#c/w suicide

[silusvesuius]

nnnnnnnnnnnnno maa'am

[bibleofficial]

so i finally learned the beautiful man i met in may w the cancer, wasn’t away / busy bc of treatment like i thought he just. decided it was his time to go

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji

dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.

apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.

starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???

like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.

megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….

megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.

nobara:

yuuji:

nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?

imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)

megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.

maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.

yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?

nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?

& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:

megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.

nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:

megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.

cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.

IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.

you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.

maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.

maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.

maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.

i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.

i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.

*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*

since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane

i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.

Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved

Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*

Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.

megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.

Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.

see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.

i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.

[catilinas]

plut. cat. mi. 72.2 trans. perrin

[machinavocis]

.

[duck-tales-uwu]

fionna & cake is kinda bojack horseman esque. esp the 2nd episode. following the life of a depressed alcoholic middle aged man as he has an absolutley miserable time. i mean. it's also very different, but like. the similarities r there

[aropride]

bloody stick figure image

[littlebirdy0301]

guess who’s finally gonna really try so super hard to learn how to drive :)

[chosok-amo]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic. gojo satoru is a pathetic man when it comes to you. “ . . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay.

warning : age-up! satosugu, depressed! fem x reader, drug mention, trauma mention, suicide, self-harm, death mention, drowning, blood, heavy angst.

w/c : 6,2k | [☆] MASTERLIST

𝜗𝜚 . . . . i had to stop so often writing this because i can't stop crying and think that i shouldn't continue because it hurts me so bad that i have to take a cold shower and think about my life. and honestly, i wasn't supposed to write the last part but yeah..

A MINUTES AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

it was too quiet. . .

gojo satoru never screams so loud in his entire life, so loud. . . the world shaking beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole and rotten. so loud . . . he sure he can no longer hear. he ran, slipping on his way until he broke his knee on the puddle of the red, transparent liquid that spill from the bath-up.

the starling sigh, you were there. . .

“no, no, no, baby— no.”

the water, tinged with a haunting crimson, surged and overflowed, cascading into the bathroom with relentless force. it climbed steadily up gojo's legs, as if the liquid itself sought to ensnare him, to drag him down into its suffocating embrace, or just. . . mock him.

a dark mockery that seemed to whisper that it alone held the power to drown him, to swallow your trembling breaths and the last echoes of your voice. it wasn’t him, or geto suguru who was to be your executioner, but the merciless water, eager to claim your final, stutter breath.

“i-i —sorry, i’m sorry..” you stammered.

your voice stammered between choke, barely a murmur beneath the frothy waves, struggled to be heard amidst the tumult. your eyes, devoid of warmth, reflected a chilling detachment. the coldness in your gaze was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaotic, drowning world around you.

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic.

gojo, even on the verge of your death is still so gentle, as if he's afraid you are going to die than you already are. dropping on his knees as he tries to pull your warm bodies out of the bath-up.

gojo shook his head, a soft whisper escaping from his trembling lips, “shhh, it's alright baby, it's alright, you're alright,” his mumble, each word a fragile promise against the storm of his own emotions— words and voice shaking, his bones and soul shivering. his strong arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer to his chest, feeling everything, even as his flesh trembling.

tears cascaded from the corner of your eyes, tracing silken paths down your skin, while his embrace, though trembling, sought to cradle and calm you, a sanctuary against the turbulence of your anguish.

“suguru, please help!” again, this time he shouted.

geto runs upon hearing the horror howling, and his purple irises about to peel from his face and his lungs lose air— ragged gasps, as if each inhale were stolen from him. the scene before him struck with a painful clarity: you nestled within gojo’s embrace, your body wracked with distress.

foaming at the mouth, you appeared trapped in a tormenting grip of anguish, while the open scars on your wrist bled stories of suffering and desperation. in that moment, the sight was both heart-wrenching and surreal, a vivid tableau of fear and pain, painted across the canvas of his deepest fears.

“i'm sorry— i-i'm so sorry,” you whisper between choking gasps as geto kneels beside you and your body shaking. tears cascade uncontrollably, each dropping a shimmering testament to a sudden, overwhelming regret. it is as though a profound realization has swept over you, too late to mend the wounds that have been inflicted.

the regret feels like a bitter aftertaste of the sorrow you can no longer escape. the eyes of those around you, trembling with the weight of their own anguish, are bloodshot and haunting, mirroring the crimson that flows from your wrist. in that agonizing moment, the world feels irrevocably broken, and the fleeting desire to be alive seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

they burst from the bathroom, gojo's arms wrapped tightly around you as he dashes through the chaos. your lifeless feet and hands dangle, a heavy, haunting reminder of the blood seeping steadily onto the floor. each drop forms a macabre trail, like the relentless shadow of death that clings to you, a grim companion refusing to let go.

the crimson stains splatter and pool in your wake, an anguished testament to the finality that now seems inevitable— each red stain on the ground is a haunting reminder, a stark declaration. as they run, the blood's mournful descent weaves a sorrowful narrative of moments slipping away, each drop a poignant echo of what might have been, a stark and unyielding declaration that time has run out, that it is too late.

and suddenly, everything feels like a slow motion.

6 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

the doctor spoke with a grave tone, his words laced with concern. “it appears,” he began, looking at gojo who's just sitting there with his eyes focusing on the floor, meanwhile geto standing beside him. “that she intentionally tried to overdose. we've had to act swiftly to pump the substances from her body, working to counteract the severe effects of her actions.”

geto's hand gently gripping on gojo's shoulder as they listen. his expression was one of solemn seriousness, reflecting the urgency and gravity of the situation. “we've done everything we can to stabilize her, but it's crucial that you two understand the seriousness of what she has done. this was a life-threatening situation, and we're only beginning to address the underlying issues that led to this crisis.”

the doctor continued, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern. “fortunately, the cut on her wrist wasn't too deep,” he said, his eyes scanning the notes before them. “it seems that the severity of the injury was somewhat mitigated by her weakened state from the drugs. if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different.”

his tone softened, acknowledging the fragile balance between the danger of the overdose and the mitigating effects of your physical condition. “we've managed to address the immediate threats, but it's crucial to understand that this is a serious wake-up call. we need to work on her recovery and the emotional struggles that led to this moment.”

if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different,’ the words echoed repeatedly, hauntingly through the air, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. once, twice, three times, they reverberated through their minds, each repetition a stark reminder of how close they came to losing you, how dangerously close the edge of despair was.

even the notion of ‘almost’ carried a weight too immense to bear, a heavy presence that pressed down on their hearts. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken guilt and anguish; none of them could find the words to bridge the chasm of their shared grief. they avoided each other's gaze, unable to escape the silent blame that hung heavy between them, a suffocating testament to their collective sense of failure.

gojo stared at his hands through the thin veil of his blindfold, his fingers trembling as they traced the dried blood staining his pale skin. the sight of it was a brutal reminder of you. with a strained effort, he clenched his hands tightly, hoping to meld the dried blood with his own, as if to erase the haunting evidence of what had transpired— his last hope trying to be with you.

each breath felt like a desperate gasp, a small gap forming between his lips as he struggled to draw in air. the sensation of suffocation gripped him, a relentless pressure squeezing his chest, making each inhale a battle. despite his efforts, the air seemed insufficient, leaving him feeling as though he were on the precipice of life, teetering on the brink of an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

geto felt an overwhelming tide of guilt and anguish, a heavy weight pressing down on his heart. the scene that unfolded before him replayed in his mind like a relentless, agonizing loop, hunting him down like he is some kind of a fucking prey. he was haunted by the sight of your suffering, the image of your blood-streaked hands and the anguished cries that pierced the air. each moment of his own reflection, seeing the remnants of your blood on his skin and his white shirt, deepened his torment.

the sense of responsibility gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he came to losing you. he felt suffocated by a profound sorrow and helplessness, as if the very air around him was too thick, leaving him gasping for breath— like the death itself pointing its ugly fucking finger to his face and laugh at him, at them.

what a fucking pathetic man’ the death must be said.

the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, and the silence between him and his companions only amplified his inner turmoil. the unspoken blame and the aching realization that he couldn't undo what had happened created a chasm of despair within him, making each moment feel like an eternity of unbearable remorse.

both of them are buried in profound sea of grief, guilt, shame because a thousand moments with you that they take for granted— shame, for thinking, assume that there would be a thousand more. is it too selfish to be here?’ they thought.

that curse must be laughing at them, the higher-ups, everyone— pointing their finger from all directions. look at them, ’ they thought, those two who called themselves the strongest can even save a single soul,’ again they must be laughing, let alone a soul who is to be called the love of their life.

but nobody knows, none, not even a single soul that, oh, how your presence evokes such selflessness in them— even amid their silent, tormented reflections. they are consumed by an incessant questioning of the selfishness of their own sorrow, wondering if it is wrong to cling to their grief while you teeter on the precipice of loss.

the haunting thought persists, a cruel reminder of time's fragile nature and the profound depth of their remorse. in their heartache, they are acutely aware of the contrast between their own suffering and the delicate balance of your existence, each moment of their anguish a poignant testament to the sorrow they feel for having taken so much for granted.

is it okay to feel sad? ’ they thought.

even the very sensation of sadness and grief feels like an indulgence they do not deserve. i can't even protect her, what rights do i fucking deserve to be sad?’ they thought. to them, these emotions seem an opulent luxury, an extravagant gift they are not entitled to. in their hearts, the depth of their sorrow feels almost excessive, a poignant reminder of how their suffering pales in comparison to the magnitude of the almost loss they face.

each wave of grief feels like a grand, unwelcome opulence, an unjust reward for the pain they have caused and the moments they have squandered. the luxury of their sadness seems a cruel irony, a stark contrast to the profound emptiness of the reality they must now confront.

people passing by in front of them, throwing them a glance or two. seeing their red eyes and tears-stain cheeks, blood in their hands, in shirts, in pants, in their soul, laid bare. everyone wants to give them both a pat on the back, telling them that they are good at handling grief; howling, crying, and blaming each other. that's the proper way to handle grief.

18 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

your hands are warm, a stark contrast to the pallor of your pink lips, which have lost their vibrant hue, your eyes open still so retain their gentle softness, a quiet testament to the grace you still hold.

as you lie upon the hospital bed, draped in the drab, floral-patterned gown that clings to you, it feels woefully inadequate. the gown, mundane and worn, seems too insipid and shabby to encompass your beauty, too faded and forlorn.

“i'm sorry. . .” you mumble.

you can’t bring yourself to look at them as they sit beside your bed, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights, their uniforms crumpled and disheveled, their hair falling in untamed disarray. their faces have lost their vibrant hue, a stark contrast to their usual vitality.

gojo satoru’s once-brilliant blue eyes, which used to shimmer with an unyielding light, now seem dull and lifeless, even when the golden sunlight spills over them. the sunlight, which once might have enhanced the beauty of his gaze with its warm orange tones, now only serves to highlight the emptiness that has replaced his once-sparkling eyes— it's dull, it's dull, it is fucking dull.

geto suguru's strikingly handsome face is graced with a smile, tender and achingly gentle, as though he is pouring all his effort into offering you a sliver of solace. his lips tremble with a subtle quiver, betraying the deep sadness that lingers beneath his calm exterior. his once-vibrant purple irises have dimmed, their former brilliance faded to a shadow of their former selves.

you fear that they might darken further, losing their hue altogether, slipping into a void of despair where even color seems to vanish. the sight of his sorrowful eyes, so devoid of their usual spark, reflects a profound sadness that pierces the heart, a silent testament to the emotional toll of the moment.

oh, what i have done. . .’ you thought.

“don't, please don't,” gojo pleads, his voice trembling as he clasps your unharmed hand with a desperate grip. his blindfold has been removed, revealing eyes that are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion as he gazes at you. beside him, geto's hand rests gently at the back of your head, his touch tender and soothing. he caresses your hair with a featherlight motion, his thumb brushing softly over your scalp.

