#harem of cliche

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

......

I'm having actual legit selfship fic ideas

[domwitch]

Please write that story it sounds amazing

I wrote down the summary but I changed it, instead of a courtesan the man is a sheltered noble sent to marry someone he doesn't love to improve the status of his family. On the way to his wife-to-be's ancestral home, the empress shows up and takes him away to the capital, where he joins her harem. Instead of wanting to kill the empress, he's much more innocent and just wants to survive and live quietly. Since he's her new favorite, he has to deal with the other harem members' jealousy, so the political intrigue is still there.

[king-dra]

the more i learn about new gundam breaker the more im glad i dropped it before i even finished the tutorial

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: Three

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Content > language, heavy tension all over the place, lingering touches, stolen glances, taunting, teasing, flirting, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——Harems are hard work, you know that much from the extensive research you’ve conducted over the years. They were always intriguing to you, the way a man or woman would go around collecting multiple lovers for themself, reasons on why varying from person to person. In your case, you’d like to escape the engagement you’ve found yourself in.

So the first thing you do the next day you wake up, on day two of being an engaged woman, is parade around your home in preparation to leave. Your parents tried to subtly convince you to stay and instead send out letters during breakfast but you brushed off each advance they made on the matter.

You had your heart fully set on this plan. It’s going to work, it has to. Whether or not you stay this encouraged will depend entirely on your first target. He doesn’t know it yet but Gojo will set the mood for the rest of your travels. Should things with him go poorly, you may just turn around and head right back home to accept your fate.

But deep down inside, you know things will go well. Call this cliche but honestly, what’s the worst thing that can happen?

With that mindset, and shortly after breakfast with your parents concluded, you had two people you needed to speak with privately before you left. Carriages were already being prepared for you so you didn’t have much time. 

The first person you set out to talk to privately was your knight. She was made aware of the details of your plan first thing yesterday alongside Utahime since both of them are typically the first people you greet each morning.

Currently, you and Yuki pace down a lengthy corridor with no set destination in mind.

“We should hurry, y’know,” Yuki warns as she walks alongside you, “People will be lookin’ for you to leave soon.”

You wave her warnings off dismissively, “I’ve got an hour at the least. That, and there are a few goodbyes I should like to make before I depart.”

Your knight hums. “To who? You’ve given most of your goodbyes already.”

“Okay well, I have one more goodbye I need to make,” You tell her before turning down another hall. “Right after this, I suppose…”

Yuki raises a brow, still following you closely, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

You ignore her and point to a door not too far off, “There’s a study down this way, yes?”

Her eyes squint to you, “What business would you have with a study at this time? And why do you keep avoiding my—”

Before she can get the rest of her questions out, you’re grabbing a sudden hold of your wrist and dragging her off into that room you’d pointed to. Inside, you shut the door quickly and find yourself alone with Yuki in a vacant, almost abandoned, study.

She looks as confused as ever while she takes in her surroundings, unsure of why you pulled her in here entirely. “You’re acting strange, princess,” Yuki tells you as she folds her arms.

You’d released her wrist and allowed her a moment of space as you stayed by the door for a second, listening closely to something. “Shhh,” You hush.

Yuki throws her hands up defensively for a second.

A couple of seconds pass before you pull away from the door with a smile and turn to her. She’s got this expectant look plastered all over her face, clearly itching for you to tell her what you’re up to. You step nice and close to her and then take her hands into your own.

Yuki’s gaze falls down to the sudden connection and although she’s got a smile on her face, her eyebrows furrow in a quick meet of confusion. “Is everything alright?” She asks you cautiously. 

You nod, “Of course. I just needed a moment alone with you.”

“Were we not alone in the hall moments ago?” She huffs fondly.

“We were but,” You glance off to the side with a shrug, “Anyone could’ve passed by at any given moment.”

She nods at that, her eyes yet to leave your hands holding onto hers so dearly. “Right… So, what did you need this privacy for?”

You lean closer and whisper, “I’ve got something for you.”

“For me? Now?? Why?”

“Why does everyone always have a million and one questions for me,” You sigh, moving to the left pocket of her pants for a moment. You’d asked her to hold something for you earlier in the day and instructed her not to look at it without your permission so, now you pull the item out and hand it to her.

Her eyes follow your every move and then she takes the slip of paper you hand her. “What’s this?”

A smile graces your face, “Open it and find out, silly.”

“You could just tell me, it would save so much time…” She utters to herself as her fingers work the folded-up piece of paper open. Her eyes rake over the paper in one fell swoop before she looks at you, “Why did you hand this to me?”

You’re still beaming, so much so that it nearly makes her nervous. Nearly. “Why do you think?” You ask her almost sarcastically.

“It’s…” Her lashes flutter in clear disbelief whilst she looks over the paper once more, “An invitation to your harem, my lady.”

Even as she says it out loud, Yuki can’t quite believe what she’s holding. Nor can she really wrap her head around why you’ve chosen her first—or at all, for that matter. For a minute or two, she’s unable to do anything more than look back and forth from the paper in her hands to you, constantly finding her gaze drifting downward on each.

“Sooo….” You eventually crack the silence and lean forward without step.

Yuki clears her throat and her brows tense, “You are inviting me.”

You hum, “Mhm!”

Finally, she lets her sights lift fully and settle firmly onto you. “Why?” Yuki asks.

You’re unsure of what it is exactly about her sudden unwavering gaze but it makes your feet shift against the floor slightly, a motion of which doesn’t go unnoticed by your hyper-aware knight. Every faint movement of yours never seems to miss her eye but now it feels… different? It’s almost as though a new light had been cast on you instead of the natural lighting that currently dawns on the study you occupy.

Yuki’s eyes widen with how long it takes you to reply to her and her left foot unconsciously moves as a step closer to you is taken. It was weird but, the mere request of her to join your harem… first, has the knight seeing you differently in a way that is more familiar than ever. Per her own thoughts, it is like gazing upon you for the first time.

The windows to this study are rather large and the light bounces off of the beautiful furniture surrounding the two of you so, maybe it’s a shift of the outside sun that causes you to glow just a bit brighter in her eyes than before. It truly was like seeing you for the first time all over again. Hell, her lips twitch in thought and suddenly she’s recalling the way her breath escaped her and never returned on the day she’d first seen you.

Now, as you stand before her all these years later, proclaiming to desire her, that feeling returns. 

Looking away entirely, “...Does it matter why?” Your voice soon hits her ears again and she barely recovers her recently escaped breath.

Yuki’s right foot takes that last step and she answers you faster than she can even process your words, “Yes.”

“Because I want you,” You practically breathe out once you become overly aware of how close she’d gotten, slowly turning your head to look her in the eye, and swallowing thickly. “I-In my harem, I mean.”

Her features soften and she smiles, the sight enough to make you beyond anxious. “Hah,” Your knight breathes.

Taking another gulp to compose yourself, “Sooo, what do you say?”

Yuki shrugs, “I’m your knight. Joining this would mean that you and I are-, or, would be intimate.”

You stare instead of replying.

