in front of her. Your annoyance must have been evident in your eyes because she immediately pouted. 

“I see you don’t like Jeonghan much either,” she joked softly and waved you closer, motioning for you to pet her cat. The touch fo the soft fur made you feel a little better, you couldn’t lie. “He’s not always this mean, you know.”

“He’d literally be a criminal if I just reported him.” For some reason, this idea sparked a little bit of joy in your heart. “Stealing mail is a punishable crime by law.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t think he cares.”

“He definitely doesn’t,” you agreed before giving the small animal a final pat on the head and straightening your posture. You glanced towards the door of Jeonghan’s apartment and let out a soft sigh. “Wish me luck.”

“I believe in your ability to prevail,” she declared and winked at you before returning to her watercolour project. You wished your attitude towards life was even half as carefree as hers. 

You knocked on Jeonghan’s door again, the second time this day, and waited. The walk up and down the many flights of stairs had tired all anger out of you. All that was left was desperation to get your hands on the book you had ordered. 

While Jeonghan took his sweet time walking to the door, you closed your eyes tightly and reminded yourself that you would get your book if you were nice to him and then it would look so good on your bookshelf. Just hang on a little longer.

The door creaked open and Jeonghan smiled brightly. “You made it back in one piece, I see.”

You frowned. Had he been hoping otherwise?

“Here’s your bubble tea.” You held it out for him to take, which he was happy to do. You felt a bit of jealousy as he sipped his bubble tea – you should’ve listened to your heart and gotten two cups. “Now, can I get my package?”

He held up a finger as he took a longer sip. Then he breathed out, thoroughly satisfied. “This is great. What flavour is it?”

“Taro.” You held out your hand. “My package?”

“You’re quite impatient, aren’t you?” he joked and walked back to his apartment, door ajar. 

You took great offence to his comment for you had been nothing but patient towards him. Before you could comment on it though, he held out your package and a bank note on top of it. 

Confused, you stared at him for a moment. He only raised an eyebrow and held the package out further. “Your package.”

“What’s the thing on top?” you asked, feeling very apprehensive as you slowly took the package and the bank note. “Money?”

“I’m not sure it covers the whole bubble tea cost, but it’s the best I can do right now,” he told you with a sweet smile before waving goodbye. “Well, have a nice trip back down. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“Right,” you breathed out in relief before his words fully registered. “Bye for– Wait, tomorrow?!”

“Goodbye!” The door slammed closed in front of you.

Turns out he wasn’t wrong.  It quickly became a pattern. Two weeks passed of the same events recurring like a rule of sorts.

Nearly every day, you’d receive a message that your package had been delivered to the wrong apartment (how the delivery man had his job when he clearly didn’t even pass kindergarten was beyond you). You’d huff and groan and cry and stomp up the stairs because the elevator was never working. You’d knock on the door of 5B and…

“Back so soon?” he greeted you with a wide smile. 

To your surprise, he looked a little out of breath this time, his face red and his hair a mess. It was a refreshing change from his usual annoyingly handsome and put-together look. 

“Hey, I think we’re missing a screw,” you heard the familiar voice of Wen Junhui from inside the apartment. 

Jeonghan glanced over his shoulder, a little irritated, before calling out, “Did you check your pockets?”

“I only have one pocket!” 

You watched Jeonghan scrunched up his face. “Are you sure?”

“Do I look like a middle schooler to you?!” came a rather aggressive yell of a reply.

“I see you’re busy,” you finally vocalised, clearing your throat when your annoying neighbour’s attention was back on you. “So, just give me my package and I’ll–”

His eyes narrowed. “I see what you’re doing.”

“Just trying to make this easier for all of us…”

“No, no, nope.” Before you could protest further, Jeonghan had grabbed your hand and pulled you into his apartment. “I assume and hope that you have no further plans for tonight because–” he grandly gestured to his living room, “–I desperately need help with my new furniture.”

You gulped at the sight before you. His spacious living room was filled with cardboard boxes from IKEA, some of them opened, most of them closed. A half-built pale wood construction stood proudly in the middle of it all – you could only assume it was supposed to resemble a coffee table.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Junhui was walking in circles around the room at a snail’s pace. He was bent down so low that, despite having had only minimal interactions with him, you found yourself worrying all the blood would rush into his head. Feeling your gaze on him, he leaned his neck so he could look up for a moment and offer you a small sheepish smile before he returned to his task. 

“What are you guys doing exactly?” you found yourself slowly asking. 

Jeonghan let out a deep sigh. “All of my old furniture was worn out so I figured I might as well get some new one. My bed broke the other night–”

(Junhui interrupted with a scream of agony: “There’s a bed in here somewhere?!” You and Jeonghan paid him no mind.)

“–and that was sort of the last straw, I guess. So… Here we are.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Getting this stuff up the stairs was a nightmare, honestly.”

You pitied this man, really: anyone with half a brain cell would’ve waited until Christmas when Jihoon’s parents would inevitably get the elevator fixed for three whole days.

Maybe it was the pity that fuelled your decisions. Maybe your kind heart was clouding your judgement entirely. You knew you would regret it, and yet:

“Where do you need me?”

His eyes lit up immediately. Like a kid receiving his long-awaited birthday gift, Jeonghan clapped his hands together and led you over to the middle of the room, grabbing a box along the way. 

It was a little perplexing to see the new box. You glanced at Junhui, still bent at an odd and unhealthy angle as he searched the entire apartment for a single lost screw. 

As if reading your minds, Jeonghan waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Let him do his thing. We’ll never get anything done if we spend the entire day looking for a screw.” He slammed his hands down on the new box, clearly attempting to appear confident and encouraging. “Divide and conquer!” 