“we are so sorry for taking you for granted,” he murmurs, the words heavy with regret and sorrow. “we are sorry for offering you only a lukewarm love, when you deserved a love that was fierce and all-consuming, a love that burned brightly and fiercely. i'm sorry,” his voice wavers, each word an echo of their deep remorse, as they both grapple with the weight of their unspoken apologies and the profound realization of what they failed to give you.

they do not seek to question why your soul bleeds, nor do they dare to unravel the dark tapestry of your pain. the blood, flowing with a steady, silent, and disturbingly deliberate pace, engulfs you in its relentless embrace. it seeps into every corner of your being, a somber tide that threatens to consume you entirely.

they find themselves unable to confront this harrowing reality, their hearts too burdened to bear the weight of such a painful inquiry. the sight of your suffering leaves them paralyzed, unable to utter the questions that linger in their minds, as they grapple with the profound helplessness of watching you slowly succumb to the encroaching shadows.

“i love you, baby,” gojo whispers, “i'm sorry that you're in so much pain so to think death is the only salvation,” he stopped for a second, cocooning your hand with his large one before resting his cheek against. “i'm sorry i didn't notice your rage for the world and too busy loving you. does my love scare you, love? that's why you decided to leave, hm?” his voice shaking, lips quivering.

“if you are angry, stab me a little so you can feel better, make it hurt, i don't care. a little suffering would be worth it if it's by your hands, by your pretty little hands,” he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers across your body. each word was a soft plea, wrapped in a tone that trembled with both desperation and tenderness.

his trembling lips pressed gently against your hand, each kissing a fleeting starburst of warmth against your cool skin. him— no they, stood ready to endure your pain, inviting you to inflict upon them the hurt you felt.

they stand poised to let you sink your teeth into them, to delve into their very flesh. to let you open them up, laid bare and vulnerable, just to offer you a chance to heal. just so they can love you a little too much, starving even— like a flesh begging to be knitting together over a wound. ruin me, ruin us, and we will let you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you,” he gave you stars in each between. they fucking love you like a rotten dog. “believe me when i said this. . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay, “we love you.”

he finally said we’ geto thought.

at first glance, people might assume that geto suguru’s love for you surpasses that of gojo satoru, that his love is somehow greater. yet, the truth remains that it has always been gojo satoru who harbors the most profound and boundless love for you from the very beginning. his love is vast, immense, and utterly astonishing, stretching beyond the horizons of understanding.

gojo’s devotion is a vast expanse, a love so deep and wide that it seems to defy the very limits of emotion. even geto suguru, who himself is capable of immense love, finds himself awestruck and somewhat intimidated by the sheer magnitude of gojo’s feelings. no one can truly grasp the depth of gojo’s love—not even gojo himself—such is the overwhelming, almost incomprehensible nature of his heart’s boundless devotion to you.

and sometimes it scares the shit out of geto.

but maybe, just maybe, they have a little too much love for you more than for each other, even more than for themselves— as if you make a space in their ribs, and call it home country.

30 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

geto stirred from a restless sleep, his head resting gently against your hospital bed, nestled close to your side. as he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the soft, gentle sight of you gazing at him, a faint, tender smile gracing your lips. the serene moment, bathed in the quiet of the hospital room, brought a flicker of warmth to his weary heart, a small but profound comfort amid the lingering shadows of their shared sorrow.

“hey sunshine,” geto whispered in a hoarse croak, reaching a hand to brush your hair away from your face, “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to notice the dark circles under your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, your thumb tenderly caressing the worn skin. geto hummed, his hand capturing yours and guiding your palm to his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss.

the touch of your skin was like a salve, soothing the ache in his weary soul. he chuckled weakly. his eyes were tired and his skin pale, but your touch made him feel alive. “you’re too observant for your own good,” he teased, his lips curving into a weary smile.

geto shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. he settled into a more comfortable position, still holding your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

he studied your face, taking in every detail, from the delicate flutter of your eyelashes to the subtle flush in your cheeks. the sight of you, even in this vulnerable state, filled his heart with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his gaze fixed on your face. he knew it was a question he had asked before, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed to hear you speak, hear your voice, just to reassure himself that you were still with him.

“like shit,” you answer.

your hand is still gently cupping his cheek, thumb running low across his skin in a loving manner. at your blunt response, geto's lip curled into a soft smile. even in your weakened state, you still had a defiant spark.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. “i thought we agreed no profanity,” he teased, his voice laced with affectionate humor, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against the palm of your hand in a tender kiss.

“you’ve always been a bad influence on me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he studied your face.

he took a moment to compose his words, his expression growing serious. “there was a moment,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, “a moment when i thought i lost you.”

your smile faltered, and your eyes softened with concern as you listened to the gravity in his voice. you reached up to gently touch his cheek again, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his sadness.

“i’m here now,” you whispered, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “you haven’t lost me.” you looked deeply into his eyes, trying to convey with your gaze the depth of your presence and the promise of your unwavering support. “and i’m not going anywhere,” you added softly, hoping to soothe the lingering fear in his heart.

his hand covers yours, holding it against his cheek as he closes his eyes, relishing in your soothing touch. for a moment, he just allows himself to bask in your presence, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him.

“i was afraid i wouldn’t get to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice growing thicker with emotion. he opened his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze bared to you, his heart laid bare.

your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability. you gently squeezed his hand, your voice trembling with sincerity as you spoke. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your eyes filled with compassion.

geto’s thumb traced gentle, small circles on the back of your hand. “you have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “it was my responsibility to keep you safe, and i failed.”

the guilt and regret in his voice were palpable, the weight of his self-imposed responsibility clear. he lowered his gaze, wrestling with emotions that were etched deeply into every line of his weary face.

he lifted your hand from his cheek, bringing it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. “i just need you to know how much you mean to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly. his grip on your hand tightened, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

geto’s lips continued to brush against your knuckles as he spoke, soft and gentle. his eyes held yours captive, the depth of his affection bared for you to see.

“you are my everything,” he confessed, his voice hoarse with the weight of his honesty. “the thought of losing you, of living in a world where you don’t exist…” he trailed off, a pained expression crossing his features. he was torn between the love that engulfed his heart and the fear that threatened to consume him.

geto drew in a shaky breath, composing himself as best he could. he lifted his gaze from your hand, meeting your eyes once again. his expression held a mixture of love and devotion, but also a hint of desperation.

“i need you to know that no matter what, i will do everything in my power to protect you,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions raging within him. “not just because it’s my duty, but because i love you more than i thought it was possible to love someone.”

you met his gaze with a warm, reassuring smile, the depth of your gratitude shining through. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice imbued with genuine appreciation. your smile was a reflection of the profound comfort and reassurance you felt, a silent promise to stand together through whatever lay ahead.

geto’s eyes softened at your smile, a flicker of relief passing over his weary face. he squeezed your hand gently, his touch both appreciative and protective.

he studied your face for a moment, his gaze lingering on each contour, each freckle and line, as if to further commit them to memory. “don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured, mostly in jest, but with an underlying current of seriousness.

gojo entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern as he carried a bag of your belongings. upon seeing the tender moment between you and geto, his eyes softened, though they carried a hint of the exhaustion and worry that had shadowed him. he set the bag down and approached, took a sit at the edge on the other side of your bed, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“don’t scare me like that again too,” he said, his tone gentle but tinged with the weight of his emotions. his gaze met yours with a blend of earnestness and relief. “i know suguru’s been holding on tight, but i’ve been right here, too. seeing you like this... it’s been hard on all of us. please, don't leave us.” his words were a heartfelt plea, an echo of the concern and love he carried for you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of his devotion.

geto’s grip on your hand tightened momentarily at the sound of gojo’s voice, his eyes darting towards his best friend. he could hear the exhaustion and worry that laced gojo’s words and knew all-too-well the weight of the responsibility they shared.

he turned his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. his thumb resumed its gentle, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “yeah,” he said in agreement, his voice gruff with emotion. “please, don’t scare us like that again.”

gojo’s presence brought with it a sense of familiarity, a comfort that was both grounding and reassuring. he reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, his touch a silent expression of his affection and concern.

he studied your face, his eyes tracing every contour, every line, as if to commit the sight to memory. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with worry. “i wanna say like shit but suguru said no profanity,” you puff a little chuckle.

geto gives a little scoff at your comment, his expression laced with a mixture of annoyance and affection. he rolls his eyes playfully and mutters, “you’re such a bad influence.”

gojo’s lips curled into a small smirk before he turned his gaze back to you, the lines around his eyes creasing with a mix of amusement and relief. “can’t have you talking like that,” he teased, his words light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.

gojo studying your face carefully before speaking ever so softly, “well, apart from the obviously crappy mood geto’s been in, you look good. your color is better.” he noticed a faint crimson crushed on your cheeks, a little pink on your lips.

he reached his hand out to smooth a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch light and tender. his gaze wandered from your face to where geto still held your hand, his eyes reflecting a subtle hint of appreciation.

geto watched gojo's gentle touch, his grip on your hand unconsciously tightening a little bit in response. his expression was a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, his eyes betraying the fear and worry that still tugged at his heart.

he took the moment to observe the soft interplay of emotions between you and gojo, the easy familiarity and the deep bond that existed between you all. he could sense the weight of gojo's concern as he studied your face, the care and attention in his touch.

gojo's voice was soft as he continued, his gaze still fixed on your face. “so, how are you feeling, for real?” he asked, his tone a gentle echo of geto's earlier question. “any pain? any discomfort?”

geto looked at you, his eyes silently pleading for you to be honest. he was hanging off your every word, each response a small insight into your well-being.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on you. meeting gojo’s gentle gaze and then turning to geto’s silent plea, you spoke with a mixture of remorse and honesty. “i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m sorry for how i handled things. i know i should have talked to you both, but i didn’t—i tried to take matters into my own hands without thinking it through first.”

your eyes reflected a deep sense of shame and regret as you continued. “i actually feel like absolute shit right now, and i’m ashamed of myself for thinking i could find a quick solution without considering the impact it would have on you both.” you looked at them, hoping your words conveyed the depth of your remorse and the sincerity of your apology, wanting them to understand that your actions were not a reflection of your feelings for them, but rather a moment of misguided desperation.

gojo's expression softened with understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. he knew the weight of your words, the regret and shame that clung to them. he reached his hand back to your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

geto's gaze was a mix of surprise and relief as he processed your apology. his hand around yours tightened slightly, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. “it's okay,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we all have moments of weakness. what matters is that you're here, safe and alive.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at their responses, their understanding and compassion a balm to your wounded spirit. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for not being angry with me and for not questioning me right away. i know i made a terrible mistake, and i’m grateful you’re here, supporting me instead of condemning me.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions— relief, love, and a hint of lingering fear. he shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “we can save the anger and lecturing for when you’re not looking so terrible,” he joked, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “and trust me, baby, i had a lot of choice colorful words for you when the right time comes,” he lean in to kiss your forehead, “but right now, we just trying to be here for you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his grip on your hand still tight. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at gojo's playfulness, but there was a hint of fondness beneath the feigned annoyance.

he leaned in, reaching out with his other hand to gently brush a strand of hair off your forehead. “you are a stubborn, reckless, and stubborn pain in the ass,” he scolded lightly, his tone a soft but affectionate mix.

gojo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor. he settled himself closer, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “he's right, you know,” he chimed in, his smile wide. “you're very good at pushing our buttons and getting under our skin.”

geto's lips curled into a small smile, his expression a mixture of feigned anger and affection. “and you're even better at making us worry,” he added, his tone light but underlined with the gravity of their concern. “but we care about you more than anything,” he added, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “so you better not do something like that again, you hear me?” his voice held a hint of authority, but mostly it was filled with love and concern.

geto's smile grew a bit wider, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “you better listen. we don’t need anymore of these near-death experiences from you.”

gojo chimed in enthusiastically, leaning in a bit closer. “yeah, cause let me tell you, i can’t handle any more gray hairs than i already have.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened again, his expression a mix of sternness and vulnerability. he looked at you intently, his gaze locking with yours. “he's right,” he echoed, his voice firm but filled with warmth and care. “no more reckless decisions. no more putting yourself in danger. you hear us, my love?”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression serious but eyes softened with concern. he added, “yeah, we can't keep having our hearts in our throats like this. it's not good for our health, you know.” geto's hand caressed your arm gently, a silent plea for your understanding. “we just want you safe and sound. that’s all we ask.”

a hint of vulnerability flashed across geto's face, his expression betraying the weight of his words. he locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with a mixture of pleading and sincerity.