To which a breathy laugh of disbelief leaves her lips. Then, as her next question is asked, you notice her tone has changed, “You wish to be intimate with me?”

“I wish for you to join my harem,” You divert with a nervous smile.

Yuki tilts her head and it’s right then that you realize she knows you’re feeling some sort of anxiousness right now, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

You sigh heavily and nearly stumble over your words again, “I-Intimacy comes with joining the harem so—”

“If I may be so bold,” She interrupts, taking a step forward that only causes your back to meet a wall. “Princess, please do not avoid my questions and give me a straight answer.”

“I believe my answer would be anything but ‘straight’.” You tease. Perhaps dragging her into this room alone like this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you should’ve just told her to shuffle through her pocket on her own time…

“You jest,” Yuki whispers, now leaning forward, “But I need to know if you are serious.”

There’s a slight shake of your head, “Why wouldn’t I be…?”

She ignores your constant avoidance, “I won’t join unless you answer.”

“I…” You trail off entirely and your mind decides then that it’s a good time to blank on you. Thus, you are left at a loss for words and have no answer to her question whatsoever. It is quite hard to find anything to say to a woman of Yuki’s beauty who stands so closely to you and stares at you as if you were bliss personified. “What uh, what was the question again?” You eventually squeak out.

Gently, Yuki allows every word of hers to leave her lips in a way that has you looking down to watch their departure from her tongue, “Do you wish to be intimate with me?”

You’ve had your fair secret glances at her mouth before but now that you find yourself so close, it is difficult to organize your thoughts properly, “Well—”

“Yes,” She cuts off, tipping her head to the opposing side to gain your eyes on hers again, “Or no, princess.”

You first clear your throat and then nod, “Yes.”

At that, Yuki lets herself look downwards on your face and she sighs, “Then I will join.”

“O-Okay..” You stutter, noticing where her eyes have fallen.

She doesn’t say anything and neither do you. Instead, the two of you just stand still for a while and take in one another’s faces. In that time, you both creep closer to one another and you only snap out of your daze of appreciation when Yuki’s hand meets your waist and your entire body decides to react.

A gasp leaves your throat, your torso moves into her touch, and your eyes flutter in surprise at the small touch.

And to top it all off, Yuki finds herself inches away from your lips whispering, “You are nervous, why?”

You force a smile and try your best to remain composed, “We are quite close, Lady Tsukumo.”

“We could…” She tips nearer, “Be so much closer.”

If your breath hadn’t been lost before then it damn sure is now because good lord is the proximity alone enough to make you long for that fated connection of her lips to your own. She’s hardly laid a finger on you and yet you find yourself a wreck within your mind. Words fail you entirely and all you’re capable of doing in that moment is stare at her.

“Princess,” Yuki breathes out, her soft tone hitting the skin of your lips given how close she is. Then, her other hand lifts to your chin and she urges your head further up, nearly causing your skin to brush over hers. “Can I…”

You’re not clueless, you know what she wants to ask for. And yet, she just lets her words fade off, never deciding to finish that request of hers, which only leaves you hanging off of her every inhale and exhale. 

Luckily for you, you’re both interrupted right then by a knock on the study’s door. Both of you flinch and she blinks out of whatever stupor just came over her, soon turning her head to look at the door and then clearing her throat. “Yeah-, yes?” She coughs out.

“Is Her Highness in there with you?” The voice of a palace guard questions from the other side of the door. He must’ve seen you two duck off into this room earlier.

Yuki scoffs and looks to you once more, “Yeah,” She replies as she slips her thumb upward and past your chin, letting her fingertip rub along the outline of your bottom lip. “She’s riiight here.” 

Your brows furrow and you whisper as you realize what your knight just pulled, “...You teased me.”

She smirks and weighs the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly, and then leaning in to match your tone one last time, “You’ve been teasing me for as long as I can remember.”

“I–”

“Most of the carriages are ready to go, my lady.” That same voice from before interrupts again, “I believe they are packing your last one up but, you should make haste in getting to them soon.”

You puff out a long sigh and pry yourself away from Yuki’s grasp, “I will be out there in a bit. Tell them I have someone I need to speak to before I leave.”

You can’t see it but the guard bows from beyond the door, “Yes ma’am.”

The sound of departing footsteps can be heard and once the sound discontinues, Yuki starts laughing to herself, prompting you to glance over to her. She hasn’t moved an inch from where she almost kissed you but you notice she’s got a hand over her mouth.

You frown, “What’s so funny?”

“Shoulda’ seen the look on your face,” The woman snorts, “Hah. I didn’t know you could make such an expression.”

“What are you talking about??” You question further.

She motions to her face, “You were so flustered.”

With a roll of your eyes, you let off a scoff, “I was not.”

“Oh please, it’s no use to lie.” Yuki argues as she turns to meet your gaze, “Admit it, cutie, you were nervous.”

Your lashes begin to bat in pure and utter disbelief, “I don’t get ‘nervous’.”

At first, she merely hums in response. But when she starts walking toward you again, you end up looking away from her. Yuki now stands directly behind you and leans over your shoulder to tease, “Right, okay. So,” Her hands find your waist and her voice hits the crown of your ear, “This, is fine, yes?”

You try laughing it off as if her touch is no big deal, “Perfectly.”

Then her hands slide up and tread dangerously close to your chest. All while she’s grinning from ear to ear, “And this?”

You’re pretty sure you were unable to hide the hitch in your breathing but hopefully, it goes unnoticed (it doesn’t). “Yuki.” You say rather firmly.

Her lips, as soft as ever, grave the tip of your ear, “Yes… princess?” And suddenly your title no longer sounds like a name of respect and hierarchy, but a nickname instead.

Finally standing your ground again, you just barely manage to lift your head up to its normal hold, regain your posture, and come to your senses. “I invite you into my harem and suddenly you find yourself unable to keep your hands off me?”

Her hands freeze against your sides and then her head dips down. You’d turn to get a nice look at her and the face she’s making right now but the sensation of her mouth grazing your neck drives you right back into that mild frenzy again. Carefully, Yuki inches forward with her head and you release a shaky breath the moment her lips make raw contact with your neck.

Then, she whispers right against you, “I’ve been holding back for a few years now…”

Your jaw falls open and you choke, finding yourself clueless beyond belief, “What?”

Yuki snaps out of whatever came over her there and tugs herself back a bit. Her eyes proceed to squeeze shut and instead of answering you right away, she just inhales deeply—unintentionally getting a strong whiff of your perfume. Behind her shut lids, and hidden from you, her eyes so graciously roll back. Then her grip on your waist tightens, her lips part again, a faint noise nearly escapes her throat, and—

She snatches her head away from your neck entirely and her hands follow suit with your sides. Yuki stumbles back a few inches from you and clears her throat, “W-What?” She stammers.

You start turning to look at her but your motion comes to an abrupt end when she walks past you, “Yuki, what did you say—”

“I’m gonna go ahead and sign this now before I do anything uh…” She tugs that invitation of yours out of her pocket again and waves it in the air, “Yeah.” Her statement ends there, leaving you wondering what exactly just transpired.