Now it was his turn to began walking around the room bent at an angle. “Jun, where did you put the box cutter?”

“Somewhere near the coffee table,” came the muffled answer.

“The new one or the old one?”

You should’ve known right then that this day would be far longer than necessary. And so, half an hour later, you had finally laid out all of the contents of the box on the floor (after making sure to place the box cutter in a place where it would be easier to find next time). 

“Okay!” Jeonghan clapped his hands together and looked at the items. “This should be a…” Trailing off, he glanced towards the abandoned box, squinting his eyes. “Oh, it’s the new plant stand.”

“What do you even need a plant stand for?” you wondered while flipping through the manual. The two-page instructions were infuriatingly unclear. “You don’t even have any plants.”

“I have a cactus in my bedroom,” he defended and sat down beside you rather forcefully. “And now that I have a plant stand, I have an excuse to buy a new plant, or maybe twenty. 

“Depending on how lonely I feel after you reject me.” He added in a mumble that you failed to pay attention to. He cleared his throat with a cough and leaned to look over your shoulder. His frown quickly matched your own. “Is this thing written in Mandarin?”

Junhui, still searching for his long-lost friend, the screw, scoffed from his newest spot under the kitchen table. “Please. If it was Mandarin, I could read it. It’s written in complete gibberish.”

“It’s okay,” you decided, trying to sound as cheerful as possible as you all but slammed the instructions onto the floor. “There are pictures, so I’m sure we can figure it out. As long as we have everything shown in this manual–”

As if on cue, Junhui screamed, “FOUND IT!”. His cheer was quickly followed by a loud thump and a cry of pain – one could only assume he had hit his head against the table.

You paused and blinked, making the conscious decision to ignore him, before continuing with a defiant smile, “–we can finish this thing in no time.”

Jeonghan replicated your smile and nodded. “Right. We can do this!”

With that said, he glanced at the manual and picked up two pieces. “So, these two should go together, right?” But as he tried, the pieces failed to match up. He frowned. 

“I don’t think that will fit,” you laughed at the sight of his disappointed face and took the cylindrical piece from him, giving it a once over, “like, at all. This is way too big.”

He groaned. “I knew I should’ve just asked Joshua. We’re never going to finish these.”

“Hey,” you bumped his side playfully and smiled brightly, “I’m here, so we’ll definitely finish it.” When he offered you a disbelieving look, you rolled your eyes. “Believe in me a little, will you? I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’m listening,” he replied and you swore you saw his ears perk up.

A sigh threatened to crawl out of your throat. “If we don’t finish at least half of the furniture today,–” You already regretted the words you were about to utter. He had a sinister look in his eyes that you didn’t like one bit. Still, you kept your word and swallowed back the fear. “–I will grant your wishes the next three times you receive my package, no complaints or whining.”

“No complaints?” His brows rose in surprise, a smile appearing. God, what have you gotten yourself into? “Deal!”

You always did have a habit of overestimating yourself.

“Good day, dear neighbour!” Jeonghan greeted you the very next day with a smile wider than you had ever seen him wear before. You knew instantly that there was no escape now. 

Or was there?

“You know what?” You turned on your heal. “You can keep it.”

“What?” he laughed in disbelief, watching you with wide eyes. “You’re just leaving it here. Don’t you want your new bedsheets?”

You paused and contemplated for exactly five seconds before shrugging. “I have enough bedsheets already and I’d like to keep my pride while I still can.”

“Hey, hey!” he called out after you and dragged you back to his door by the back of your sweater. “You made me a deal, neighbour. Wouldn’t backing out of a deal with a friend hurt your pride more than making me some pancakes?”

The convincing argument was barely convincing. You weren’t swayed yet.

Sensing your hesitation, he added in a softer tone, “We could eat them together.”

And who were you to say no to pancakes? 

You expected the encounter to go many ways, but what you failed to predict was Jeonghan’s insistence on keeping you company and helping you as you cooked. 

“I’ve got it,” he said as he ushered you away from the hot pans so he could flip the pancakes. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You do know I can flip them myself, right?

“Well, we can’t have all the pancakes looking like they survived a plane crash,” he teased after cleanly flipping the pancakes in the air. You refused to admit you were impressed by his technique. “Besides, what if you burn yourself? Then I’ll be the one owing you a favour instead.”

“Now that you mention it…” you started and playfully reached for one of the pans. Jeonghan wasted no time in smacking you with the spatula he had stolen from you. 

Narrowing his eyes, he glared at you. “Keep it up and I’m putting you on bed-building duty.”

“Oh, by the way, did you guys finish the nightstand?”

“No.” He sighed. “Junhui lost another screw.”

“How does he–”

“I wish I knew.”

Silence filled the apartment. 

It was the comfortable kind. The kind that never makes you feel self-conscious about the way you’re sitting. The kind that you barely even notice because it’s filled with a conversation only you can hear. It was the kind of silence that friends and lovers shared. 

Friends. 

Did he think of you as his friend? Or were you just a random neighbour he found joy in bossing around?

Before you could ask him that, he smiled brightly and held up a plate filled with a ridiculous tower of pancakes. “I hope you’re hungry.”

You brushed your thoughts aside and matched his energy. “I hope you have enough syrup and jam to make it worth my while.”

Did you consider him your friend?

“Oh, this is going to be great!” he cheered and grabbed your hand with his free one, leading you to the dining table. 

You smiled. 

“Good morning, gorgeous!” 

His smile was as infectious as always, even if he once again looked just a little bit dishevelled. 