“we just want to know that you're safe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “that you're not recklessly endangering yourself anymore.”

gojo leaned in closer, his hand resting on your arm lightly. “we can't bear the thought of something happening to you again,” he chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of worry.

they continued to exchange tender words and earnest pleas, their voices overlapping in a chorus of concern and affection. each spoke fervently about their love and the lengths they would go to ensure your safety and happiness. their words, though filled with their own fears and frustrations, were underscored by a deep, unwavering care for you.

as you watched them, a soft smile touched your lips. their earnest devotion, their refusal to let you face this alone, filled you with a profound sense of comfort and gratitude. you could see their love in every gesture and hear it in every word, and it warmed your heart. despite the gravity of the situation, their caring presence made you feel cherished and supported, giving you strength even in the midst of your own turmoil.

after a few moments of their heartfelt declarations, the room fell into a short silence, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

gojo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy. “and just so you know, suguru here basically took a week off work to sit by your bedside like a damn watchdog, he even almost made the rainbow dragon eat gakuganji because that fucker won't let him leave.” geto, caught off guard by the sudden revelation, flushed faintly and shot a glare at gojo.

geto, taken aback, shot a sharp look at gojo before retort, “you clearly about to hollow purple the higher-ups and the entire school because they won't let you stay here with her.” gojo's expression darkened for a moment, “you know i would do it in a heartbeat, if i could.” geto's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze still fixed on gojo. “i know you would. and i'd be right there with you.”

gojo and geto turned their attention back to you when they heard your soft chuckling, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement at hearing you laugh.

gojo chuckled as well, “you find that funny, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. geto rolled his eyes a bit, but his own smile betrayed his true feelings. he couldn't stay serious when you laughed. “just the thought of us going rogue and taking down the entire school system for you is amusing, i guess,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

you hummed in satisfaction, “they are shit anyway.” a gentle smile lingering on your pale lips.

gojo chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling at your comment. “ah, and there’s that signature wit of yours coming back.”

geto, still feigning annoyance but struggling to hide a grin, shook his head slightly. “still as blunt and unfiltered as ever,” he said, his eyes soft.

you glances at both of them, the comforting silence lingering between you, and with a tender smile, you mouthed softly, “i love you.” your cheeks flushed a delicate crimson beneath your pale complexion as you kissed their cheek.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief glance at your sweet words and soft kisses, their hearts swelling with warmth and love. gojo's hand reached out to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and loving. “we love you too,” he said softly.

geto's smile widened as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “always,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness.

the thought of you coming back to them is warm.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @bounie1 @nina3871 @ohnotheusernameisbroken

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 7.4 k

A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.

I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.

CW below the cut

C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?

Previously:

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

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

Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.

"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.

You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.

Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?

"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.

"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.

"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.

He's real.

"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."

You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”

Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.

----------

"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.

While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.

"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?

"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"

"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"

Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"

You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."

“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.

"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.

————

Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.

It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.

A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.

He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.

"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"

He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.

"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.

His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?

"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.

His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth. 

He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.

He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.

Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.

“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You smirk. “You do, huh?”

“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.

You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.

This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.

Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.

His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.

“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice. 

He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide. 

“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.

“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it. 

He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.

Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.

Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.

He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.

He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.

He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.

“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.

“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek. 

Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.

He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you. 

“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…” 

All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you. 

“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”

“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief. 

“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.

He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.

“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.

“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.

“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!” 

—-----------

The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.

-----------

The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.

You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.

You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.

"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.

"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft. 

He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.

You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.

“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs. 

Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need. 

Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.

As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips. 

Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.

“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.

“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.

“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”

You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.

-----------

"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are gender neutral.

"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door.  You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.

“”What would you like to do, Hannie?” 

“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home. 

Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.

“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.

“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.

He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.

“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.

The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.

"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.

"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.

The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."

That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.

"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.

Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.

Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.

The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.

Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.

"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.

----------

"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.

"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.

"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?

"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.

You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.

"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.

"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.

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

Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent. 

After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.

He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance. 

Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.

He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?

“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.” 

Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you. 

He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.

“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe. 

“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.

“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.

He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”

It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.

“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.

You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.

You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you. 

Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.

---------

You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either. 

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

You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.

You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.

"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.

"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.

The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.

"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.

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

Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.

Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.

Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.

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

Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.

It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.

For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.

Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.

The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.

You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.

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

You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.

You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.

“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.

Nothing.

He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?

Again, nothing.

He really was gone.

—-----------

Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?

He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.

Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.

He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.

By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.

He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.

He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.

He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?

Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.

“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.

“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.

“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.

“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.

“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”

Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.

Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.

Fuck! He freezes to the spot.

The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.

“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.

Han crosses his arm and pouts.

“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.

“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”

“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”

“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.

“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.

“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.

“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.

“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.

Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”

“Just on a year.” He replies.

Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.

“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”

—-----------

Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.

Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.

The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.

“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.

You continue to stand there, saying nothing.

Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.

“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.

“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.

A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.

————-

You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.

“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.

“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.

Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”

Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”

“Hi.” He waves.

“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.

You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”

“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.

“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.

“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.

“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.

“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.

“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.

“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.

“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”

“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.

The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.

“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”

“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.

You shake your head.

“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”

“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.

“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.

“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”

“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual.  I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.” 

“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”

“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.

“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.

“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”

“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.

Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.

Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.

Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.

—————-

A little update on our y/n and Hannie:

Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.

You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.

He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.

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

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.

If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.

Sorsha x.

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

@kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @katsukis1wife @jeonginsleftcheek @ihrtlino @ivydoesit23 @gnab-nahc @skzstan12345 @youcanstayyeah @binnieonabike @hanniemylovelyquokka @moasworld @binniesbabe @courtnort455 @yongbokkiesworld @felixleftchickennugget @bangchans-angel @heerinnie @meilix

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife

[leaf-line]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Yandere! Dr Ratio x Gn! Reader

❏ You and Dr Ratio bakes cake after your milestone! All harmless, absolutely nothing bad will happen!

cw: invasion of privacy, implied isolation, people pleaser reader, mentions of insecurities and mental illnesses, suicide.

w/c: 2,856

"I'm starting to see your improvements." Ratio hums, sounding pleased, which is rare for him to do, but it's not impossible.

Contrary to his calm demeanor, you were emotional.

"That's all you could say!? This is big! This is a big deal!!" You cried out, snatching the papers—the fruits of your labor, the results of your hard, hard work—from Veritas.

Your heart was thumping so loudly. It was as if all your red blood cells received glucose simultaneously.

"I can't believe... I got high scores on all tests... All in a row..." You weep out of joy seeing all of them be above the number of 95. You could let your knees fall to the ground and start having a breakdown to release all the stress kept up in your years of living. "My life... Is fulfilled... Suffering... Is no more... Augh—" You state dramatically, Ratio could only scoff at your s-tier performance.

"It is a feat for a person like you. However, this is not the ending point for you to cry out of joy; there's always more to strive for and be better at. The room isn't that small. There's still more for improvement. However... You did great, I'm proud of you for that." He lectures as if to say 95 isn't enough and you need full scores, but honestly, you can't even be mad at him.

After all, he was the one who pushed you to achieve something such as this. If it weren't for him, you'd be nothing but a plain potato who didn't achieve anything meaningful.

A genius prodigy such as him could easily turn a useless stone like you into a shining diamond. You felt grateful.

"Ahaha..." You laugh ironically. "But thanks, it's all thanks to you, you should be proud." You wipe your tears eyes with a finger, then smile brightly at him.

He said nothing, and you grinned. Maybe it was because your smile was so contagious he was stunned, but then again, you don't know what's going on behind that mask of his. You could only see him turn his head away from you.

You wanted to know truly if he's fond of you or not.

Your tutor... No, rather, your friend Ratio was someone you never expected to get along with. Rather, you were extremely opposed to the idea, and perhaps, even was he.

Recalling back to that time, both of you first met... Wasn't exactly the best first impression...

"Welcome, Sir Veritas Ratio. Meet my child... [Name], please take care of them from now on. They might be a little... Uneducated, but I hope that you can help them with that." Your mother pushes your back towards him, in which you internally scowl in return.

You eyed him. He looked rather young to be your tutor.

"Ah, and I couldn't help but notice that both of you are the same age. If that is the case, then I hope that the both of you will get along well!" Your mother cheerfully says so.

You doubted that heavily.

That's because you did your research before meeting him in person.

A lot of people said that the prodigy was cruel, relentless, and maybe even sadistic. And the list goes on. The most positive and recurring mentioned trait of his was being academically talented.

As soon as your mother left you with him, you felt vulnerable, as if you were out in the open and someone was ready to stab you with words like knife, take for example; the person in front of you.

You try to pace down your heartbeat to not overthink it... It works.

It's fine, it's fine, he's a prodigy, surely he knows about the fact of how the human heart is delicate and needs to be handled carefully. What's the worst he could say to you out loud?

No matter what it is, you won't let it reach you!

"Hey... You." He calls out, you prepare yourself.

There's no way he's gonna be 'that' cruel to you... Right? You both just met.

"Have you taken a shower? You stink."

...

A part of you cracked.

"Let's move on quickly, I don't have time to deal with idiots such as you."

And it cracks again.

Yeah... It wasn't the best, but at least he doesn't say that anymore. In fact, it helped you that he said that, since you don't neglect hygienic activities as much anymore. But as Professor Veritas Ratio once said, 'Don't dwell in the past for long,' let's focus on the future and present!

Since this is a milestone for you, you should gift Dr Ratio with a thank you.

"I'm in no need of your services. This feat was only achieved through your hard work. You should treat only yourself." He said out of nowhere.

"Wait— H-How did you even—"

"Your face said it all."

"Huh???"

Dr Ratio seems to have a knack for using his hidden mind-reading powers on you. You don't like that. You'll always feel vulnerable to him every time at this point.

"Ah... Too bad... I was gonna make myself some homemade cake and share it with you... Too bad you don't want it. I guess I'll just stick to being lonely and take it all for myself." You puff out, obviously picking on him.

"Then let me help you, for all I could know, the house might be burned down before you can even bake one successfully." He replies back with no remorse.

"How rude!"

You end up baking at his home.

You simply didn't want the place to be yours since your mom is gonna be there saying you're wasting your time doing all this, so it's gonna be annoying.

And so you're there, stirring a bowl with a whisk, while there's Ratio holding out the instructions. You can't lie; he looks kinda cuter with that apron he's wearing if only his strange plaster sculpture weren't covering his appearance.

"You know... Veritas... You can remove that mask off. Since... Ya know? We're baking."

"Focus on the task at hand."

"Damn..."

You were silenced immediately, so you carefully put down the bowl, ——albeit with a trembling hand that made you feel pathetic——, to move over to the chopping board with the bowl of strawberries that you're gonna cut. You reach out for the knife

...If not for Dr Ratio intervening.

"Let me handle that." He says, practically shoving you away from the chopping board. He takes the knife and chops it with ease despite wearing that weird sculpture on his head. You wonder if he can see with that.

"Woah... Are you worried about me accidentally cutting myself?" Your eyes widen in surprise.

"I didn't know you actually cared for me, Professor Veritas... Hmmm, but I suppose you can't help it; after all, I'm the cutest and the best student ever had, aren't I?" You bat your eyelashes for the sake of sarcasm.

"Perhaps."

"...Eh?"

Too blunt, you feel your cheeks burning up.

You wonder if he's just playing along with your sarcasm because there is absolutely no way that's the case.

"I'm not playing around with your jokes. I'm simply laying out the possibility."

"There you go... Using your mind reading powers again..."

"It's not that hard to do if you have two eyes and a brain."

"I have a brain too... Not everyone can exactly know what a person is thinking just by looking at their face and expression."

"I doubt both of those statements."

"...Okay, rude."

"It's not about skills, actually; you're just an open book."

"Am I really??"

You hum, seeing him chop the strawberries more efficiently than you ever could. You know all well you'd cut it clumsily, then they'd end up looking like you've beaten them to mashes. You walk to the over to preheat it while he does his own thing. You gaze at the warm light.