You blink. “Are you okay?”

She’s made her way over to a desk and is busy scrambling for a pen to finally sign her name. For a while, she pays no mind to your concern and eventually locates a pen, quickly printing her name where it’s required. Once done, she acquits a tremulous sigh and spins to hold out the signed invitation—confirming her entry into your harem as the first member.

Barely any more words are exchanged between you and her after that. You end up taking the signed invitation with a smile and quiet thank you, to which she soon bows to you. Then, not even a second later, Yuki hurries toward the door to leave this secluded area.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Neither of you addressed what went down in that study after you both left. The walk toward the last person you wish to say bye to is conducted in silence. It’s not exactly awkward or anything, just tense. You can’t define what kind of tension lies between you and your knight but hey, at least she joined your harem…

It feels nice to walk next to her knowing that she’s a part of something you’ll come to hold very dear to your heart. When you really think about it, you could touch her in any way at any given moment and no one would bat an eye. Your eyes can linger on her as you please and not a soul would find it scandalous. After all, your eyes travel over to her as you think, simply gazing at her for a while brings you deep satisfaction.

You’re quite proud to have someone as gorgeous as her as your knight. It’s like a silent compliment to you. People do say that the company you keep is a direct reflection of your character.

With that, a smile spreads across your face and your pace down the hall picks up a bit. If things with Yuki went well, surely things with everyone else will too.

Before you know it, you and your knight find yourself approaching your final destination for the time being. The last stop before you head outside to leave your kingdom entirely, to the final person you wish to say goodbye to, and—

“The infirmary, my lady?” Yuki asks cautiously as she comes to a stop just beside you and stares at the door in front of you both.

You wave a hand out, “Stay here while I head in, this’ll only take a second.”

“But—”

And as usual, before Yuki can spit out any sort of protest, you’re disappearing behind those doors and leaving her alone in the hall. She remains still for a moment before shrugging the entire thing off and turning to properly guard the doors as she typically does.

Meanwhile, as soon as you enter the room, the person you’d been looking to say bye to comes immediately into view. Long brown hair falling down past her shoulders, soft brown eyes flickering up to meet you as soon as you walk in—with those tired bags decorating the area just beneath them, there sits Shoko Ieiri in all her glory.

She blinks more than a few times to take in the fact that it’s really you standing there. Then her hands are moving and she shuffling papers across her desk for a moment as a pen falls from between her fingers, “Oh shit-,” She breathes out, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth seconds later, “I-I wasn’t expecting you to be here today, your highness. God, I–”

“It’s okay,” You murmur gently with a smile that makes her hands slow to an easy halt from their scrambling to straighten up. “Been a while, huh?”

Shoko’s all wide-eyed for a minute, watching as you look elsewhere and take in her workspace. You walk over to some cabinets and scan your eyes over just about everything as curious as ever. Eventually, she nods, “Yeah, yeah it has… Still as nosy as ever, I see.” She teases lightheartedly.

You turn to her and notice she’s stood up. “What can I say, it’s been so long since I’ve been in here.”

“Mhm,” She hums, carefully rounding her desk to approach you. “So what uh, brings you in here now? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard but…” Your voice fades as you ponder on how you should go about explaining things to her.

“You leave today, right? For some harem thing..?”

Well, that saves you an explanation, “Yeah.”

“Well, everyone knows about that. I’m still confused as to why you stopped here though. You should be leaving, I saw the carriages and everything—”

“Do you wanna come with me?” You blurt out.

She blinks, “Pardon?”

“I’ll be gone for a month or so and… Well, I’m traveling to other nations that I haven’t been to in years and I-, well, y’know anything could happen during the journey so I was just wondering if you wanted to accompany me because you’re the only person I trust to tend to my wounds properly, in the event that I got any—”

Shoko cuts you off with a gentle whisper of your name. Not your title as princess, not any sort of honorific, just… your name. By the time you look at her again, she’s leaned against the wall nearest to you with her arms crossed and her head angled to the right. 

It’s then that you recall why exactly you came to see her. Not only to try convincing her to travel with you but, also to see a childhood friend again. Rarely anyone has the pleasure of addressing you by your name but Shoko? Your name sounds more than perfect falling from her tongue. 

“While I enjoy your nervous rambles,” She starts off, lips curving into that typical tired grin of hers, “You could’ve just said you wanted to travel with me, sweets. And while I’d love to do exactly that… It’s a bit last minute of you to come and ask me, doncha’ think?”

You chuckle. “The trip itself was rather last minute so, apologies if I’m putting you in a difficult position here.”

“Mh. Well,” She pushes herself off of the wall and shrugs, “I’m not sure if I’d be able to pack in time.”

Your brows meet in confusion, “Whatever you’d have to pack that’s not in this room, I assure you I can purchase it for you on this trip, Shoko. I just want you to come with me.”

Shoko lets out a huff and glances elsewhere, “Don’t you already have a doctor accompanying you?”

You tilt your head at the woman, picking up on her clear silent refusal to join you. Resulting in a knowing grin sparking across your face, “If you don’t want to come, you can just tell me, y’know.”

“That’s the thing. I’m not sure how I feel following you along while you collect men for your personal pleasure,” Shoko says as she clasps her hands together behind her back and paces toward you slightly.

“Oh.” You chirp.

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” She scoffs and her feet come to a stop just a mere step away from you, her eyes dragging across the room before landing on you again, “I know it’s ‘been a while’ but surely you haven’t forgotten the feelings I possess for you?” Your friend asks you, her tone softened.

You swallow at the recollection, “I haven’t. But, this isn’t just for pleasure Shoko, I’m trying to—”

“I’ve heard.” She interrupts, “You wanna escape your marriage. But with all due respect, princess, I think I’ll stay here while you do that.”

A deep feeling of disappointment rushes through you and you quickly find your gaze becoming rather downcast. You had high hopes of her telling you she’d join you and now…

“I know you’re not used to people declining your offers or telling you no but, y’know me.” Shoko hums—doing that thing you know her to do where she’ll try to lighten your mood with a gentle reiteration of the truth. “I will stay here and patiently await your return, as I always do. Should you come back with any wounds, even one of the heart, I’ll be right here to patch ya’ up…”

A pout tugs at your lips before you know it and in come those pleading irises of yours, “Sho’.”

“Awh, don’t ‘Sho’ meee, you’ll make me feel bad.” She mocks, taking a hand and placing it on your cheek as she wipes a soft thumb under your left eye.

You lean into her touch and place your hand over hers, “I really do want you to come with me.”

Shoko smiles, “I know. But someone’s gotta teach you a thing or two about not always getting what you want, right?”

“I guess…”

For a moment, she just comforts you with that easing caress under your eye but once she sees that it’s doing little to nothing for you, she rolls her eyes and strips her hand away. 

“C’mere,” Shoko mutters before moving to pull you into a warm hug. Her arms hold onto you tightly and you rest your head on her shoulder, “You’ll be fine without me. It’s just a month, yeah? You’ve gone for longer.”

You sigh, “...Not like this.”