The corners of your mouth pulled upwards as a reflex already. “Good morning. What’s the favour of the day?”

He laughed at your straight-forwardness, already stepping aside to let you in. “You could help me finish my furniture–” You began to protest but he was faster, “–or you could just stay and keep me company for a bit.”

“Feeling lonely?” you wondered before throwing yourself onto the worn-out yellow armchair in the corner of his room as if it was yours to begin with. 

Jeonghan laughed dryly and sat down in front of a half-assembled bed. “You have no idea. I feel like I’m going insane here.”

“Ever considered getting a roommate?” you suggested rather lazily. “Half the rent, all of the chatty.”

He contemplated for a moment while picking out the right screws. “I don’t think I could survive living with a stranger, honestly. Maybe if it was a trusted friend or a significant other.”

“You know,” you began and glanced out the large window, “you have a nice view. I’m sure you could talk at least one friend into sharing the apartment with you.”

Why did you feel a pang of hope, followed by jealousy, at your own suggestion? You shook the thought out of your head – you did not need a roommate.

“Maybe one day,” he sighed and sat up straighter to look at you wistfully, “but for now I’m glad to just have one friend visit me every day.”

You smiled: he thought of you as a friend. The realisation made you feel nice and warm inside. Maybe now you could admit that you considered him a dear friend as well. 

He cleared his throat before focusing back on his screws and wooden poles. “Speaking of friends and significant others… do you have anybody?”

You grimaced and sunk further into the armchair. “... I have a fish.”

His head whipped up just so he could show his amusement. “A fish?” You nodded. His smile softened, as did the look in his eyes. “Is it a pretty fish?”

“Well,” you contemplated for a moment, “I think Timmy’s pretty enough.”

He laughed. “Not the first choice?”

“God no,” you joined in his laughter, “I saw him at the pet store and I felt so sorry for him that I brought him home.”

“I’m sure Timmy loves his new home.”

“He has been looking a little happier and healthier since I got him,” you agreed. 

But it seemed Jeonghan’s mind was still on the first question. “You’ve got a good heart, but still. No boyfriend? Girlfriend? Non-binary pal?” You shook your head at each question, growing more and more amused at the way his eyes lit up. “How come?”

“Too busy,” you lied through your teeth. 

Truthfully, you never just bothered to look for someone. Heck, you sometimes doubted you’d ever be anyone’s first choice. Some nights you just wished fate was kind enough to have someone feel pity for you as you did for little Timmy and just take you as their own. 

You were almost sure Jeonghan would call you out for your white lie. After all, how busy could you possibly be if you’re free to spend several hours at his apartment under the guise of a favour nearly every day?

But either he didn’t catch on or he didn’t want to embarrass you. Instead of calling you out, he chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you teasingly, “Maybe if you stopped watching dramas so much…”

You laughed. “What? You think some random guy in the streets could be better than Cha Eunwoo or Lee Minho?”

He contemplated for a moment before forcing his lips into a straight line. “I admit defeat.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Can you come help me out?” he then all but begged, looking rather hopelessly at the countless pieces of wood in front of him. He held up the manual, as crumpled and tired as it was, and pouted. “I swear these instructions are written in gibberish. I can’t make out anything.”

You hummed and settled down right next to him, so close that your shoulder touched his. “I’m gonna be stuck here until midnight again, aren’t I?”

“Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?!”

“... not?” he corrected himself with an unsure smile.

“That’s more like it,” you agreed, eyes still narrowed suspiciously at the way he was acting. You then took the manual from him and began inspecting it. “Dear lord, this is worse than that plant stand.”

Leaning further against you until his chin was resting on your shoulder, he groaned in agreement. “I think I might’ve made a mistake.”

As weeks passed, you found yourself on the worn-out yellow armchair more often than you would’ve liked to admit. Somehow you spent your evening in Jeonghan’s apartment nearly every day. 

At some point, the package-for-a-favour deal seemed to be mostly forgotten as you stumbled into his apartment for no reason at all more often than not. It was a new routine to drag yourself up to the 5th floor to share stories with him and laugh at his ridiculous anecdotes. 

It’s only logical that he grew worried (not that he’d ever tell you that) when you didn’t visit him for a whole week. Expectant glances towards the door around the time of your workday’s end turned into anxious pacing. 

Before long, he found himself sitting on the same yellow armchair, phone unlocked in his hand, thumb shakily hovering over your contact.

“Maybe I upset them somehow,” he wondered as he stared at your name. It was so tempting. But what if you didn’t pick up?

“You could just go and knock on their door,” Hyesoo suggested when he brought his worries up with her one lonely evening. “Make it difficult to ignore you. You seem rather good at that.”

Choosing to not take offence at her last jab, he took her advice and stumbled down the stairs almost immediately after. 

When he reached the third floor, an idea hit: if you were mad at him, then maybe…

All the while cursing under his breath, he jogged back up the stairs and to his apartment. He fumbled with the lock and keys for a moment before bursting into the living room and looking at the packages he’d received in your name in the passed week. 

He picked up the smallest one – the most convenient to carry – and shoved it in his pocket before rushing back out of the apartment and back down the stairs once again.

As he climbed down, he finally understood why you’d been so grumpy the first time you met.

“Gosh, this is a lot,” he groaned when he finally made it all the way to the second floor. 

Gathering the last of his energy and courage, as out of breath as he was, he knocked on your door. Once. Twice. One more time, a little more forcefully, just to make sure you heard him. 

“(Y/n)!” he called your name just loudly enough that he hoped you’d hear him. “It’s me. Can I come–”

The door opened and he felt his heart break in that exact moment. He hadn’t seen you this tired and defeated before. Annoyed? Sure. Ready to throw a fist his way? Absolutely. But close to tears? Never. 