"This cake is just for the two of us. I can't really share it with anyone else. If only I could, I would." You murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling close enough to him to tell him your issues occurring these days. You stand up to walk over next to him.

"...Why is that?"

"Everyone at the campus... Ignores me. I don't know why." You say, your expression showing one of disheartened, but you bothered to put up a smile. "I know, I know, I shouldn't be bothered with this minimalistic stuff." You chuckle.

"... Human life inevitably takes the form of a struggle against loneliness. We reach out to others in order to avoid sinking into complete isolation. However, although they might provide us with some degree of consolation and felt connection, our loneliness is something that can never be overcome. Therefore, you have the right to be bothered by it. Even if everyone on your campus notices you, you'll still end up feeling lonely."

"So... You're telling me my feelings don't matter even if I single myself out?"

"You have me, don't you?"

"Woah??"

"Don't go around putting random ideas in your head. It's just, if you ever feel like you're the only person existing in the universe, remember me." He placed down the knife to lightly pat your head.

"..." It was as if you remember something foul, you feel your smile fading for a bit. "You know, I wondered if people avoid because they think I'm annoying. Do you find me annoying too Dr Ratio?" You humor a question.

"I'd be lying if I said not entirely."

"And here I thought you were trying to comfort me." You laugh, taking the strawberries he chopped and mixed it with the other ingredients. You think carefully on what you're about to say next.

"There was this one guy named [____], he thinks I'm annoying but... We... 'Talked' everyday, but one day he just suddenly killed himself." You wonder if you were the reason, though it's too far fetched, you still felt guilty.

"...i see, but you shouldn't blame yourself. It's not your fault, he must've had his own problems." He says... For some reason, you felt like he sounded awfully guilty too.

"...You're right."

You glance back at your baking progress only to see that it's already prepared for the oven. "Oh... It seems like we were taking too much I didn't even realize."

"Focus. Place that in the oven for 40 minutes." He orders, you nod and follow obediently.

As that was done, you breathe out a sigh. "Where's your bathroom?" You ask.

"Go to that hallway, you'll find it eventually."

You didn't bother to ask more and marched straight into it.

Whilst walking, you find... His room, no, it might be an office knowing who he is.

Your curiosity lead to dumb decisions such as this one, so you open the door which was surprisingly open. The room felt fancy and professional, you felt like you were a dirt intruding inside a perfectly clean place.

The walls were decorated with a bunch of awards, eight doctoral degrees, outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering— ah, you felt dizzy.

"Uwah..." You felt jealous, though it must've been stressful and uneasy to achieve all this. You send a regard in your mind for him, hoping that he didn't stress all this too much.

You wonder why you were even next to him, how could you even stand next to someone such as him, it felt like something out of fantasy, only someone with the same level as him should he be talking to. You were a simpleton compared to him.

Being in character of a simpleton, a stupid, brainless simpleton, you dig more on his room, to that resulted of you seeing a notebook placed on a desk. "Looks important... Is this his diary or something?"

Despite saying that, you still flipped the notebook into a page, reading it...

[Name] [Last Name]

Home Planet: Cosmos

Gender: [______]

Species: Human

Height: [______]

Weight: [______]

Address: [______]

Social Security Number: [______]

Birthdate: [______]

Collage Campus: [______]

Degree: [______]

Average Grade: 57% —> 96%

Biological Parents:

Mother: [______] - Occupation: The IPC Strategic Investment Department

Father: [______] - Deceased

Huh? Isn't this your... Private information... Why... Is it in his handwriting...? Your hand reluctantly flips to the next page.

[Name] [Last Name]'s history with their mother isn't difficult to understand, they're not fond of their mother for the sole reason of abandonment and high expectations, their mother does not have the time to raise a child for she is busy working for the IPC. However, she holds high expectations for [Name] despite not teaching them and leaving them to fend for their own without help, naturally, [Name], without tools, [Name] learned nothing and struggled to understand the materials exposed to them. With no choice left, their mother found a teacher that will help them raise up to her expectations.

I do not understand why she chose me out of everyone, perhaps because of the same age we have, but unlike them, my standards were advanced, choosing me will only cause [Name] to struggle more, I feel bad, so I set my teachings to them to be more tame and easy to understand, but difficult enough for them to improve even slightly, but to my utter surprise, they followed along with it. Not to say that they didn't struggle, in fact, they struggled greatly, but despite that, they pursued the materials. Despite their many flaws, they strive for the betterment of themselves.

Struggles and insecurities, they suffer from anxiety and depression, for one, they struggle to be hygienic and procrastinate, they prefer to relax and wallow on their own self pity rather than choose to study, they have a rather low view of themselves and low confidence, dead honest about thinking that they're a hopeless idiot, however they cover the fact that they think of that by joking around and putting up a false confidence to everyone. They care about the well-being of other people more than themselves. On the other hand, they feel the fear from failure, evident by how their hand trembles whenever they feel like—

Enough. You felt cold sweat dripping on you face. That's... Too much, he isn't supposed to know all this. It's you personal thing. How did he even...

You don't why, you really don't know why you still haven't left the notebook alone and left the room, you don't know why you still flipped to the next page.

Spreading rumors about them weren't difficult, as it seems like all those people are easily swayed by simple words, however, through that action, [Name] regretfully became a target of bad intent. Through pros and cons, I conclude that it was worth it, the sight of [Name] relying on me is ever so priceless.

[____], a wretch, a classmate of [Name], bullying [Name] over his own insecurities, rather than taking it out on something else, he takes out his pent up stress on other people, [Name] being the victim. [Name] seems to have noticed this, so rather than telling people of fighting back, they endured it, telling nobody about it (even me). I have a speculation that they simply endured it with a naive thought of helping that ignorant wretch.

He appears to have a delicate ego and heart, as it turns out he was taking it out on [Name] simply because he admired me and thinking that it should be him that I should be teaching rather than [Name]. As said, he had a delicate ego and a delicate heart, so it wasn't difficult to shatter it into pieces. I admit, though immoral, I found his dismay satisfying, ignorant people like him deserved to jump off that building—

You head snapped to the door and you felt a chilling sensation on your spine.

No longer wearing his mask, his head leaned onto the doorframe.

You drop the note book on the floor, seeing as pictures of you that were stuck on that note book to fly and scatter on the ground.

"Had fun reading? Were even in terms of privacy, did I ever tell you that you can meddle with my notes?" He questioned, his face showed no emotion.

"...Why— Why would y-you—?" You felt tears invade your vision, you heart being constricted.

"I take it were gonna have a long conversation later? No, actually..." He says, getting closer to you, you instinctively take the same steps back.

He gets closer and closer until your back is facing the wall, he placed a hand to obscure your vision. Perhaps the reason he covers his face around you, is because he's just as an open book as you when he's around you, he can't have you seeing his overly infatuated expression, even after he was trying so hard to hide it.

"Let's settle this short, right here, right now, I'll tell you everything. We have 25 minutes left, can't have the cake burning in the oven for too long can we?"

a/n: fun fact! just in case you missed it, at the first part of this short story, dr ratio subconsciously turned his head away from you because he was flustered by your gratefulness for him, sorry if it sounded like a vent at some parts, idk what occurred to me 💀, maybe it's because dr ratio is ironically my comfort character, i hate people like him irl but...

[phyrestartr]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you take requests but I have an idea-

Reincarnated! Husband sukuna x Dead spouse (husband) Male Reader: this one is kind of like sukuna fucks up a lot, I think this can work out as an omegaverse? He cheats, fucks around, or doesn't even give af about m reader who is his fated pair, but then m! reader died and since they were mated he's like “shit I can't live without him” so he tries to be good to him the next life and they have happy family the end.

Replay (This Time I'll Get It Right) | Sukuna x Male!Reader (Part 1 of 2)

W/C: 1.6k #alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, ABO dynamics, mentions of stalking, mentions of toxic exes, sukuna sucks, sukuna sucks less eventually, reincarnation, next lives, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, infidelity/cheating

NOTE: Thank you for your patience!! It's still not quite done, but I wanted to post the first part up while i think of the rest of the story (got a vague idea of how it'll go, so should come out soon). Ty for the req!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

♪ Here With Me - d4vd

♪ Watch the sunrise along the coast

As we’re both getting old ♪

Sukuna puffed on a cigarette, staring out at the city lights. You always liked coming here, to this little cliff hanging above the city–especially when you were stuck on lyrics or tabs of whatever song you were working on. This hillside spot was cheesy and stupid, but you loved the way it felt like an old-school chick flick when you drove up here in your beater.

In this spot, Sukuna realized you had an old soul, one that basked in the simple, mundane things like stargazing and city-watching. It was a step away from feeding pigeons in the park, your producer decided. The way that made you laugh still sent his heart on a wild chase. That, too, was the first moment he realized he wanted you more than just a collaborator. 

And, maybe, if he had pushed aside the partying, the drugs, the women, he might’ve bothered checking his phone. He might’ve been able to apologize for wrongs done and words said, to get back on the right track. He might've not found out about you on the news. Maybe he could have given you everything you wanted–

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

♪ I can’t describe what I’m feeling

And all I know is we’re going home ♪

Even after locking you down and starting on that stupid journey to start a family, his spirit still yearned to wander free. 

So it did. 

Primal wants controlled him. He allowed them to steer him away from the safety of your touch and into the gnashing jaws of excitement, of danger. All because the two of you were starting to make it–you were starting to leave your mark on this world, and Sukuna let the fame and greed get to him. 

But how could he not jump at the chance to fuck the famous and infamous? How could he stay faithful to just you, a smalltown boy, when big city celebrities reached out to him, pulling him into big deals and bigger beds? How could he–

His phone blitzed to life again, ringing in the hollow quiet of a too-expensive car. The call went to voicemail, leaving him in the pits of Tartarus again, drowning in the frigid rain beating against his car windows like a million bullets trying to seek the death penalty.

Did angels do that? Take revenge for their own kind? He’d understand it. Jin, an angel in his own right, exiled his Luciferian twin from the celestial plane, barring him from what was left of that tiny spark of love and hope he called “family.” 

♪ So please don’t let me go, oh

Don’t let me go ♪

His phone rang again. He remembered picking it up once upon a time, listening to your shaky voice as you told him the worst and best news he’d ever heard in his entire existence: “I’m pregnant.” 

Sukuna didn’t know what true fear and excitement were until that moment. You laughed through waterworks, lifted by Sukuna’s uncontrolled motor-mouthing and celebrating as he hooted and hollered on the other line. The women your husband was with gave him weird looks, but he didn’t care–you were pregnant. You were going to–

You were going to have his kid. His pup. A shared little joy, a spark of hope for the future. And then–then someone took that away. 

The sorry waste of life, the obsessive ex you vehemently feared, left behind a note for whomever found the tragedy: “I'll take care of them from now on.”

Sukuna knew there had to be more to it, there had to be more of an explanation, but the media wasn't interested; they only wanted to use and abuse your name and face for articles and news reports, not to reminisce on you nor the woe of a murder-suicide.

How come no one cared? Why did no one fucking care?

♪ Save your tears, it’ll be okay

All I know is you’re here with me ♪

He snapped. Sukuna kicked the dashboard. His boot cracked against the console again and again and again until your siren song died in a quick fit of static. He crashed his heel into the broken screen a dozen more times, each impact punching shout after shout out of his tight throat as the weight of the fucking sky collapsed on him. He wasn’t Atlas. He couldn’t hold it up. He never could, not by himself.

Sukuna heaved in breaths. His stomach swirled and churned with nausea. He held his head and leaned back, screaming into the thunder that shook the world with a vital roar, hiding heartbroken howls.

Why? Why? Why? 

“Deep breaths, Sukuna,” your voice cooed. It came from the darkness, from the forgotten corners of his mind. Why were–ah, right. He’d been here before, overcome with agony and grief. Unable to breathe, unable to cope, unable to exist.  

He followed your instructions. 

“In. Out. In. Out.”

In. Out. In. Out.

The phone rang again. Sukuna answered. He hoped whoever it was would tell him this was all just a bad joke. A bad dream. It wasn’t real. 

“Finally,” Wasuke sighed on the other end of the line. “Kid, where the fuck are you?”