“Hey,” Her hands move again and meet your cheeks, cupping your face in her gloved palms. You practically melt into her but her firm tone keeps you grounded for the most part, “Tell Gojo I said hey when you see him?”

You scoff, smiling a little, “You could come and say hey to him yourself.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Shoko please?” If not for the plead leaving your lips, it was definitely escaping the look on your face, “You know I’m not one to beg.”

“We’ve past encounters that say otherwise, pretty girl.” Shoko teases, “I’m serious about this though, I’m not sure how long I could stomach a trip like that. So,” Her hands drop to yours before she raises your fingers to her lips and plants a kiss across your knuckles, “Just promise me you’ll return in one piece?”

You sigh, “I promise.”

To which she smiles, fully. “Atta’ girl. Now go on before your knight comes in yellin’ at me like old times.”

It’s then that you decide to accept defeat. As much as you longed for her to accompany you, it seems there’s no convincing her. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you first thing when I come back.” You tell her while the two of you part ways.

Shoko sends you a wink, “You better, doctor’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.” You end up waving her off, disappearing behind the same doors you came in from, and leaving her to herself.

The second you’re gone, Shoko tosses her head back and stares up at her ceiling. Raking her hands through her hair, she groans at the way she handled that situation for reasons unknown to you. Then she wipes over her face, stopping at her eyes in an attempt to rub the weariness away. 

When that proves to be unsuccessful, she turns back to her desk and kicks over a small trashcan nearby. Muttering only for her ears to hear, “Fuck…”

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

After all that, you finally finally make your way outside. You and Yuki ended up jogging a bit to get there since people all throughout the palace had started to call for you. By the time you got outside, you were met with your parents, General Yaga, and some of your maids who sought to see you off.

The goodbyes were rather quick, a few hugs, and ‘be safe’ ‘s given to you before you approached your carriage. There, you found your feet coming to a stop and your eyes drinking in the eye candy you were about to have for the entirety of this trip. Your carriage driver merely tips his hat to you and smirks ever so slightly, “Shiu Kong, at your service, princess.”

Your lashes flutter but before you have enough time to gawk at him, there’s a slight nudge forward given to you from behind.

“We need to get going, now,” Higuruma grumbles to you.

You scoff and nudge him back before taking Shiu’s offered hand and stepping into your carriage. 

There were quite a few carriages but for this trip, it seemed as though you would be sharing one with your royal advisor. Outside would be that fine gentleman of a driver, Shiu, and beside him rode your knight. In another was your things, along with Utahime who wouldn’t dare stay home as you traveled elsewhere—who would help you into your dresses?

And with that, a few more exaggerated goodbye waves, and a tear or two from your dramatic mother (the Queen, mind you), you were headed off to your first destination: The Northern Nation. Home to your first (technically second) target; Prince Gojo Satoru.

m!list | last chapter | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar  @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

[fic-dumpster]

How would bonten be like meeting your family? Would they get along or not or even expose some stuff by accident?

Tbh, I think something could happen and it doesn’t go as planned. Let’s pretend for this scenario that Doe has a family… 😂 . Anyway, Anonie… sorry it’s years late but here we are trying. I just rewrote this so I’ll edit it later!

Bonten x reader

WC: 1320

TW: Fluff, revers harem, sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, fb!Mochi, gun, sappy/cliche ending, kinda uh… weird. It’s a mess.

You’ve been preparing this week’s dinner for almost two months. Arranging everyone’s schedules and thinking of ways to explain to your family how you have… more than one partner.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell your family about them. It’s just that the subject was never brought up before and your parents weren’t so concerned about prior relationships, but what you had right now was beginning to turn into something more serious.

So, yeah. Here you are waiting for your parents and the guys to arrive. Which turned into you having to distract your parents because nobody was home besides you and they were not picking up their phones.

You left messages to each one of them with phrases like…

“Sanzu Haruchiyo! I swear to whatever is holy to you that I will have you maimed and hanged when you get home!”

or

“Mikey!!! I will put all the sweets on the highest shelves and throw all the stools away! See how you’ll manage! And no boobs!”

or

“Kakucho? Baby? Please pick up… I’m worried.”

Well, you were fuming and trying your best to pretend everything was in order. Until you heard the door open and steps closing in. Finally someone!

But all your relief flew out of the window when you saw none other than Mochizuki Kanji walking towards you with a big smile on his face.

Oh, hell no… they were so dead. Each and every one of them was so dead.

“Honey!” You visibly tensed as you heard Mochi’s boisterous voice greet you like that.

“Mo-Mochi! Ho-honey!” And so playing along it was.

You were actually grateful at the end of the night. Mochi was such a great guy. You would have cried if you didn’t have to act too. He treated your family so nicely and your parents loved him.

Mochi had your dad enchanted with his baseball and stock market talk. Then your mom was so in love with him too. No complaints at the end. On the contrary, they were so proud of you for finally finding such a wonderful person.

As happy as you were for a successful dinner. You were internationally seething.

Once your parents left and the house was cleaned. You arched your eyebrow and directed an inquisitive look at Mochi.

“So?” You asked after a while.

“Something happened… I know, I know.” Mochi dragged his hands over his face and sighed. “You have every right to be mad, but let me ex—“

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking alerted you of their arrival, and multiple footsteps followed to confirm the quantity.

In a flash you had Mochi’s gun in hand, the poor man panicking after you and not even the devil himself could stop you now.

“Are any of you injured to the point of being at death’s door? Are you all alive and kicking?” You asked in a solemn voice. “Well?”

“We–we’re good…” said Kokonoi who was the closest to you watched a very worried Mochi stand behind you and shake his head in silence. Was he warning them not to do what?

“Good,” and with that, you pulled the gun that was too big for your hand.

A bunch of screams and alarmed voices came in from the seven men standing at your entrance.

“Baby— wait! Baby!”

“We– it’s not– Y/N!”

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

“Y/N, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

So you took the safety off which earned you more screams and Sanzu hid behind Kokonoi, Rindou took cover in Ran’s back and Mikey was lost in the tumult of panicking men.

“Mochi why did you give her your gun!?!” Takeomi asked as he harshly pushed against the door by Sanzu trying to get as far away as possible from the barrel of your gun.

“I didn’t! She took it!”

“This is your fault!” Ran blamed it all on Sanzu. “You taught her how to use one! We were against it!”

“Shut up! All of you!” They all went quite deadly fast. “I had dinner with my boyfriend!” As you spoke, you moved the gun at each one of them and they all jumped back scared it would go off. Even Mikey was eyeing your shaking hand like a hawk. “So I don’t know who you all are! Go away!”

Again, you pointed the gun, they jumped and they also crushed Takeomi against the door for the tenth time. While the other screamed, Takeomi was grunting in pain at this point.

“Can we explain?” Kakucho asked with his hands up to show he surrendered.

“And you are?” You saw hurt flash in Kakucho’s eyes once your words were out, but you needed to stand your ground. They had done it this time. “Sure, explain unknown man.”

“But please can you put the gun down?” Kokonoi was sweating buckets from the way you waved the gun everywhere.