“Oh, (Y/n),” he whispered, his demeanour softening immediately.

Jeonghan reached out to pull you into his arms. You didn’t even find the strength or will to protest. In fact, all of your will seemed to crumble the moment he touched you, and the first of the tears fell. 

When he felt his t-shirt getting wet, he gasped and pulled away just to fret and wipe your tears with his hands. 

“No, no. There will be no crying. Not on my watch,” he mumbled hurriedly, a pretty pout on his lips and his eyes wide with concern. His actions only made you want to cry harder. 

He pulled you into the apartment and closed the door in a panicked manner before hugging you closer and asking, “What happened? What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“I just–” You sniffled and looked him in the eyes. “I had a bad week.”

“What was so bad about it?” he wondered, rubbing one hand up and down your back. His free hand came up to brush away the rest of your tears, gently as if just the smallest touch could break you. “I’m here, I’m listening.”

“I– I don’t want to talk about it,” you told him, determined to not burden him with your trivial worries. You shook your head and wiped your own tears this time, deadset on not crying another single drop. You forced a smile. “It’s just silly adult stuff, I guess.”

Now that you stood in front of him like this, you realised just how silly your worries were. Work stress had simply become too much for you to handle, in addition to the rising bills, and then you broke your favourite vase when you bought yourself flowers to cheer yourself up. The cup of coffee you dropped in your bed this morning was just the cherry on top. 

Silly, all of it. Nothing tragic. You’d just been overwhelmed and wanted nothing to do with other people for one horrible week. Nothing warranting the worry and attention he was giving you. 

Or so you thought anyway. Jeonghan seemed to have another perspective.

He continued pouting at you, almost as if he was hurt for you. After a moment of just watching you, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You contemplated for a moment. “I don’t know…”

“One more hug, maybe?”

You didn’t manage to get out a verbal answer before your body betrayed you and you felt your arms wrapping around him. As you rested your head against him, you felt better already. 

He chuckled softly and reciprocated the gesture, squeezing you just a little tighter to prove a point. “If you needed a hug, you could’ve just said so, silly.”

“I’ll try and remember that next time,” you promised as you snuggled closer to him. 

He hummed and hoped you’d keep your word. As he stood there, just holding you, he glanced around your apartment. In all the time you’d been friends, he’d never once visited you. 

“Ah, is that Timmy?” he recognised a moment later, looking at the rather large aquarium in your living room. 

You snorted out a water laugh and nodded. “Did you come here to comfort me or to meet Timmy?”

“You know,” he started, a teasing lilt to his voice, “I came here and I was more or less ready to apologise for doing something wrong. I even brought one of your packages, completely favour-free. But I guess if you don’t want it–”

“Which package?” You perked up, looking at him with shining eyes. “Can I have it?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What about my favour?”

“You said it’s favour-free!” you protested, hitting his chest gently.

“That was before you were mean to me. Now it is just your average package with a free delivery service. I need a favour in return for climbing all those stairs.”

“But–”

“Ah, I guess it’s mine to keep then.” He turned to open the door and leave. 

You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him further into the apartment. “Fine. What favour?” 

He looked at you for a moment (you suspected he was thinking of the favour on the go just to annoy you a little). Finally, he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your favourite movie? Something funny.”

“Why?” You watched as he sat down on your sofa in a manner that was similar to the way you often occupied his armchair. 

“We’re going to watch it until I hear you laugh,” he declared with a proud smile. “Now, come on. Your pick. I’m only so patient.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

“You know, the strangest thing just happened,” you were rambling from the second you slipped through his front door. 

Jeonghan could only laugh as he watched you toe off your shoes and practically dance over to the sofa he was occupying. “What happened?”

Your eyes shone and you held up a package. “You know what this is?”

“A package,” he replied after a pause of hesitation.

“Yes!” You practically squealed as you hugged the package to your chest and sat down next to him. “And you’ll never guess where I found it!”

He raised a brow. “I hope you didn’t steal it…”

“What, like you?” you deadpanned before gently hitting his bicep and returning to the topic at hand. “It was in front of my door when I got back from work. The deliveryman got the address right this time!”

“Really?” He seemed a little less surprised than you would’ve expected him to, but you paid it no mind, too excited about the package. He chuckled. “Is that all it takes to make you happy?”

You scowled at him before smiling brightly. “This is the first time I didn’t have to climb all the way up here to get my package. Let me be happy about it.”

“Then why did you carry it all the way up here still?” Your smile dropped. “It’s almost like you want to pay me back a favour for getting the package still.”

“I don’t– I didn’t–” you sputtered defensively. Honestly, you hadn’t even realised your little error. You’d just been too excited to care and think of the logistics. 

“That’s okay,” Jeonghan cooed and patted your head before getting up and walking to the kitchen. He returned a few seconds later with a package similar to the one you were already holding. 

When you stared at him, apprehension visible in your entire being, he smiled in a sickeningly sweet manner. “You can still do me a favour in return for this package.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why do you have my package?”

“I’ve had it for like a week now,” he laughed and held it out for you. But when you reached out to take it, he pulled it back towards his chest and effectively out of your reach. “Uh, uh. Favour first.”

You sighed deeply. Of course your life had been a little too easy for a while now. His favours had been too simple and enjoyable this month. You should’ve known to not let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. Your glare was met with an equally stubborn one.

“Alright,” you finally hung your head low and admitted defeat, “what is it this time?”

“That depends.” You hated the mischievous look in his eyes. 

“On what?”