Sukuna stared up at the roof of the car. Words smeared and oozed like molasses in his mind. He couldn’t understand the words he knew he could understand. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What the fuck do I do?” Sukuna asked. His voice quivered. Chipped and cracked.

His father fell quiet. But he was wise. So fucking wise and so good at everything that came with life and death, morality and love. 

“Become a better man,” he said, like it was so simple. 

Sukuna scoffed. “H-How the fuck–”

“Quiet, kid.” Wasuke sighed. “That boy loved you. He had faith in you as a partner and a father. Remember that. Honour that, and become the man he knew you could be.”

Sukuna didn’t know his heart could break more, but it did. 

He sobbed. To his father, to himself, to you, to that unborn joy, to whatever fuckhead created life and love in the first place. He cried for forgiveness, for a second shot. 

“I’ll try,” Sukuna bit out. “I’ll try.” 

–

♪ I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind ♪

Sukuna woke up to that song. It was the same one that played in his nightmares, the same one that robbed him of sleep until he lost his mind and–and–

“What the fuck happened?” Sukuna croaked to whatever singing nymph fluttered around him. 

The damn song stopped, leaving Sukuna in just a second of tumultuous silence. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The rhythmic chirping of some machine–a heart monitor, maybe? A metronome?--kicked up into double time, jamming an ice pick into his skull further and further with every hellish second that passed by. He could almost hear the radio static, the warp of a ballad calling to him. And it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Why? Why? Why?

“Hey,” your voice cooed. Your hand rested atop of Sukuna's and squeezed. “Can you hear me?” 

Sukuna cracked a tired eye open to look up at you; you were perfect. God-given. A blessing he needed to see right now with your gentle eyes and kind smile, the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla cutting through the disgusting sterility of the room. 

“Can hear you,” Sukuna rasped. His hand tried to turn to hold yours, and you helped by slipping your palm into his. His heart rate slowed with the rhythm of the machine. 

You nodded and covered your clasped hands with your other one. “Good. You probably don't remember, but you were in an accident. A car side-swiped you when you were on your motorcycle.”

“No shit.” 

“Yes shit. But you're alright. Would recommend wearing a helmet from now on.” You pat his hand before slipping both of yours free. “I'll call the doctor and your family. They'll be glad to know you're awake, Itadori-san.” 

He wanted to ask you to stay. He didn't want you to go, not right then, maybe not at all. 

But you flashed him another comforting smile and slipped out of the room before he could object.

–

His father came by. Jin and his son, too. Uraume and Yorozu scolded him for not wearing a helmet. The ragtag group of hooligans he unfortunately associated with (just for the sake of going to their fancy-ass parties, he reasoned) came and went, too; Gojo gave him headaches, Getou made it worse, Ieiri wasn’t so bad.

Then there was you. You were always humming some sort of tune, whether it be the song from his nightmares or something he'd never heard before. Sukuna liked it, the sound of your voice, but you'd always clam up the second you realized someone might hear. 

It led him to pretend to be asleep far too many times during his recovery. Your songs eased his wildfire spirit, let it simmer down and curl up comfortably in a ring of stones to keep those near safe and warm without the fear of being burned alive. Hell, they could probably even make some s’mores if they wanted. 

Eventually, though, Sukuna wanted to know more. And what better person to ask than the burgeoning med student herself?

“Oh, [Name]?” Ieiri asked, sitting beside Sukuna’s bed and looking over the machines connected to Sukuna with rapt attention. “He’s a new-ish nurse from what I get. Pretty cute, huh? Apparently passed his exams no problem and–” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know relevant shit then just–”

“He’s single. Omega. Likes men. Kinda older than us. Gojo and Getou got rejected already.” 

That shut Sukuna up. 

[jksian]

When the end comes

You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.

Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader

Genre: ANGSTY, unrequited love

W/c: mid length?

warnings: depressing thoughts and implied suicidal thoughts, character dea*h, workplace harrasment, illness, family drama and step-parent, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, age gape

A/N- This story is incomplete and I don't intend to continue it, but I'm still posting it because I wanted to share it with you guys and since many of you expressed your desire to read it :⁠-⁠)

It was during the autumn season when he first met you.

Not in a literal sense; but that was the day he thought he finally come to knew you. A side of you, he never thought he would be able to witness.

Just like the sight in front of him right now.

He did not even fathom the idea of seeing you like this. Beautiful eyes which once shined so brightly under the sun; are now closed. Not even a hint of flickering of your eyelashes which you usually do while being extremely nervous.

Now, autumn has returned again; but, despite the comforting warmth of the cozy weather being replaced by the harsh wind blowing away the leaves from the trees, creating the atmosphere unbearably gloomy and dull.

Because the warmth is gone, along with you.

…

15 years ago…

“Why is he coming, now!? Fuck, I have to meet Sam!” Jia was beyond frustrated after knowing that her brother was coming to picked her up from the school.

Both you and Jia had been friends since your childhood. From being scolded by teachers to helping each other in anything and everything and being the ‘crime in partners’ duo, everyone in your school knew you two were inseparable.

She was always been a free-spirited girl. Generous and helpful, she was kind of a friend who stick by your side in bad times. Other than that, there were many good things about her and one of those were, her brother.

Jeon Jungkook.

The first time when you laid your eyes on him, you couldn’t able to remove the image of his glowing face ever since then. He was gorgeous as well as kind. You were smitten by his beauty. He was popular among girls. With a face like that, it was a very common fact, girls often got trapped by his good-looks which wielded them to the world of imagination.

And, you were one of those girls.

You often found yourself daydreaming about him, made silly scenarios in your little head. Your weekly visits to his sister’s house and getting to watch him closely more than any of those girls could, doesn’t help with your increasing amount of fake scenarios growing inside of your mind.

It was a stupid little crush, but you still held onto the possibilities of those cringe worthy romantic stories in your head to manifest it into reality.

Whenever he was around, every time you got a little bit shy but you tried your best to hide it from others.

“Someone clearly isn’t happy to see me.” Your best friend’s brother sing song those words towards his sister, pointing out her scowl which was very much evident on her face upon seeing him. The fact that she was planning on meeting her so-called-date in the name of fake extra classes would be caught red-handed, made her panicked and mad.

“H-hello.” You asked him even though your heart was racing at the speed of 100 mph and your hand was sweating like the Niagara waterfall, you still conjured up some courage to start the conversation.

“Moon? How are you?” He immediately replied with a sweet smile on his face. People often compared his face with the bunny and you can say why. There are some significant similarities.

You got a little bit flustered whenever he used that name. He gave that name to you because you loved the moon. So much so that you escaped from your school with your Jia to watch the night sky.

It was the first time you witnessed the true beauty of the moon. Sitting on the edge of the river near her house, you both admired the shinning moon light spreading on the water as it sparkled.

You both got scolded for your little escaped not just from your parents but your teachers also. From that moment, he gave you the name ‘moon.’

He was in his sophomore year of college, got an scholarship to study in abroad. It was winter at that time when he got back in his own country during holidays. Even though the atmosphere was cold, Jungkook radiated warmth wherever he goes. He was always been the one who shined brightly in whatever he did.

Jia’s endless pleading didn’t helped much in convincing her brother, so she didn’t had any choice but to went back home. Through out the way to her home, she kept on cussing him.

“You go on dates too! Even, you have a girlfriend!” That was the first time you experienced your first heart break. It felt like someone had put a knife into your heart.

“So? Are you the same age as me?” Jungkook reasoned with her but the thing you noticed that, he didn’t denied it. Your friend wasn’t lying.

The brother-sister duo busy their selves in an argument about “Jia should go on a date or not” where you went silent, had a emotional turmoil within you. It was so random, your little heart weren’t prepare for that news.

The thought of your crush loving someone else who was never gonna be you, shattered your heart. That day, you cried your heart out into your pillow at night when no one was around to heard your broken sobs.

…

Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.

But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.

Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.

The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.

Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.

She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.

Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.

He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.

You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.

When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.

“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.

When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.

You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”

Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.

“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.

“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms up and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stand there until you calmed down and was ready to talk.

When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poked a needle into your heart.

“I like someone.”

You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”

Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.

Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”

“Because, he has a girlfriend.”

Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.

“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”

You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?

No no, you couldn’t let that happen.

“how old is he?”

“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.

“May I know his nam– ,”

“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.

After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.

“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.

He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.

You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.

“–___, he didn’t do anything to you right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.

“N-no, why are you asking that?”

“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”

“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?

He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.

“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.

That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still you let that thing to engulfed you completely.

That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.

…

That year, your father got transferred to a different country, so without a doubt, it was the time when you part your ways with your best friend.

It was painful, parting ways with the friend you’ve spend your almost entire life, but what’s more painful, was not able to see your childhood love ever again.

That was the last time you saw Jungkook on your way to the airport, walking hand in hand with his girlfriend.

You didn’t knew back then when someone’s in love, how they looked like. That radiant smile on his face and the glitter in his eyes when he looked at her shined so brightly made you think that, maybe it was the face of a man in love.

But, the sad thing was, you were not the reason behind that smile on his face.

…

8 years ago

Life wouldn’t be anymore shittier.

After you left your country, you tried your hardest to overcome and forget about Jungkook.

You left everything behind and those memories you’d made with some of the closest people there, weren’t leaving your mind even for some moments. Every little thing you did back then, reminded you of them, especially Jungkook.

Still, you managed.

You did graduated from a college and got a job. Everything was going fine until you found out that you had pancreatic cancer.

Doctors said that it wasn’t in it’s last stage yet but after thousands of medications and appointments for half an year, before that day, they declared that you only had 10 months to live only.

Not even an year.

It was so unfair. You had dreams and goals which you still had to achieve but life had other plans for you.

Your health wasn’t well enough to maintain a 9-5 job, but, you still did it because you didn’t wanted to be a burden on your family.

You were twenty-four when you realized your life was going to end soon.

“What is this!? Are you gonna present this in front of the client?” Your boss shouted at you, that bald-faced nuisance who doesn’t even know how to pronounce ‘future’. Yeah, his future was as clear as his empty bald-head.

You’ve submitted the same project for the third time, because he wasn’t ‘satisfied’ with your work, but the truth was, he doesn’t even turned the first page of it to check. Clearly, he was just messing around with you or to be honest, harassing you.

The reason behind it – rejection. You rejected his offer of ‘get a promotion just by spending a night with him’. He was adamant on sleeping with you. His flirty remarks wasn’t very subtle, you knew this pervert would come to this point at sometime.

“Make this again!” he threw the file across the table towards you. It hits you and you cursed under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, his chimpanzee like face contort with anger once again.

He got a pretty punchable face.

“Have you checked my project, sir?” there was mockery in your voice which his one brain cell wasn’t able to comprehend.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” his brows were pinched together, flared his nose like a fucking dragon.

“I submitted the same project for the third time yet, you didn’t noticed that. Is your ego got hurt so much so that after my rejection, you’re doing this pity things to me now?”

His face goes through seven stages of grief, fear flashed through his eyes but, soon turned into rage. He abruptly stood up from his chair, banging his fist on the table, “What the hell are you talking about!? Have you forgotten your place? Don’t cross the limit, ____. You’re nothing, a good for nothing! You should know that, I’m your senior here, talk to me with respect! Or –,”

“Or what? Are you gonna complain? You know, I’m also going to complain about something…” You said, your tone as calm as ever but eyes hard as a rock.

He knew, what filthy texts he had sent you and obviously, you didn’t deleted them even though he had told you to. You thought, he might explode right at that moment out of anger, “Are you threatening me? Huh? What? Are you gonna complain about me now?”

“Yes, you asshole.”

“Bitch–,” He was going to hit you with a file but before he could do that, your colleagues interrupted and he stopped midway, pretending like nothing happened.

You stormed out of his office, never minding him calling your name continuously. Everyone in your office looked at you like you’d grown two horns on your head. You didn’t gave them any attention and straight up went to the CEO’s office.

He had threatened you countless times about how you were gonna lose your job if you don’t work how he wants you to, accordingly.

But, you had nothing to lose anymore.

After you filed a complain and submitted the resignation letter, you left that company. For good.