“I’m not gonna—“ and just like that it went off against the wall where the Haitani brothers stood. You heard Rindou screaming and Ran cursing every color of the rainbow.

You crossed eyes with each one of them and threw them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, maybe I should put it down…” putting the safety back on, you handed it back to Mochi with a second apology in tow.

With your attention back to the group in your entrance you saw Rindou having a… moment…

“Oh my God! I almost died! Raaan! I saw my life flash through my eyes!” Rindou was crouched down hugging his brother’s leg. Said brother had a tired face on… like this was a common occurrence.

“Sanzu, this is your fault too,” Kokonoi added to the

“How is it my fault?!” Sanzu exclaimed with indignation and fury.

This calmed down after a bit. Reluctantly, you let them in and sat down to explain. You heard their excuses, the emergency at work and called bullshit until Mikey spoke last.

“We were scared.” He began with his signature seriousness and almost sad eyes. “Look at us. We aren’t the guys you take home to meet your mother.” As he kept talking, you saw how one by one they all turned their eyes away, sour looks and empty faces. One after another. “Mochi at least has the looks to pass as a normal civilian.”

You nodded, understanding where they were coming from. Pink, purple and white hair… tattoos all over their bodies… and scars… your heart broke for them. But your fury wasn’t gone just yet.

“And you think I care? You think I care what they think?” You stood up and walked over to Mikey, holding his shoulders tightly as you spoke. “If anyone, even my own family, speaks ill of any of you, I would have thrown them out. And never looked back. Understood? I… I have my own life here… a family… that we built together.”

Even if you wanted to add more to your speech, you weren’t able to. An avalanche of bodies suddenly rained down on you and the next thing Mikey saw was a cluster of bodies on his feet.

You could barely breathe under Rindou’s arm and probably Sanzu’s leg. Kakucho and Kokonoi tried to wrench them away but it was fruitless. Both were moaning and crying about the family they built with you. Ran facepalmed at his younger brother’s behavior but smiled nonetheless.

“Wait, where’s Takeomi?” You asked having not heard the man in a while.

“Here!” Everyone saw the eldest Bonten member at the kitchen counter with a first aid kit. “I’m just patching myself up.”

“But you said you weren’t injured?” You said from the floor and in between two sobbing men.

“I wasn’t…” Takeomi winced as he applied a bit more ointment. “yeah, having six people push you against a door was awful. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Meanwhile, Mochi cried in a corner as he saw his family happy together.

[slackerlifewhere]

TCF is all about healing

- This is a review about the novel.

There's possible SPOILERS for readers who haven't finished reading the first volume.

___

When I first picked up the novel, I didn't have high expectations. After reading a lot of stories that end up disappointing me because of how the author eventually adds romance or harems into the story because their main character apparently needs a romantic relationship to feel good about themselves, I thought that Trash of the Count's Family will be the same thing further down the line.

But damn, did the author prove me wrong.

In the first few chapters, the novel's entire vibe was almost unnoticeable. Sure, there were some small details like him not being used to extravagant clothes or finding a simple meal delicious, but it wasn't obvious. It made me raise my eyebrow but I simply thought that he's a simple salaryman or something.

The first lines about him not having anyone who would miss him if he's gone in his previous world can be excused as him having no lingering attachments. And honestly, some transmigration/isekai stories do have their main characters having no attachments in their previous world. So it makes sense and it didn't alert me of what could've possibly happened to Cale, former Kim Rok Soo, for him to be so aloof and calm at the forced transmigration.

And then...he thought about poverty and pity when interacting with On and Hong. That was the first sign that he may have left a few lines out of his introduction.

It steadily got worse when he was talking to Choi Han about him being used to the cruelty of people like Venion. And then, at the first meeting with Raon, he appeared as if he understood the hopelessness of a child under an abusive adult's hand.

That's when I finally thought that TCF is a story about healing. And I was pleasantly surprised.

Sure, there's action, drama, and comedy, but TCF is mainly about moving on or healing from past hurts. There are moments when it can be called "cliche" but TCF is unique in the way it portrays Cale and his relationships. There's the found family trope that I love but what I love the most about the story is how these characters who have lost something or were about to lose something if OG Cale didn't make the deal with God of Death to have KRS replace him, is slowly understanding that they're not alone and that they can improve as a person if given the chance.

It's heart-warming and completely unexpected. I didn't read the first chapter expecting this fantasy-themed action novel to be about this.

OG Cale, Choi Han, Raon, On and Hong, Lock, Taylor and Cage, Alberu, the Dark Elves, Mary, and so many characters paved the way for me to completely fall in love with this novel.

If I sound like I'm exaggerating, then I don't care because this novel is just beautiful.

What completely blew my mind is the final reveal of Cale's past as Kim Rok Soo.

Listen, I have a love-hate relationship with KR survival novels involving monsters and dungeons and the freaking apocalypse. I love some of them and I can't stand the others. But I did not expect that Kim Rok Soo was in a world trying to survive from the effects of the apocalypse.

My first reaction was "What the actual fuck" because I 100% did not expect for the story to go that way. And my second thought was "So that's why!" Because it finally explains why he hates "papercuts"! This guy is so good at making big things about himself sound so small that it left me stunned when the big reveal happened!

I wanna slap him and hug him at the same time.

It explains why he's so good at being a commander. It explains why he's used to getting hurt or why he hates the thought of his friends and family dying with him as the survivor (I believe he has a survivor's guilt?). It explains everything.

He may be in a new world but he's still stuck in his past no matter how much he says about not thinking about what-ifs and his past. The time he spends in this new world is him slowly realizing that he's not alone and he doesn't have to be so scared.

And when I finally thought that I'm done being surprised, OG Cale appears and flips everything I knew about the character. They talk about how content they are with their new identities. They smile. They're happy. And that proves why this novel is about healing and not the simple transmigration novel full of action and comedy. Instead of getting angry at Kim Rok Soo, former Cale Henituse, for the deal with God of Death, he's just happy for the man and for himself. I just love how the author doesn't forget about Kim Rok Soo's sacrifices and rewards him with a happy life with his mother.

It's so hard not to finish the novel within weeks because of how good it is. It can be fast in some parts for the action, which makes sense since everything is happening at once. But there are also slow emotional moments that keep reminding me why I love this novel.

So yeah, this is my review about TCF. It's not a perfect novel but it's a good novel about healing and family. And I'm waiting for the second volume to be done so I can finally read the rest.

[khattikeri]

always fucks me up how every major male SVSSS character barring liu qingge (dead for all of PIDW) and shen yuan (literal transmigrator) have some variation of airplane bro's personality, insecurity, and shitty coping mechanisms. like.

shen jiu!qingqiu lashing out, letting people assume terrible shit about him because it's easier than trying to clarify his intentions only for his actions and words to be misinterpreted anyway?

yue qingyuan being politely vacant, aimless and self-deprecative, believing himself a failure who deserves to be hated?

og!shang qinghua being a cannon fodder "cowardly traitor", cut off from protection and money and killed by his former liege?

mobei-jun having deeper set issues with trust and loyalty, especially from family members and personal servants?

tianlang-jun's naivete and emotional attachment leading indirectly to his being sealed under a mountain miserable and alone for years?

zhuzhi-lang's excessive degree of loyalty to people who show him sincere kindness, since most people find him ugly and unapproachable?