“What’s in the box?”

You let out a groan. “Why would I tell you that?”

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue, “then I suppose I’ll keep it and find out for myself. I hope it’s something expensive… Maybe I should return it to the sender, instead.” 

He turned to leave and you panicked. “Okay, fine, it’s my new ipad, probably.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He beamed and held out the package for you to claim again, still exactly out of your reach. You weren’t dumb enough to try and grab it this time. You’d had just about enough of his tricks.

“What’s the favour then?” 

You prepared for the worst. A week of cleaning his apartment? Driving him around the town for a month? Post an embarrassing selfie on social media? You were mentally ready to do whatever.

Biting his lip and averting his eyes, he seemed hesitant to ask you. All of his bravado had disappeared at a moment’s notice. He held the package so tightly you worried it would crumple. 

“Alright,” he took a deep breath finally and looked you in the eyes, “I’ll give you this if you promise to go to the building’s Christmas party–” That wasn’t too bad. You sighed in relief but he only seemed more nervous. “–as my date.”

Your jaw dropped without permission. He wanted you to be what?

“Are you serious?” you laughed through jitters and sparks. “Like, really? Really serious?”

He hesitated but nodded nevertheless. You thought he looked cute when he was nervous and flustered. Absolutely adorable with the way his ears blushed red and his lips pouted in an effort to stop himself from biting them. 

“So, then…” he breathed out and held out the package. 

You took it. He relaxed and breathed deeply in relief. 

“That’s a yes?” he clarified a second later, eyes wide as if it hadn’t fully hit him yet. 

You couldn’t help but laugh and grab his hand. “Silly. I would’ve said yes even if you asked me without holding my iPad hostage.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose. Soon his flustered expression turned into one of confidence. “Well, of course. I’ve been nothing if not nice to you.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Sorry.”

Jeonghan whined as you walked down the hall to your apartment. “You know it’s not the same!”

“I refuse to wear matching ugly sweaters for the party,” you declared for the fifteenth time that hour. 

“But that’s the best part,” he begged with a soft laugh. “We can be ugly together.”

You failed to see how he could possibly classify as ugly under any circumstances. You grimaced. “Are you suggesting I’m not good-looking?”

“What?” His eyes widened and he giggled nervously, waving his hands around. “That’s not what I meant. At all.”

“Then are you saying that I’d look ugly in a Christmas sweater?” you continued prodding, less out of insecurity more to see how far you could push him. 

In the past few days, you’d found making him flustered and panicked was easier than you ever realised. It quickly became your new hobby. 

As you had predicted, he gasped and sputtered and shook his head like his life depended on it. “I’m just saying that no one looks pretty in a Christmas sweater and– Wait, that’s not better. I’m just saying–”

You laughed and patted his cheek to shut him up when you reached your door. “It’s okay. I was just teasing.”

His face dropped. If glares could kill, your neighbours would’ve been digging your grave already. “You’re mean.”

“Consider it payback.”

“Sure.”

As you reached into your pocket to take out the keys, a familiar voice interrupted you from the other side of the hall. “Oh, good, you’re home!”

When you turned to look at the person, Wen Junhui waved happily and held out a box. “I believe this is yours.”

“A package?” you wondered when he handed it to you. It was only now that you realised he was dressed in uniform. “Wait, are you the new deliverman?”

“Well, not so new anymore,” he shrugged and smiled. “It’s been a few months already.” Before you could ask him anything else, Junhui had already turned his back to you and was rushing back towards the stairs. He must’ve still had some packages to deliver.

You remained standing there, utterly puzzled. When you hadn’t moved in about ten seconds, Jeonghan chuckled and waved a hand in front of you. You flinched and turned to him. “Did you know Junhui’s our deliveryman?”

“Yeah,” he nodded nonchalantly, hiding his hands in his pockets, “he told me how excited he was about his job.”

“Does he struggle with numbers?” 

He raised a brow and laughed. “No. Why?”

“He knows where I live! How did he keep taking my packages to your apartment?” you burst in disbelief.

Jeonghan gulped, grimaced, and then took your keys from you to unlock the door. “Are you going to let us both freeze because of Junhui? Let’s go inside.”

Before you could get another word out, he was dragging you into the apartment.

You took a deep breath in front of the mirror, adjusting your sweater just one more time. Though Jeonghan hadn’t managed to convince you to go with his matching ugly sweaters plan, you had decided to compromise.

“Are you ready yet?” he called out from the living room. He’d been somewhat patiently sitting on your sofa for the past half hour, waiting for you. You weren’t sure if he had just wanted your presence or if he simply thought it would be more convenient this way, but there he was.

Giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you nodded and stepped out of your bedroom. “Do I look okay?”

“You look fine,” he declared with a sweet smile and jumped up from the sofa. You didn’t even really hate the way his cream cardigan matched your sweater. He smiled and raised a brow as he twirled in front of you once. “Do I look okay too?”

“You look perfectly fine,” you told him with a laugh and grabbed his hand, linking your fingers with his. It was hard to imagine ever disliking him.

“Then, let’s go,” Jeonghan suggested with a bright grin. “Joshua’s been texting me for the past fifteen minutes because apparently there’s a gingerbread castle or something and he desperately needs us to see it.”

You snorted. “Of course there is.”

“I wonder who baked it,” he hummed in thought as you stepped out of the apartment and locked the door, never once letting go of his hand. Any passerby could see the way he was desperately trying to pretend there was no red hue of his ears.

“Probably Mingyu.”

And just like that you went down the stairs, still hand-in-hand as if it was the most natural thing. Neither of you realised the other was screaming and gleefully sobbing inside at the gesture. 