On the way to your home, you called your parents and told the you left your job. Your step-mom was more furious than your own dad.

Of course, you knew that would happen but what was the benefit of continuing the job when you won’t be alive anymore.

You hang up the call as soon as you heard her shouting from the other side.

You felt lost. What were you doing all these years?

Barely surviving.

You didn’t even know how it felt to live life. Not surviving, living.

All you did was, earning money with your fragile health to make it stronger but instead, it worsen even more at the end.

Now, you were on the brink of death.

Is it okay to leave everything behind? You thought. It wasn’t like you had much left in your life anyway. Your parents were stressed all the time because of you. Your sister were depressed after knowing about your condition.

Is it too soon to die in this moment? You asked yourself while standing at the edge of the bridge which connected two cities together. Staring at the river below, almost 136 meters high. You kept on staring blankly at the way water flows by, wondering where it might took you if you jump at this instance.

Before, your intrusive thoughts controlled you, your eyes landed on a bird, it’s wing crippled. It kept on chirping and tried to fly, but every time it does, landed on the surface of the barrier.

You slowly shifted closer to it, not wanted to scared it away and held it in your palms gently, “Hey, let me bandage you, okay? You will be able to fly again then!”

Fortunately, you had a small box of fast aid kit with you. Being a full-time patient and a regular visitor to the hospital, you got accustomed with the medical kits and medicines.

You swiftly bandaged the wounded wing carefully while rubbing its back.

“Do you have a name?”

The bird wiggled into your hold a little. You realized how dumb that question was, but you’d always liked talking to animals even though they couldn’t reply back to you or even understood you. All they did was, stare at your face dumbfoundedly, probably judging the crazy women in front of them.

After you were done, you released it from your hold and you saw the bird flying again.

The happiness you felt at that moment was indescribable. It felt like, you were cured from your deathly disease and your death sentence has been halt for a long period of time.

You felt like, you could live your life, just like that bird.

You felt…alive for a moment.

You didn’t knew when you started crying, tears ran down on your cheeks, on their own. You saw the bird fly happily. It wasn’t fully recovered yet, but still, the determination and courage ignited something inside of you.

At that moment, you regain the courage to live your life.

Not surviving anymore but, living your life to its fullest. At least for once.

…

Convincing your family wasn’t easy, especially your step-mother.

You had decided that, you want to spend your last days of your life in your hometown, which meant, you all had to move back to your old country where, once you left everything behind.

“I want to live my life before I die, dad. I want to live and do all those things while I’m still alive… because I don’t want regret it on my last days. Please, let me fulfil all those dreams before I left this earth?”

You father rarely saw you crying since you’d grown up. Not that you often cried in front of people, you always preferred crying silently in the dark of your room, hiding from everyone.

It was surprising to him.

But, the most surprising thing was, when you saw tears in his eyes. Your father was someone who believed that, crying was a sign of weakness.

But, he didn’t showed that to you, hiding his face from you, he said, “Then go, start packing your bags.”

You didn’t believe your own ears, did you heard it right?

You couldn’t contained your excitement as you hugged your father from behind and said, “Thank you.”

Tears breamed from your eyes after realizing that, finally you were going back to your country.

…

The streets still looked almost the same where you had spent your entire childhood, just not as much calm and warm as it used to be.

So many residents were built there now, it was more hectic and crowded. Thankfully, your old house was on sale at that time. The owner whom your father had sold that house to, wanted to sell it and your father bought it.

The walls of that house held so many memories, many untold truths and evidence of your cruel sleepless nights. The whispers of heart break buried in a corner of your room. All those memories came back to your mind and you found yourself day-dreaming about your old crush again.

“Where Jungkook might be right now?”

“What are you thinking about?” your sister came up behind you, noticing your eyes fixed on the direction of his house.

Your sister had graduated at the same year when you guys moved here. You were more than happy that she decided to start her career here and stayed with you, at least for that reason, you were able to spent your last days with her.

She knew about every single thing happened in your life and Jungkook wasn’t exceptional.

“Nothing…”

“Don’t lie. You were thinking about Jungkook, right?”

Oh god. Hearing that name after so many years, felt surreal. It only intensified the longing you were feeling all those years. Your eyes slightly widened but you dismissed immediately.

“No, you idiot. Go and do your work.”

“You don’t? Okay then, if you say so… but you should probably call Jia, she will be so happy to see you again!”

“I’ll call her later but now, my head is aching! Can you please make me some tea?” you pouted at her, gave her those innocent doe eyes. She glared at you in return, with bombastic side eyes, she left the room.

You giggled and heard her cursing back at you. You laughed a little more at that. Your bond with your sister was special. Something very close to your heart. She was the only family you had, according to you.

Your parents got divorced when you were only twelve years old, so figuring out what was going on and adjusting to the situation was difficult for you. Separating from your mother was especially harder, you thought of her as your best friend but…

No one’s gonna stay with you for forever and you learned it the hard way.

Ever since then, so many things changed in your life. Your father married again in the hope that, you and your sister might be able to experience the motherly love from her, but instead you got more pain and suffering.

She was at your throat for every single second, peace was something you used to crave, if not love. You never felt at home. When you found out about your disease, it was a disaster; but still, all she cared about was money.

How thoughtful!

You decided to take your sister’s advice and called your best friend. After eight years, you were again in your hometown. It was so nostalgic that you got emotional.

All the furniture were yet to be settled, your bed wasn’t ready to be used so you took a seat on your window, staring outside.

As you saw the canvas of the evening sky transforms into a masterpiece of hues, a tapestry of twilight unfolds, painted in soft pastels — a symphony of peach, lavender, and whispers of indigo. That moment felt celestial as your heart filled with an unknown warmth and you found yourself embracing your own body into your arms.

You had called her few times in all those years and she did too; but, with time, the busy schedules and hectic day to day life forced both of you to grew apart. The calls kept on reducing in number and, then it stopped altogether.

The call rang for four times before she picked up. For some moments, you were just staring at each other’s faces, network wasn’t working on your favor so it took time to get a clear picture of her face.

“You’re still alive?” was the first thing she asked you, very typical ‘Jia’ like behavior.

“Yeah, I’m still alive. Thank you very much! How are you?” you humored her and you saw her scoffed.

“You tell me, where were you? Huh? NO calls! NO massages!… were you gone underground or something? Oh no, wait! You forgot about me, right?”

She kept on blabbering her nonsense, falsely accusing you, dramatically thrown tantrums at you. You saw her brows pinched together as she glared at you which was supposed to be intimidating.

“Well, I’m in our hometown.”

“…What?!”

She couldn’t believe your words so you turned the camera around and gave her the view of the street where you guys used to run and play.

You saw her eyes widened and mouth gaped at the view, she scrutinized the area a little bit longer and made sure it was indeed her hometown.

“Fuck, bro! why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you, but well, looks like you’re not here.”

Her face turned into a sad expression from irritation, mirroring your own face.

You knew you would’ve told her, but you genuinely wanted to gave her a surprise with your arrival, in which failed miserably!

“It’s fine, I’m coming home in a few days.” That comforted you to some extent, knowing that you would be able to meet your best friend after all those years finally, before you die. It certainly gave you some comfort.

No one knew about your condition except your family, not even your best friend. The reason being, you wanted a normal life.

You didn’t wanted those sympathetic looks from others or them doing things for your just because you are gonna die soon.

No, you wanted them to act normal, just like they always did.

You didn’t wanted them to felt some urgency or pressure.

You didn’t wanted them to feel bad or guilty for you.

No, you wanted them to treat you normally, just like they had been with you ever since they met you.

Just a normal life before you die, where you can enjoy every second of your life and live it with others. Was that too much to ask for?

“Come back soon then,” Your smile held a sense of nostalgia and melancholy in it and for a brief second, you thought you saw tears in her eyes.

“By the way, have you informed others?” She changed the subject, probably didn’t wanted to cry at that moment of happiness.

“Yeah, we are going to meet at a club in this evening.”

“That’s great! Have fun then and also… is Jay coming?” she smirked at the camera and arched a brow at you.

Having a crush was different but this guy was on another level. He was head over heels for you. You never understood his obsession or love (what he used to say) for you. He was the same age as Jungkook. It wasn’t like he wasn’t good looking, on the contrary, he was charming. A guy for any girl would fall for. Topper of his class with that cute face of his, he got the whole package.

But, you never felt anything for him. So the first time he confessed to you, you straight up said ‘no’. Maybe it was a bit rude, not that you were denying but You never grasped the concept of leaving someone in ambiguity without providing a clear response, especially when it involved feelings.

“Do you want me to bonk you in the head? Why would he come to our reunion party? Come on…he isn’t even belong to our friend circle!” You said in disbelief and she rolled her eyes a little more.

“Dude, he was obsessing over you for such a long time! I’m sure he might be into you after all these year– ,”

“Jia–, you know how I feel about this–,” Yeah, she does. She knew everything, “Can we please drop it?”

She dropped the topic after your pleading. You always got irritated whenever she acted this way, teasing you by someone’s name who had a crush on you, constantly encouraged you to start dating one of them. You being you, never listened to her.

You both talked about things in general after that and then hang up.

Yeah, it was good. If not telling anyone about your sickness helped you live the way you wanted to, then, it’s okay.

As soon as you hang up the call, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. You breathed in and out as you tried to endure it. Probably because you hadn’t took your medications yet. That’s why it was happening. You’d accustomed with all this by that time, so it wasn’t any thing new to you.

You were fine.

…

The city you lived in looked different but still, there was a familiarity in it.

Sidewalks hum with activity as people strolled, laughter echoed from cafes, and the distant sounds of traffic created a vibrant urban symphony. The evening air carried a blend of aromas from food vendors, filled your noses trills and made your stomach grumbled.

You met with your school friends at the club 15 minutes away from your house as planned. Coming to a club doesn’t made sense to you, because you weren’t able to drink alcohol, but.. well… you were there because of your… friends.

You sat on a stool which were lined the polished counter, where patrons sipped drinks and shared laughter. You watched your friends danced across the crowded dance floor, lost in their own world.

You saw Kai from your friends group, approaching you, came straight at the direction where you were seated. You quickly reverted your eyes to somewhere, acted like you hadn’t even noticed him just now, like any other introvert, focusing on your drink in your hand.

“Hey, ____! Long time no see.” Yeah, it would be longer if he weren’t just interrupted your peaceful time there.

He was grinning ear to ear like he just found some treasure. You adjusted yourself to looked at him, “Yeah, Hey! How are you?”

“Oh fine, just living the busy life of a busy man. You say, what you’re been up to these days?” oh, nothing special, just waiting to be embraced by death and, oh! Also trying to have a peaceful time which now has been disrupted. You hoped you’d be able to say that on his face but… oh, well… manners!

“Nothing special –,” He pulled a stool beside you and hopped on it, “You say?”

You watched him settling beside you comfortably. You internally rolled your eyes when you realized he probably wasn’t going anywhere soon.

He started talking about his life which you didn’t mind any attention to, you were busy finding loopholes to escaped the man in front of you. You eyes darted frantically everywhere around the club to found any of your friends, anyone, but the crowd made it harder to spot any of them.

He offered you a tequila which you politely refused. Then, he continued insisting on buying you a drink, his words laced with determination, the alcohol in his system clearly kicked out at that moment. The background buzz of the bar heightened as he tried to charm you into accepting, created a moment of tension which wasn’t a good kind.

Despite your clear signal of disinterest, he remained persistent. It ultimately left you annoyed than ever. The last time, your refusal was harsh, words came out of your mouth was rude but the situation particularly made it harder for you to be calm, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want a drink? It would be great if leave me alone.”

He took that to his heart, it seemed, because the look he gave you was similar to Chihuahua dogs when angry. You never got what this boy’s problem was, even any other boy who tried to pursued you before.

Why boys don’t know when to stop and have no shame? Universal question. The whole world wanted to know the answer, included yourself.

“Why the attitude? I’m just trying to be friendly! Damn, seems like you don’t deserve that–,” He scoffed, “you’ve become more hot, not gonna lie; but, that hard-to-get bitchy attitude is still there.”

The audacity he had!

You raised an eyebrow but maintained your composure. “Friendly doesn’t usually come with comments like that. It’s about mutual respect,” You retorted.