PIDW!luo binghe's emotional apathy and detachment after all he suffered; him being rewritten into an overpowered, intelligent, revenge-driven, manipulative man so good in bed he can force anyone to join his harem?

SVSSS!luo binghe being similar to the above, but otherwise being clingy, deeply insecure, clumsy and inefficient in bed and in love?

SVSSS!luo binghe being desperate to maintain emotional connections and terrified of the perception that he's being abandoned by someone he loves and looks up to?

SVSSS!luo binghe being willing to go to concerning extremes to find out WHY that person changed their mind and chose to hurt him, abandon him, and what he can do to fix things?

SVSSS!luo binghe's most bitter anguish being the thought that they despise him and are throwing him away for unchangeable aspects of who he is, for being himself?

PIDW was originally a romanceless web novel driven by its unique fantasy setting and lore. it was stripped down of those elements to make way for cliche heterosexual porn tropes until it became an inconsistent male power fantasy harem novel that fickle readers-- whose money pay airplane's bills now that his parents both remarried and started new families, cutting off basically all money and contact with him-- would keep reading.

everything about PIDW (and SVSSS) reflects part of airplane. not only the characters' personalities and experiences, but the original story as a whole, considering how much of it (of himself) airplane ended up sacrificing and shuttering away to present a different image that would be more easily accepted.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

the difference between touya and mammon in my selfships is that if I ask touya to do my hair he's flat out saying no because if he can't figure out how to do it right away or fucks it up he's killing himself that's too much responsibility (even if it's dyeing my hair which is clearly something he knows how to do) MEANWHILE if I ask Mammon he'd be like 'psh of course I can do that!!!' and then stay up all night panic watching hair tutorials so he doesn't fuck it up and STILL takes like 7 hours to do even the simplest tasks

These are the nuances between a capricorn man and a virgo one with the same extreme attachment/abandonment issues

[hannie-dul-set]

줄다리기 / JULDARIGI — one.

SYNOPSIS. the moment you step foot into the neighborhood you’d sought to forget, you find yourself caught in a seven sided tug-of-war with the longings of the past, and the restraints of the present.

FEATURING. seventeen’s yoon jeonghan, nct’s na jaemin, txt’s choi soobin and choi beomgyu, enhypen’s park sunghoon, zb1’s shen quanrui, bnd’s han dongmin. GENRES. drama, suggestive, psychological, yandere reverse harem (yeehaw!!!), college! au, richkid! au. CHAPTER WARNINGS. swearing, arson, child abandonment, obsessive and possessive behavior, ominous vibes overall, but things are still pretty mellow at this point BWAHAHAH.

WORD COUNT. 13.6k TAGLIST. open.

NOTE. my insanity begins. this reads like a very bad soap opera-ish kdrama with all the cliches you can think of, including terrible male leads HAHHAHAHAHAHA. nothing major happens in the chapter, but a lot of teensy tiny hints are being dropped. would love to hear everyone's dissections of my collection of messed up characters. enjoy!!!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

THERE IS AN AQUARIUM IN THE KIM HOUSEHOLD.

A large, rectangular box in the space where the hallway and living room meet, filled with rocks, driftwood, plants and a multitude of colorful fish, large and small, all drenched in a glaze of cerulean blue. One of the angelfish swims right in front of you, following the direction of your eyes as you scan it from left to right, almost knowing that you’re looking at it by how it slows down the moment it enters your field of vision— watching you in return with its blank stare.

Seeing this reminds you that your home used to have three. One in the foyer. One in the dining room. One on the second floor landing where you used to play house with your friends. You also remember that you had a koi pond in the garden, of which you’d visit every morning and had once nearly fallen into after leaning over the bridge railing too far after trying (and failing) to count the number of fishes swimming and swirling around.

But that was ten years ago. Maybe nine. Now, the only fish you count is the supply of dried pollock you keep in the store for the bugeoguk on the menu.

“Hey, it’s time to bring the deserts in. Quit spacing out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grunt, spinning your heels back into the direction of the kitchen. You pull the towel loosely hanging from your right shoulder, following the footsteps of your co-worker into the hallway. It’s funny how things can just suddenly go wrong— how you can have three aquariums and a koi pond and have it all disintegrate into thin air right before your very eyes.

You walk into the large kitchen, a cart full of sweets and cakes and pastries waiting for you to push out into the backyard dining area of the house. The warm lights lining the wraparound porch are reminding you of what you used to have. The sounds of champagne glasses and cutlery clicking and clattering feel like distant but familiar reveries that leave a bitter taste on your throat.

“Oh, I’ve been dying for something sweet.”

Wordlessly, you set the dishes from your cart onto the table, careful to not brush against the handful of people dining on the table. You’re careful. You’re so, so careful yet you can still feel the stares drilling into your skull while you keep your head down, the hushed yet audible whispers that assault your ears the moment you finish serving one person before moving onto the next. It’s more annoying than anything, really. But you can’t let that expression show through your face.

You make the mistake of locking eyes with one of the members of the dinner, however. It’s brief— no longer than three seconds. Yet three seconds was enough for him to recognize you, and for you to detect his recognition. 

There’s nothing but shock and surprise in those eyes of his.

All the deserts have been served. You retreat back into the kitchen with the now empty cart and thank the heavens that you don’t have to come back out there tonight.

“Whew. Rich people chatter way too much.” 

You laugh, looking over at Soonyoung who lets out a tired sigh the moment the kitchen doors close. “Work’s not over. Time to clean up.”

Soonyoung and you met just earlier, yet you’re already trying to trip each other over while carrying stacks of dishes to the washing station. He’s a pretty easy going guy. You two would be good friends, but your shift is nearly done. You don’t have anyone to serve here in the kitchen so you two can mess around as much as you want. “Good work today,” says your catering manager after handing you your salary. “I was unsure when I saw you walk into the kitchen today, but you seem pretty experienced with this line of work.”

You smile, blindly counting the number of bills in your hands. “I’ve been waitressing for a long time.” A hundred-fifty thousand. Right on the dot.

He mirrors your expression. “How about working with us permanently?”

“Ah, sorry. I don’t think my schedule can manage. Call me if ever you need another pair of hands to cover for you, though.”

That was the end of today’s job. One of your friends, Seungkwan, called you earlier saying that he had a part-time opportunity for you— working as a server for a catered private family dinner in Pyeongchang-dong, Westwind Crossings. It’s bound to pay well, and you weren’t wrong after earning much more than your daily wage at the diner.

You pack up your things, leaving your apron behind before sneaking off to one of the servant hallways that the head maid showed you earlier. The Kim’s don’t want to see their workers in the same space as they regularly cross, apparently. You grunt and pick up your pace, only to get caught in the mess of corners and turns. Wait, did you have to go left this time or right? Gosh, big houses are so confusing. This is just making you appreciate your cramped home in downtown Seoul even more.