“Mingyu can cook but he sucks at baking. I bet it was Seokmin instead.”

“You bet who was what?” you heard Jihoon’s amused voice the moment you reached the first floor and the newly decorated lobby. He smiled brightly (a sight you rarely saw but some inhabitants claimed was quite usual) and held out two pins. 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow but took the two pins (separating your hands in the process, much to your dismay), eyeing them suspiciously. “Name tags?”

“Thought we’d make it less awkward for all the new inhabitants,” Jihoon told with a proud glint in his eyes. “We’ve never had so many new people at our parties before. Don’t want them to worry about forgetting our names all the time.”

“God, I remember how awful that was,” you agreed and attached the pin with your name to your sweater a little awkwardly. Offering him a playful glare, you asked, “You couldn’t have done this last year?”

“Nope.”

“So,” Jeonghan started, “who made this year’s gingerbread castle?”

“I did.” The man still wore a pleased smile.

“What?!” you and your date gasped at the same time. 

He giggled and nodded. “Yeah. Felt a little more festive this year. Now, go and enjoy the party. One of the new guys made the playlist so if you see anyone by the name of Seungcheol, tell him thank you.”

“Oh, I know him,” Jeonghan beamed at you as Jihoon left the two of you to give Vernon a pin as well. “Seungcheol. He lives right next door, in 5A.”

“I guess there really are a lot of new inhabitants this year,” you mused and made your way to the snack table. Your fingers itched to grab onto his hand again. “It’s nice that Jihoon’s trying to include them so much though.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I bet you wish he did that for you too.”

You let out a soft whine at the memory of last year’s party. “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to go to a party where everyone knows your name but you only know one person and can barely remember their name? I swear I mixed up Junhui and Minghao like fifty times.” You grabbed a gingerbread man and broke off on of its legs to munch on it as you grumbled. “No wonder Jun delivers all of my packages to the fifth floor out of spite.”

Jeonghan took a deep breath at your words, looking guilty all of a sudden when you looked up to see what had made him so tense. He offered an awkward smile. “About that…”

“What’s up?” You reached up to offer him half of your cookie in an attempt to comfort him. He rejected your effort but grabbed your hand and led you towards the front door. 

“Can we talk for a second?” he asked when you got outside. 

It was a little chilly, but you didn’t fully mind – after all, he’d taken you outside, to privacy, and you were excited to find out why. Maybe he was going to– You felt a rush of heat run to your cheeks at the thought and prayed he wouldn’t notice.

“Junhui–” Wait, why was he talking about Junhui? You frowned in surprise. He sighed. “Junhui’s not a dumb and spiteful deliveryman.”

“Okay?” Really, what was he expecting you to say?

“I– I kind of bribed him to bring your packages to my apartment,” he confessed in a rush, so fast that it took you a moment to register his words. 

When your brain finally analysed the sentence, you let out a gasp. “What?”

“I–” He groaned and rubbed his forehead in frustration (probably at his own idiocy). “Remember last year’s party? You wore that pretty red sweater and you were so awkward and shy the entire time and you kept mixing up our names and you were so adorable–”

You didn’t remember the adorable part, or understand it, really. “Sure.”

“I thought you were so ridiculously perfect,” he confessed, finally looking you in the eyes again, “and I had no idea how to talk to you. So, I never spoke to you and then… Then Junhui got that job and he was excited that he told everyone on the fifth floor. And I thought I finally found an excuse. So–”

“So you bribed him?” You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. That moment was long enough for Jeonghan to be convinced he’d be rejected – he thought he deserved it. You then slapped his chest. “You idiot! You could’ve just come and talked to me, like a normal person. What the hell?”

“Where’s the fun in that though?” he joked while laughing awkwardly and rubbing the spot you hit. You really were strong when you wanted to be. He avoided your eyes “Besides, you probably would’ve told me to leave you alone then.”

You scoffed. “Didn’t I do that anyway?”

“Yeah, but it felt less personal this way,” he admitted with a grimace. “I don’t think I could’ve handled being rejected in a different setting.”

“But stealing my mail was definitely the better option?” You frowned and shook your head. “Did you hit your head somewhere or what the hell? That’s not normal, Jeonghan.”

Even in the dark ambiance of the night you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“What else am I supposed to be?” You rolled your eyes. “I just– I need some time, okay? Let’s–” A deep breath when you realised how awful he felt about his actions. “Let’s talk about this some other time, okay? We’re supposed to be having fun and you–”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I know: I ruined Christmas.” A single shameful tear ran down his cheek, he wiped it away immediately. “I’m sorry.”

You sighed. “Look, just give me some time, okay?”

There were no more words to exchange. You shook your head and walked back inside, forcing a smile when Minghao grabbed your hand to take you dancing with him and Li. It served as a welcome distraction.

Still, even when you finally found it in yourself to laugh again, your eyes trailed back to Jeonghan, standing in the corner and drinking champagne in the most miserable manner. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked up briefly to fake a smile and then look away again.

Your heart broke a little at the sight. You weren’t honestly even that upset with him – annoyed, sure. Maybe irritated that he went to such extremes. But his stupid scheme had worked, after all. The two of you were friends, at the very least, if not more.

You hesitated only a little when you found Junhui at the snack table, stuffing a bowl with as many chips as he could. You tapped his shoulder. “Hey, can I ask you for a favour?”

Jeonghan was inconsolable. Locking himself in his apartment, he spent the days watching screen adaptations of tragic love stories and scrolling through online plant stores.

After all, what’s a better fix for a heartache than starting a miniature greenhouse?