He leaned against the counter, undeterred. “Come on, no need to be so serious. I’m just being honest here. You were always good looking and now, you looks irresistible, but the attitude…”

You sighed, contemplated on if you walked out of there or slap him across his face, “Honesty is appreciated when it’s respectful. Your comments are crossing the line.”

Unfazed, he chuckled, “I just call it like I see it. No harm meant.”

“Well, it’s causing harm. I value my personal space and expect to be treated with respect,” You stated firmly.

He scoffed again, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a bit. Not every compliment is an attack.”

As his audacity reached new heights with an attempt to grab your arm, frustration surged within you. You were on the verge of snapping back, but just in the nick of time, a familiar voice called your name, halting your impending outburst.

“Hey, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

You turned your face to your left and saw Jungkook standing there, a n knowing smile on his face which he usually made when he got annoyed or angry.

Relieved and equally surprised to hear his familiar voice, you redirected your attention, grateful for the interruption regardless.

You stared at him with wide eyes, still thinking that if he was real or not. He glanced at the guy who had attempted to grab your arm, his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Is everything okay here?" Jungkook asked, his tone carried a subtle warning.

The guy got tensed, visibly uncomfortable under Jungkook’s scrutiny, stammered, “Just a misunderstanding, man.”

Jungkook’s demeanor remained stern as he replied, “Best not to misunderstand personal boundaries. She’s not interested.”

His hand was on your shoulder in a comforting manner. With that, Jungkook subtly positioned himself between you and the guy, creating a clear physical barrier. The unwelcome intruder, perhaps sensed the shift in dynamics, made a hasty exit. His protective side kicked out.…

…Like any other big brother might had.

Being the protective big brother he was, Jungkook had a younger sister, so dealing with guys hitting on her became a familiar scenario for him. He had accumulated experience in handling such situations.

Yeah, he still saw you like his little sister.

“Jungkook…” Words came out breathy form your mouth like you still hadn’t believe him standing there. The feeling you had buried in a corner of your heart years ago resurfaced once again, the bittersweet warmth you used to feel whenever you saw him bloomed inside of your heart.

Jungkook’s gaze held a mix of familiarity and affection, and you found myself lost in the moment, the years melting away.

“Hey –,” He said softly as he stand in front of you, “Are you okay?”

When he smiled at you, you realized his smile was still the same, radiated warmth and playfulness. That boyish innocence was still there but with a mix of mature allure that time. That doe-like, expressive eyes that held a certain depth, his gaze was both inviting and enigmatic, in which you found yourself drowned.

There were significant changes in his appearance though, like the tattoos on his arm and those piercings on his eyebrows, ears and even his lips. You stared at him absentmindedly before he spoke, “Moon? I asked if you’re okay?” That name again!

“Yeah, right… I’m okay. Thank you, Jungkook.”

He smiled at your response as he said, “I didn’t knew you were in the town.”

“Yeah, no one does actually. I wanted to surprise Jia, but she is out of the country so…’

“Right, she is.” Then silence settled between you two. Before it could got more awkward, Jungkook said, “So…how is life going?” as he took the seat on which Kai was settled before.

How were you gonna answer that? Your life… you felt like it was never yours. You moved out of the country because of your father, you got a college degree so you could help your family financially, then you diagnosed with a disease which eventually going to kill you so you didn’t had much time left.

But, in all of these, what you did for yourselves? When was the time you actually lived your life?

You didn’t had an answer to that tbh.

“Nothing special. My dad got retired so we thought about coming back to our country.” You answered, swirling the glass of virgin mojito in your hand. “and, what about you?”

“Me?” He asked, his doe eyes staring wide at you, chucking a little, he replied, “Came back to my home after realizing, I’m not gonna get a job there any time soon, not bad though–,” He glanced over your shoulder as you saw something flickered in his eyes, “ –Then thought about starting my own business, now I got my own tattoo shop.”

You saw him frequently glancing over your shoulder, as if someone was behind you whome was trying to see.

“Oh! That’s awesome!”

He didn’t replied and kept staring at a particular direction behind you. When you attempted to look behind, he stopped you by grabbing your arm. “Yeah, it is.”

He let out a laugh which clearly indicated his nervousness. “Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Is someone behind me?”

“Yeah… it’s just my ex.”

He said that casually as if he wasn’t just trying to desperately snatch a glance at her. You didn’t understand, his ex?

You remember his girlfriend. What was her name again?

Nina? Nanny? Ah, no. Yes!

Nancy. She was his girlfriend whom he invited to the thanksgiving party. As far as you knew, they were still dating according to Jia even though she confessed that to you a long time ago.

“Umm– Jungkook? I need more context to understand what you’re talking about. So, fill me in what I’m missing out?” You squinted at him dramatically and he laughed a little at your ministration.

That same smile which was enough to make your heart flutter and skip a beat.

“It’s nothing, just that…” He paused midway and glanced over your head again before continuing, “We broke things up a few months ago. Decided to go separate ways because we didn’t work out eventually?”

There was a question mark at the end, you wondered why was that for. Was he not know why they broke up? That’s sounds silly. Maybe, he was confused after they broke things up and thought that he made a mistake there? He might still wanted to be with her?

Before your train of thought escalate even further, He tapped you on your shoulder and brought you back to the reality, “Earth to ___,” You saw him smiling at you, “What are you thinking?”

You were wearing off shoulders, so, the naked touch of his fingers upon your skin kindled a transient flame, imprinting an indelible mark of his presence that will linger unwelcomed for the next few days.

“N-nothing, what were you saying again?” shaking the dizziness from witnessing the stars in his eyes, you asked. It’s normal for a human being like you, feeling dizzy after touched by someone made of stars. Gotta be grounded, you aren’t allowed to touch the stars, you reminded yourself.

“I asked, if you want to dance with me. Would you?” He asked as he extended his hand for you. You knew, you shouldn’t touch the stars but the shining flow of it made you blinded to the upcoming consequences of your actions.

You should knew well, why he was asking for a dance. His ex was still behind you so the only reason would be to – made her jealous, still you reciprocated.

You warned him about your lack of knowledge in dancing, nonetheless, he pulled you to the dance floor.

Placed your hands on his shoulder and his on your waist, he instructed you to move. As soon as, you two stepped on the dance floor, the song changed to a melodic one from a upbeat song.

Apocalypse by cigarettes after sex started playing in the background and you found yourself staring at the men in front of you for a second before you broke the eye contact.

Even thought you turned you face to the other side you could feel his eyes on you, making your mind go blank.

He pulled you closer, bodies Pressed together as both of you started to move in sync with the music. His breath hit the side of your face, making your breath hitched after knowing the close proximity between you two.

“____,” He called, your name sounded pretty from his lips, “Look at me.”

It sounded like a demand but his tone suggested other wise. Tender and delicate, as his soft lips brushed against your hairline, made you gulped the lump forming in your throat.

You did look him in the eyes. His gaze, held galaxies within, each flicker echoing the poetry of an undiscovered universe, in which you found yourself lost.

“You’re doing good. Just don’t think too much and let your body move according to the rhythm –,” He said, his gaze focused on your face, closer than before. The ambient lighting casted a soft glow, accentuating his delicate features, his words gave you courage, an unfamiliar sense of comfort and his face made you thought that you had someone you could rely on.

In that shared gaze, time momentarily freezes and you found yourself falling for him, again.

“Aish…I sounded like some know-it-all, I think? don’t mind it, please.” There was nervousness in his voice, fleeting glances searched for reassurance to make sure you didn’t found that offensive.

You didn’t help but realized how thoughtful and considerate a person could be that he was worrying about something so small. It wasn’t even sounded offensive to you, it was just a suggestion, guidance to someone who doesn’t know the ‘D’ of dancing.

Like a delicate melody played on uncertain notes—a sincere expression that made his words all the more genuine and endearing and you found that oddly charming.

You couldn’t help but smiled at him, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind at all, but… I might get offended if you don’t tell me the truth right now.” You teased, slightly grinding at him.

He pinched his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you. . . Somehow trying to make your ex jealous? Because if you are, I think it’s working.”

His eyes widened a bit, clearly wasn’t expecting something like that. He, again, glanced over to the girl who was still standing at the same spot for ten minutes, observing every move you two made.

“I– No–, I mean not exactly,” He looked at you with a hint of guilt in his eyes, giving you an apologetic smile, “Well, not gonna lie. I did tried to make her kinda jealous – but it wasn’t the entire reason why I asked you for a dance.” You found a hint of panic in his eyes, again looking like he didn’t wanted to offend by any means, which you found enduring. Why does he cared so much? You thought.

You couldn’t help but saw this little things in people, especially the people you held close to your heart.

“Then, why did you asked?”

“Because, I wanted to.” He said casually, as if he didn’t just made you skipped your heart beat a little faster. You shifted your gaze to the other side, feeling weird emotions about the person you wouldn’t felt. Nonetheless, you chuckled a little bit.

“You would have told me earlier, then I might have put more effort.”

“So, you aren’t putting effort yet?” He giggled, eyes gleamed under the light.

“No – I didn’t mean that, but, now we have a mission in our hands, so we better win it!”

He made a look of knowing, realized what you were implying. He let out a chuckle, shook his head at you adorably and gripped your hand a bit firmly, pulling you a little bit closer as if there were any gap in between.

Your chest flashed against his, the burning heat of your cheeks might be visible by then, you felt his thumb rubbing slowly at your waist where he was holding you. That small gesture was supposed to be comforting but it only made your cheeks grew a shade brighter.

You thanked the dimly lights of the club.

The evening went by just the two of you holding each other close as you swung your bodies to the unfamiliar melodies. This time, there was no barrier in between you two, like, ‘he see me as his sister’ or ‘he has a girlfriend.’

…

Sometimes, It was hard for you to understand Jia.

That one time when she asked if she could borrow your white gown on her birthday. Of course you gave that to her. It was her birthday party in the evening, so you didn’t grasp the fact why she wanted to wore something …old, when she had a new dress waiting for her in her wardrobe.

But, then switched her dress to that very new black dress in the middle of that party. When you asked her, she refused to gave you an explanation, which baffled you and left you confused.

Even though you didn’t liked her odd behavior that night, you let that slipped.

“Taehyung is looking at your direction –,” one of the girls from your class whispered in your ears as she giggled like a typical teen girl next to you.

All of your friends were sitting at the cafeteria, munching on your food. It was a typical boring day at school until your eyes landed on Jungkook. He was in the senior year and also the captain of school soccer team.

When you were busy drooling over him, your friends started making their own theories.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him staring at ___ quite often.” Other girl from your same table passed a comment.

Kim Taehyung was in the soccer team as well but a year older than Jungkook, but they were like brothers, the ‘IT’ best friend duo. It was quite usual for you to saw Taehyung whenever Jungkook was around. He was with him almost all the time.

But, you never noticed him staring at you. You thought they were making silly scenarios in their little head in hope of some Juicy gossip until you noticed, Kim Taehyung staring at your direction.

“Stop, guys! He is probably looking at somewhere else or looking for someone? Who knows!” You shrugged them off, not wanted to participate in their nonsense.

The men, they were talking about was the ‘sweetheart’ of your high school, every other girl was smitten by him, so it was a bit difficult for you to accept that he might had a crush on you.

“___, you are dangerously oblivious.” Then they laughed as if they just discovered the funniest joke of the century, their laughter echoed through out the cafeteria except from you and Jia.

It was easy to assume someone’s weight just by looking at the structure of their body until you had to carry them.

“Fuck! He is heavy dude!” Jia cursed under her breath, unable to hide the suffering of carrying Jimin all the way up to the 5th floor to Jungkook’s apartment.

“He doesn’t seem like–,” You were about to trip and fall, but adjusted yourself quickly. “yeah, he is heavy.”

The knock on his door wasn’t too loud as you made sure not to woke any neighbors up 2 in the morning.

You heard a groan along with some footsteps before the door swung open in front of you and you wished that you wouldn’t saw what you’d saw.

There was Jungkook, naked and standing in his full glory. Thank God, he had a sweat pant on.

You immediately looked down out of respect and…well, shyness? Because the way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing. You were flustered and you hoped, no one noticed.