Biting the bullet, you turn left, and what emerges from the other end of the hall isn’t the exit at the side of their house, but what appears to be a lounge area. It had been roughly thirty minutes since the dinner ended. A knot begins to form in your temples the moment three pairs of eyes land on yours.

Shit. This is gonna get annoying. You quickly snap your head back and start to book it, but your feet stutter at the first step.

Your name is called out. God damn it, you really didn’t want to deal with this.

“I knew it!” one of them exclaims. Kim Haera. The eldest daughter of the household and, well, an acquaintance of yours. Former acquaintance really, since the last time you’ve seen here was eight fucking years ago. “Holy shit, the rumors are true! I didn’t want to believe it, but here you are!”

You bite your tongue. You ignore her and start walking again, but you hear a pair of footsteps quickly catching up to your direction and you’re pulled back by the arm, eyes widening, now face-to-face with Kim Haera’s bright and curious eyes. There’s a smile on her face. A big one, like she can’t contain it. “Hey, don’t just run off. We haven’t seen each other in years. C’mon, let’s talk and catch up. I’m dying to know what happened to you.”

From what you can remember, Kim Haera has always been a bit of a bitch. Looks like the years failed to fix her nasty personality.

Haera tugs you out of the tunnel, inside the lounge with three people you’d prefer not be around. “Guys! Do you remember her? Stupid question, of fucking course you do, we used to be over at their place all the time.” Then she abruptly stops, causing you to stumble a little. She turns to you, a snide expression of her face, and the knot in your head tightens. “Well. That was until things went to shit with your family eight years ago, right?”

Your jaw clenches. You manage your breaths. You remember her being awful, but it was never directed to you because she always used to follow you around. To talk shit about everyone in your circle with you listening to make herself seem better than everyone else. Because it was your home that everyone used to frequent. Because it was your family that used to host these dinners, these gatherings, these whatevers.

No, you don’t envy the house you’re standing in right now. You’re just mad that you can’t say anything back because you still want the fucking catering company to give you a call in the future.

“Well, say something.”

“Noona,” a voice interrupts. You look and see it’s Kim Donghyun, Haera’s younger brother. The other kid, Lee Sanghyeok, looks like he isn’t even listening to what’s going on— which you’d have preferred over whatever the fuck Haera is doing.  “I think that’s enough.”

Haera ignores him. “Seriously, what happened to you?” she presses on, and you stifle a sigh.

“Mrs Kim disallowed any of the catering staff to enter unauthorized areas and to talk to any of the guests and members of the household,” you finally say with a tight-lipped smile. “I apologize for the intrusion. If you’d excuse me—”

“I’m not done talking to you.” 

You’re yanked back, a strain in your shoulder socket as you stifle down a swear. She looks down on the sleeve she wrinkled— the server uniform you’d been wearing all afternoon to evening, stained-white in color. She breathes out a snicker. 

“You might’ve been used to looking down on me when we were kids, but it looks like things are different now.” Your head hurts. It’s like maturity never befriended her these past ten years. “Now, tell me. Did you just choose to move after your house burnt down? Or did the Choi’s really screw you guys over?”

“Noona!”

“You just disappeared into thin air after that happened,” she remarks. “The least that you could’ve done was give me a heads up that you’re coming back to work here. I could’ve handed you a pretty handsome tip while you were serving the table.”

There’s only so much shit you can take. One more jab, and your patience might just run out. But at that moment, you hear the door to the lounge slide open. Your heart races in panic, fearing it might be one of their parents, but it isn’t.

You’re not sure if the person that just walked it would make this situation better or worse.

“Haera.”

It’s the second time you’ve made eye contact with Na Jaemin tonight. The first two times after ten years and seeing him all grown up is still a huge slap in the face. His hair is bleached, almost white, which is a surprise knowing how uptight his parents are. He called out Haera’s name, but you can tell he’s looking at you. He’s looking at you with the same expression that he wore at the dining room table earlier— shock, surprise— pleasant or otherwise and you can’t really tell, but he quickly brushes it off to the side when Haera lets out a gasp and runs up to him.

“Oppa!” she exclaims. “What are you doing here? Did you come to see me?”

Na Jaemin simply smiles. “Mr and Mrs Heo are about to make their leave. Your parents want you to see them out.” 

Seeing the disappointment in her face is almost funny. Haera lets out a groan. “Donghyun, let’s go.” And her brother scuttles along with her too, giving you a single hesitant glance before turning away. This is your cue to leave. You quickly turn again, facing the open mouth of the servant hallway just as you hear Na Jaemin’s voice echo in the room again.

“Sanghyeok, you too. Jiyeon refuses to leave until she gets to see you.”

Huh. You don’t remember seeing Heo Jiyeon at the dinner table. You want to push forward, yet again you feel a familiar stare drilling into the back of your skull, so you take a peek over your shoulder. You see Lee Sanghyeok let out a tired grunt and forces himself off the couch, muttering a thank you to Jaemin before leaving the room as well, but the latter stays. 

He’s looking at you again. You can practically see the cloud of words floating above his head as tries to come up with an appropriate thing to say. It’s not like he can ignore you at this point. He’s been looking at you too much for it to slither under your notice.

Then, after much thought, he finally comes up with something to say.

“Do you know the way out?”

You pause. That’s interesting. No re-introductions. No musings of how he didn’t expect to ever see you again. No gripe about how low you’ve plummeted since he last saw you.

“No,” you reply. He makes his first steps towards you— past you, leading you through the intricacies of the servant tunnels, and before you know it, you’re outside just in the time for the sun to set, and Na Jaemin is looking at you again like he has so many things to say, but decides to say just one thing instead.

“I’ll walk you out the subdivision.”

Once more, you pause and think. What does he want? Is he stretching his time with you to get you to say something? To dig into why you left this neighborhood and how you ended up back here ten years later as a different person, just like Kim Haera? You can’t get a read on him. You never could, not ever since you were kids and first introduced to each other. As someone you should get close to. As someone who’d be a good match for you.

He’s still the same as ever. His face is still pretty. And he still stands an arms length away from you— never too close, and never too far.

“Na Jaemin,” you start. “I can still remember the directions and streets and twists and turns of Westwind. You don’t have to. It’s fine.” You finish it off with a smile on your face, albeit somewhat forced. 

“It’s getting late,” he responds, practiced and polite, and you almost laugh. “I should at least make sure you make it your ride home.”

“Well. Alright,” you finally say, and like earlier he brushes past you, a little ahead of you, and you start walking in rhythm down the familiar streets of the neighborhood. Much to your surprise, he’s quiet. It’s been a few minutes since the Kim’s house has gone out of sight, but he hasn’t started prying yet. Then again, you don’t remember him being as much of a snob as Haera. In your memories, Na Jaemin has always been quiet and polite— smiling when he needs to, talking when he needs to. He never does anything more than necessary. 