“At least plants can’t reject you,” he reasoned with himself as he placed an order for yet another three houseplants. His plant stand had been looking a little boring anyway. 

[Your order should be processed and on its way by tomorrow. Thank you for shopping with us!]

He sighed, telling himself he was happy at this development and laid down in bed. His eyes wandered around the room until they landed on the yellow armchair. 

With a groan he realised that the damned piece of furniture reminded him of you. He missed seeing you curled up in at 8 pm, chatting with him about anything and everything that came to mind. At this point, he wasn’t sure he had used the armchair himself at all – it was just yours ever since you first visited and smiled at him. 

“Snap out of it,” he cursed himself and squeezed his eyes shut as if that would make the armchair and memories of you go away. He’d been the one to be dumb and make a mistake. He didn’t deserve to feel any comfort. 

As he berated himself and pondered if he should just go up to your door and apologise again (something he’d been thinking of doing ever since the Christmas party), his phone vibrated. 

A hopeful part of him was still waiting for a text or call from you. Maybe this time you forgave him – he wished this was the truth. That’s why he practically dove to pick up his phone and check the notification. But disappointment followed hope more often than victory and this time again he slumped his shoulders. 

“Seriously, Jun?” he practically growled, frowning deeply at the message on the screen. 

[Your package has been delivered to Serenity Street 17, apartment 2C.]

He wondered for a moment about what he might have ordered for it to be delivered on this day. If it was nothing important, he could just… never go and get it. He could pretend there’s been a mistake and he never ordered anything.

“God damnit,” he groaned just a second later and threw himself back into the bed to let out an annoyed whine. “Why did I order so many plants?”

Still, maybe he could just ignore it. Maybe.

But no luck. His stupid broken heart had already named the ordered plant when he placed it into his virtual shopping cart: Martha the tiny pothos plant was waiting to come home to him. He couldn’t bear to leave Martha to die while waiting for him to gather his courage. 

He took a few deep breaths. He sat up and searched for his slippers. He put them on and threw a sweater over his t-shirt. He hesitated and gave his t-shirt a quick sniff before grimacing.

He told himself he should at least pretend to be fine and functional, and then put on a clean shirt and some nicer pants. He couldn’t let you see him in such a horrible state. A part of him hoped you weren’t home and the package stood on your welcome mat so this effort would go to waste.

Then, after what felt like both forever and a split second, he stumbled out of his apartment and down the stairs, not even bothering to lock his apartment door. He’d be quick. 

To his disappointment, there was no package in front of your door when he reached it. This could only mean one thing. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed before slapping his own cheek in an effort to find the last bit of courage to live on. 

“Why are you so dramatic, huh?” he asked himself, eyes still shut. “You’re acting like you cheated on them or something. It was just a small scheme that annoyed them. You can look them in the eye just fine, idiot.”

“You are quite an idiot, yes,” he heard the words of a voice he’d spent the entire week fantasising about. His eyes snapped open to look at you standing in the doorway, the door ajar behind you.

You looked just as lovely as you had the last time he saw you. Heck, better even now that you didn’t have that glint of disappointed rage in your eyes. He gulped.

“Hi,” he breathed out as if he’d gone dumb in the brief second. “Hello.”

You let out a laugh and he swore he ascended to heaven. “Hello, Jeonghan. Came here for something?”

“Y-Yeah.” He fidgeted with his phone. “I think– I think you have my package.”

You hummed and smiled teasingly. “I might.”

“Can I maybe have it?”

“Depends,” you began and leaned closer to him until your noses were nearly touching, “I want a favour in return.”

His eyes lit up and you smiled a little brighter upon realising he’d caught onto your intentions. He coughed. “What kind of a favour?”

“You could…”

He breathed in deeply, fearing the worst. Maybe you were playing an elaborate game with him. He wasn’t sure he deserved a second chance after he swindled you.

To his surprise, you seemed a little shy as you cleared your throat and began again, “How about this?”

“Well?”

“Kiss me.”

Now he was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. Perhaps he was hallucinating.

“What?” he breathed out.

You feigned nonchalance and shrugged, your lips pouted as if to test his willpower. “You heard me just fine. Kiss me.”

“But…”

“You don’t want to?” You raised an eyebrow, stepped back into the apartment and began to close the door, slowly. “Fine, I guess I have a new plant then.”

“Wait, wait!” he panicked and held out his hand to stop you from leaving. “Are you serious?”

You scoffed. “Would I be asking if I wasn’t?”

“You– You want to kiss me?” He was in utter disbelief. There was no way.

You, on the other hand, were starting to get a tiny bit annoyed. You rolled your eyes and firmly grabbed his hand. “How many times do I have to tell you? If you want your plant–”

Suddenly his lips were on yours. He kissed you and neither of you could’ve been any happier. Naturally, your hands moved up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer. 

You hated to think that you’d been depriving yourself of this wonderful feeling for so long. 

The kiss wasn’t long enough, at all, because he pulled away almost as soon as he kissed you. Eyes wide and wild with disbelief still, he asked, “Wait, does this mean you forgive me? I thought you were mad and hated me.”

“I was never actually mad at you, silly. A little irritated, maybe, but not mad or upset enough to hate you,” you admitted with a chuckle and patted his hair. “I mean, really, who would do something as dumb as bribing the mailman to get someone’s attention?”

He scowled though there was little to no malicious intent behind it. “Then why did you make me suffer like that? I was heartbroken! You could’ve just said you forgave me or something, like a normal person.”

You’d been waiting for that phrase. A wide grin appeared on your face as you repeated his own words back to him, “But where’s the fun in that?”