Jungkook made a surprised gasped and scrunched his brows out of confusion, “What are you guys doing here at this hour? I- wait, is that jimin?”

“Yes!! Now help us, dummy.” Jungkook grabbed Jimin’s arm but not before shooting a glare at his sister’s direction, gave her a look of ‘you better shut the fuck up.’

He took jimin from you two and carried him like his weight was nothing, held him like a feather. Before the three of you could reach out to the sofa, you saw Taehyung came out of another room.

“What’s going on in the middle of the night?” His deep voice was an octave lower, clearly he was in his dreamland. With a scowl, he rubbed his eyes and looked at his very drunk friend, “Wait – Is that jimi– Is he dead?” He dramatically gasped.

“No. But, tell me, are you two…gay?” She asked them quietly, made it more dramatic by her expressions. Her mischievous eyes shifted to Taehyung from Jungkook, then again on Jungkook.

Taehyung gave a glare at her direction, no words left from his mouth. The poor guy just woke up at the middle of the night and accused of fucking Jungkook. You held your laughter back, didn’t wanted to make it more chaotic than it already was.

“No– I mean you look like you just had a rough night and–,”

“Jia, will you shut up?” Jungkook’s voice was stern, as if he was holding himself back. His sister knew how to get on his nerves, for sure.

Ignoring the fact that she was about to bring scolded by her elder brother, she took the responsibility and filled him up with the information.

��We were at this bar and we saw Jimin there…lying on a couch. The owner was searching for his friends but, since they weren’t there, we took him here.” She chirped, feigning innocence as if she didn’t just called her brother gay.

Jia decided to met you at this famous bar, again you went along with the idea even though you knew the fact that, you won’t be able to drink anything.

At least you liked the ambience of the bar, until you found a very drunk blonde haired guy laying on a couch, almost knocked out. The owner was literally about to kick him out if it weren’t for you and Jia arrived at the right time.

“He was supposed to join us.” Taehyung shook his head in disappointment, letting out a huff, he walked over to Jimin who was finally knocked out on Jungkook’s couch. Following Taehyung’s lead, you sit beside Jimin, scrutinizing his face for any discomfort he might had.

Your gaze briefly flickered towards Jungkook, caught him staring at you, before he quickly averted his eyes towards Taehyung. You knew, it wasn’t anything you might had thought of, but the way your stomach flipped over wasn’t something normal.

“What you guys were even doing?” Jia asked exaggeratedly, squinted her eyes at both men in front of her suspiciously.

Yes, Jungkook and Taehyung was like brothers since they were in high school, probably saw shits of each other which might had never been seen by anyone, their bromance was top-notch but that doesn’t allow people to question about their sexuality. You knew, Jia was just joking and probably pulling her brother’s leg off and besides, Jungkook has a girlfriend. Or so, had.

They might broke up, but the possibility of him having feelings for her was strong, because of the dance you two had that night at the club. No person who doesn’t had any feelings for their ex would did such thing to just made them jealous. He doesn’t said that, he doesn’t had to, it was all clear in his eyes or so you noticed.

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 1

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: it’s september 29th, 2003, and joel cannot wrap his head around the fact that sarah is truly gone. as he’s about to put an end to his own suffering…

warnings: mdni. suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, deathwish. loss of a daughter / family members. please do NOT read if this is triggering for you. swear words. reader is female, no description given. no mention of age. no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first attempt at writing tlou fan fiction. please be nice >: one-shot (maybe?). mainly joel’s pov but then changes to reader’s pov. this is by no means lore-accurate. also this is my interpretation of how joel lost his hearing in his right ear and got the scar on his right temple ― he did imply he tried to end his life after sarah’s death so this is how i imagine it happened. finally, this is not proofread and english is not my mother tongue, so please excuse any mistakes you might spot. enjoy! (or not? cry with me pls).

w/c: ~1.3k.

Had life been any different, Joel would probably not be in this position.

He had lost everything he held dear. His very reason for living. He could not wrap his head around the fact that Sarah was gone. Truly gone. He could still feel the mud under his fingernails ― his vain attempt to undo the work Tommy had put into digging Sarah’s grave.

It still felt unreal. His baby girl was six feet under, just a few yards away from him. But in his mind, he was still hugging her closely against his chest, feeling her warmth. Tommy had tried to console him, but there were no words in any human language that could sooth his broken heart, so his brother left to run the perimeter and give him some space.

The last few days were like a whirlpool of pain and tears ― agony filling up his lungs, constricting his throat. Joel could not remember the last time he had cried, but he had done so many times in the last seventy-two hours. He could not contain his own emotion any longer. Such torment was too overwhelming. A father was not supposed to bury his own daughter.

It was thanks to his brother that he had been able to put his Sarah to rest. After hell broke loose in Austin and that damn official had shot at them, Joel could not bring himself to recall what had happened afterwards. From what Tommy had told him, they ran for as long as they could ― Joel still holding onto Sarah’s lifeless body. His brother was able to secure a vehicle and they drove out of the city to avoid any more unwanted encounters.

That was how they got to Sam Houston National Forest. Under normal circumstances, they would have gotten there in under three hours, but it took them almost three days. Sarah loved that nature reserve. They would vacation nearby in the summertime when Joel’s schedule was clear of contracting jobs. Sarah, always full of life, would push her dad down the hiking trail, giggling, teasing him and his old knees.

Paralysed by fear, pain and guilt, Joel had only been able to watch as Tommy put a shovel to the ground and started digging. He only snapped out of his stupor when his brother murmured something as he kneeled before him to take Sarah away from his arms. Joel could not comprehend what Tommy was doing until the younger Miller put Sarah in the hole. That was when he had completely lost it.

It had been hours and Joel had not moved yet. His back against a pine tree, hands on his lap. His eyes fixated on his daughter’s tomb. Tommy had fashioned a cross with wood branches to mark the grave, wildflowers surrounding it despite being September. The contrast between the blooming wildlife and Sarah’s burial pit was gut-wrenching. So much that Joel had to close his eyes to stop them from watering once more.

Tommy had assured him this dreadful feeling would lessen with time ― maybe even go away. Joel had just looked at him blankly in disbelief. He very much doubted it. There was no way he could feel his heart beating again when it had been ripped out of his chest. Emptiness eating him up, nothingness taking over his soul, dread engulfing his senses. There was no coming back from this.

Truthfully, he could not see the point anymore. The world was ending anyway, why postpone the inevitable? Joel was sure that he would only burden Tommy ― in this state of mind, he was not going to be able to protect anyone, let alone his brother. In fact, he would just guide him to his death, the same way he had led Sarah to hers.

Joel opened his eyes and looked down. Tommy had left a gun on the ground to his right while he patrolled the surrounding area, in case he was interrupted and in need of protecting himself. What he was thinking about doing could be considered as “protecting himself” ― from his own thoughts, his own breathtaking pain.

His right hand wrapped around the grip of the gun while his index finger slid towards the trigger. As Joel put the gun to his right temple, his eyes locked on the makeshift wooden cross. He hoped he could be reunited with Sarah in Heaven, God knew he had tried his best in this life and had still failed. It was not enough. He was not enough.

Joel took a deep breath, eyes closed, and pulled the trigger.

Houston was in shambles. You just barely escaped that godforsaken city and made it to the closest nature reserve you could think of. It was the best idea, you thought, as people would be scarce in the midst of nature. So, you walked and walked, until you came across two men who had set up camp off the main trail. You kept to the shadows, not knowing if you should trust them or not.

The youngest one left a few minutes after your arrival, so you adjusted your position in order to not be seen. From there, you could have a better look at the older guy, who seemed rather defeated, sat on the ground, his back resting against a tree. His eyes bare, his face completely blank. You assumed his crushed expression was because of the events of the last few days.

Or, at least, that was what you thought until you spotted the improvised grave in front of him.

Tears welled up, gathering at the rims of your eyelids. You knew that feeling damn too well. Not only the outbreak, but life had also taken some very important people from you. The feeling of loss ― you perfectly understood how hard it could hit.

But you could not reminisce about old times, not now, when your own life was hanging by a thread. You were alone in this world, and you knew how fucking dangerous that would be for a woman. Human nature scared you more than some goddamn virus.

So you were lingering. You saw those two men, and you pondered your options. Something was telling you that you could trust them ― if you could trust anyone while the world was ending.

You came closer, making sure you did not make a noise. That was when you saw the raw emotion painted on his worn-out face. There was something about him that drew you in. His gloomy look spoke of hurt, but also danger.

And then you also saw his hand holding a gun to his temple.

You just acted ― without any concern for your own safety.

“NO!”, a painful shriek left your mouth as you ran towards him, your knees skidding through the dirt as you stopped by his side.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, trying to pull the gun away from him, when the shot went off with a loud bang. It grazed the skin on his temple and blood started to pool on the fresh wound.

“Oh, shit”, you said breathlessly, pressing the palm of your hand against the gash to stop the bleeding.

His brown eyes focused on you, a mixture of shock and disappointment.

After what felt like an eternity losing yourself in those irises, he mumbled:

“Why?”

You tried to talk, but the words would not leave your tongue.

“I…”, you started to explain yourself, but was quickly interrupted.

“What the heck was that?!”

You looked up and spotted the second man, the one you saw walking away a few minutes earlier, running towards you ― rifle on hand, pointing at you.

Blood rushed out of your face. Was that how you were going to die after all?

“Tommy, wait―”

[annievrse]

chapstick & cherry blossoms

dazai x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: mention of suicide (it's dazai what do u expect) a/n: inspired by that one wan! ep where atsushi and dazai's convo literally broke my heart into a million pieces and i was left writhing in pain on the floor :)

“Hey, what flavour is your chapstick?” You ask Dazai, who lays his head in your lap. The breeze is passing through the cherry blossom tree above you, and the rustling of the flowers is a welcome distraction from the stress of a day at the agency.

“Why? So you can tell me it's the one you poisoned?”

“No,” You giggle, covering his eyes with your hand and looking up at the flowers. “I just liked the taste when you kissed me.”

Turning your attention back to him, Dazai's cheeks flush pink, which rarely happens, making your chest hurt. He pulls your palm off his face and brings your knuckles to his lips.

"If you did poison it, I think it would be a perfect way to go," Dazai mumbles into your skin. "Your lips on mine and a hundred cherry blossoms raining down on us."

You almost roll your eyes at his cheesy line, but the ache in your sternum grows after you process his words. "I'd prefer you didn't go at all."

Your soft confession makes Dazai's heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He's speechless for the first time in a while, and he can barely believe you've just expressed such vulnerability. He only wishes he could, too.

Instead of replying, Dazai shakes his head softly, turning his head away to peer at the park before you. His lack of eye contact doesn't irk you; you know he finds it hard to face intimacy, especially when you're not afraid to voice your thoughts.

"You have to stop doing that."

You barely hear him. "Doing what?"

The park falls silent, and it's like the universe is waiting for his answer alongside you.

"Making me feel human," Dazai sits up, his hair falling over his eyes. The silence rings in your ears as you stare at him.

"Osamu, look at me," You reach for his hand that lays limply by his side.

The man, whose personality is sometimes comparable to that of a child, shakes his head and tucks his hands into his coat pockets. The action draws a laugh from you and a smile from him. "Don't wanna."

Your head falls to the side, contemplating him. "Please?"

Dazai rolls his eyes dramatically and turns his head toward you, lips pouting.

You pinch his cheek between your thumb and forefinger, causing his face to warm. "I'm serious, 'Samu. You're so special to me, I really don't know what I'd do without you."

"Pish," Dazai mutters with an upturn of his lips, though you can see unguarded pain and bashfulness in his gaze. Ignoring your previous statement, Dazai lays back down, his head returning to your lap. Closing his eyes, you notice he's still tense.

You push the brown locks off his forehead and lean down to kiss the crease between his eyebrows. With your hand resting on the side of his face, your thumb brushes his cheekbone, admiring the flutter of his eyelashes against his skin.

"I live to make you feel human," You whisper, feeling warm, wet streaks run over the back of your hand.

And then the sounds of the world come rushing back. The cherry blossom tree has stopped swaying, yet the pink petals still delicately fall to meet you on the floor.