Gasping, he stared at you. Then he laughed at the irony. “Fair game. I admit defeat.”

“Then can I get one more kiss as a prize for my victory?” you teased.

Leaning closer, until your noses touched and your lips were almost less than a molecule apart, he whispered, “As many as you’d like. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” you murmured right back. 

His lips landed back on yours just a second later, with more certainty this time. Finally. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, a gesture he copied as he pressed closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as your hands played with his hair. 

When you pulled away, he began laughing. Dazed and feeling like he’d entered a dream, he giggled in your embrace, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes shone as he confessed, “I can’t believe you are mine.”

“You best believe it,” you murmured back and pulled him closer.

A/N: this was surprisingly fun to write, not even gonna lie. i wonder who’s next...

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ TO BE LOST. dazai, ranpo, chuuya, akutagawa & reader !

synopsis. how do they handle losing you? contents. written as platonic but could be read as romantic if you squint. warning for death (ofc). gn!reader. angst, no comfort. 750 words. notes. @rainswept ehe

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ DAZAI — doesn't know what to do with himself. For a long time after your heart stopped beating, he continues to clutch your hand; rubbing his thumb along the side to stave off any wandering chill. The coldness doesn't register in his mind, he's too busy focusing on the faint sound of a heartbeat rattling in his ears.

(It's his own, but for a moment he closes his eyes and pretends it isn't.)

Death has a cruel sense of humour, cutting the strings of his lifeline while keeping him painfully alive, but life was no kinder. It taunted him with every day he spent still breathing; a walking corpse, damned to keep living even as he begins to rot and decay. The pain is agonizing, but he swallows it down without a word; he doesn't deserve to be soothed, to be comforted.

You were gone, and he was still there, and he would never forgive himself for it.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ RANPO — can't accept it. He doesn't want to think about the possibility of a day where he doesn't get to see your face, when he has no one to share sweets between one sugar-covered hand to the next. The idea isn't fathomable; it felt like in one moment your laughter sang to his ears, and the next your lungs were cresting their final gulp of air.

In the end, he doesn't accept it. His open cases are swept aside, in favour of poring over every detail of your death. Natural causes? You were far too young for that, he isn't buying it. An accident? He would be a fool to give up that easily, of course he isn't ruling out foul play. Every piece of 'evidence' is analysed and evaluated, until the image of your lifeless body is burned into his vision.

In the end, it is him alone in the office after all the other detectives have left. Condolences are whispered, offers of help refused. He sits at his desk far more rigidly than usual, tearing open the packet of yet another desert made for two. He eats in silence, the sweet taste burning bitterly on his tongue.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ CHUUYA — is angry, first and foremost. Not at you (never at you) but at the memory of holding you close as you stumble your way in and out of consciousness. He is angry at himself for not being able to protect you, at the world for daring to keep moving forward even when you don't.

If his missions are carried out with a touch more violence than is strictly necessary, none of his subordinates have the courage to point it out. His strikes land fast and true, hitting his opponents with all the fury that has built up inside him spilling out and into his blows. The dust settles, the anger fades, and he is left with a lifeless body at his feet.

(For a moment, the sight reminds him of you—sprawled across the ground like a puppet with their strings cut. His heart lurches, but the image disappears with a blink.)

It changes nothing, in the end. When he downs another glass of wine at the bar, tasting your name on his tongue, there is no one to occupy the seat beside him.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AKUTAGAWA — can barely feel anything except a dull ache in his chest. It presses down on his lungs, with twice the pain as usual. The feeling is subtle, barely there at all. (It hurts anyway.)

The numb pain follows him with every step he takes, all throughout his day. There isn't a single tear that sheds, even as he replays every memory of you over and over in his mind like a well-loved VHS tape.

He thinks about your smile, the gentle warmth putting him at ease even in his recollection. Play.

The sight of your tears, tracking shiny streaks down your face. Fast-forward.

The tender rise and fall of your chest, growing slower and slower. Stop. Rewind.

The memories are a double-edged sword; soothing the pain in his chest one moment, and pressing down on the wound in the next. It's only when he is alone that he allows himself to play the final memory he has—holding your cold hand in his own, pressing two fingers to desperately find a pulse. It's only then that his blank expression begins to crack, and slow, bitter tears start to fall.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[templegate]

The downside to being the human body pillow of someone with a 10 inch height advantage who was also much stronger than him, was that Kaito could manhandle Kokichi in his sleep. And sometimes by some stroke of luck Kokichi would find himself crushed beneath 193 pounds of astronaut. Considering the events that led to this problem in the first place involved him getting pulverized by a hydraulic press, Kokichi was not a fan.

And Harukawa, cruel and heartless Harukawa would stare at him with her creepy red eyes, and smile. Perfectly content to let the machinations of her own torment backfire on him. And a new game would commence.

The game was called Flashback Chicken.

Or Kokichi and Maki are pseudo-metamours.

[theaviatorthatcouldnotfly]

sunday snippet

from ch.3 of can i take a shot at your heart? and the idiots are idioting again but what’s new 😹

But perhaps Wille doesn’t share the same sentiments. If anything, his subsequent sit-up seems to take longer than the first, and he even has the gall to stay upright for longer than he has to, simply looking at Simon. Simon narrows his eyes. “What’re you waiting for?” He asks, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. There’s really no need for the two of them to be closer than they have to. “Nothing,” Wille snorts, shaking his head at Simon and beginning to lean back on the floor. Then, in a mumble, “You’re so easy to irritate.” 

[byfulcrums]

Wrote a fic for @keferon 's (sorry for the tag!!!) Empurata Prowl AU