At least to you. He’s a little different when he’s around his friends. With the Lees, who live just a block away. He smiles more with them than when he does with you. Then again, you two aren’t exactly friends nor strangers, but it isn’t fair to just call him an acquaintance.

Na Jaemin notices you drilling holes into the side of his face and stops walking. It’s payback from earlier. He’s waiting for you to talk. So you do. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask?” 

This catches him off guard. Your mouth twitches. It’s barely a smile.

“Like, oh my god, what the hell happened to you, you used to be the most privileged rich kid in the neighborhood— why are you serving tables and letting Kim Haera spit on your face?” you rattle on, taking one step and more and this time it’s you taking the lead ahead. You spin your heels, walking backwards with your hands tucked behind your back. Na Jaemin looks like he’d been exposed. You laugh and turn back to face the right side of the road. “I know you’re curious. You’ve been looking at me like you want to pick apart my brain since I first intruded into your dinner.”

“Would you answer?” he says gruffly, trying to match your pace, but he can’t quite keep up with the bounce in your step as you near the exit of the subdivision.

“If you ask nicely,” you hum. “Considering our history, I think you deserve to know. More than Kim Haera at the very least.” 

This prompts a huff from him, close to a laugh. You smile. “I remember the fire that occurred, and you and your family left the neighborhood not long after,” Na Jaemin finally starts. “I thought you’d just left while waiting for your house to get repaired, but a few weeks passed and your home was still in the same state.”

You’ve reached the outside of the neighborhood, past the toll gate, and much to your surprise, Na Jaemin is still walking with you. He’s managed to overtake your lead, headed towards the bus stop. 

“When I asked my parents about what happened, the only thing they said is that you had a stroke of bad luck and I shouldn’t concern myself with you again.” Na Jaemin turns around, stopping underneath the waiting shed outside the premises of Westwind. You remember being in this same spot with him a few times before, but the shed is smaller than you remember. Or maybe you two just grew taller. 

He’s still bad at asking for what he wants though. He’s looking at you patiently to answer his unasked question. You relent, looking up at the slowly darkening sky. 

“A stroke of bad luck seems just about right.”

Your mother comes from old money, and your father not quite. He was upper-middle class at most, and her family didn’t approve of him. They were already pressuring her to break up while they were still dating, and eloping with him didn’t elicit a great reaction. She got cut off. At the very least she kept the house you, your parents, and grandfather had formerly lived in under her name, as well as a trust fund that still ensured her a more than comfortable rest of her life. Your father didn’t slack either. He managed to build himself up with two of his friends by investing and starting a finance firm.

It didn’t take long for your family’s wealth to grow, and by the time you were born, you were already handed a silver spoon.

But things go wrong just as quickly as they go right.

Your grandfather had a gambling addiction. The only reason why you found out about it is the yelling you’d overheard from your dad’s study every week. That enough wouldn’t be enough to squander off all your wealth, but it was the first domino that caused everything to collapse. Not long after, your father got betrayed by his business partners. You didn’t know the details since you were only fourteen when it happened, but you knew well enough to understand that your picture perfect life had started to crumple.

The dinners your family hosts every week suddenly stopped. Your household had to retrench, downsizing the number of workers, maids, gardeners, cooks, drivers and you started catching the bus to and from school. 

Perhaps some of the employees that got laid off grew resentful. Their resentment came in the form of being woken up in the middle of the night by your mother. You still vividly remember every beat of the scene— the warm and arid air, the smell of something suffocating, and the unusual bursts of light pouring from the outside. From the garden. And then your mother practically dragged your small frame out of the room, down the stairs, until you finally reached outside where you saw black smoke replacing the clouds in the sky, and the sound of sirens quickly growing louder and louder by the second.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.” You and Na Jaemin are now sitting on the bench under the shed, waiting for your bus to arrive. “I guess coming back to this neighborhood again reminded me that I’m still bitter.”

You flit your eyes up, trying to gauge Jaemin’s expression, but of course he’s still impossible to read. Is it sympathy? Pity? Derision? You have no idea.

“Haera was dying to find out how my life got royally screwed over,” you let out with a stretch. The aftermath of working for five hours is starting to hit. You’re gonna have a cold shower once you get home. “Feel free to spread the news like wildfire because I’m pretty sure the other kids want to know, too. Might as well make a novel out of it.”

The headlights of a bus come into sight. It stops briefly on the side of the road before you. Then it passes by with the hum of the engine.

“What makes you think I’m the type to gossip?” he asks. You don’t even catch a single ounce of offense from his tone.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “We never really talked much.”

Jaemin releases something short of a laugh. “That’s true.” Then a pause. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Why would you be? It’s not like it’s your or your family’s fault,” you say. “I’m pretty happy with my life right now. Got into uni with a full-ride scholarship and I just made a hundred thousand in one day. I’m pretty sure a nice and warm meal is waiting for me when I get home too.”

He hums. “Where do you study?”

“KSU,” you reply. “You? I remember you’ve been preparing for med school since elementary, so I’m guessing NCIT?”

“You seem to know your universities well,” he quips. “And I’m surprised you even know of that.”

“Of course. You were practically my de facto fiancee from when I was nine to twelve. My parents make it a habit to advertise you over dinner without fail. Everything I know about you is against my will, Jaemin.” You joke, laughing. The corners of Na Jaemin’s mouth twitches upwards too, a little flustered when his head turns down a little, and you can see the length of his eyelashes hovering above his cheeks. “To be honest, I really thought we’d end up getting married with how much our families kept pushing us together. But I guess it’s another funny swing of fate that my circumstances made sure that neither of us would fall into an arranged marriage.”

It’s official. You simply aren’t equipped to understand the makings of Na Jaemin’s head based solely on his expressions. He’s stopped looking down, eyes directed at you with a gravity that nearly overwhelms and you want to ask what? Why are you looking at me like that? What exactly do you want to know and why can’t you just say it?

Still, you keep those questions locked in your throat because another bus approaches, and the sky is now more black than orange. Maybe you shouldn’t let this one pass by.

“Anyway, thanks for walking me out and waiting with me, Jaemin,” you say as you ready to stand up, dusting your trousers and your already stained white shirt. “And thanks for, you know, being a decent fucking person.”

The bus comes closer. You take this as a signal to leave and bid this neighborhood goodbye— maybe for good this time— but right before the bus makes a screeching halt before the waiting shed, your steps stagger from the sound of Na Jaemin’s voice behind you.

“Do you miss it?” 

You pause. You look over your shoulder and see Jaemin standing underneath the shade. The streetlight nearby flickers on. It illuminates the right side of his face.

“The life you had before,” he says. “Do you want to get it back?”

Regardless, it’s still impossible to decipher his expression, to figure out what he wants and what he means.

You hear the bus pull over, the sound of the door exhausting open. You give Na Jaemin one last smile before turning around, getting on the vehicle without a reply, and he doesn’t stop you to hear one.

*

“Shhh! Your footsteps are too loud, you’re gonna wake her up!”

“Isn’t that what we’re here for? To wake her up?”

“Yeah, but that’s no fun. Let’s scare her awake.”

“Uh, no thanks? I don’t want to get punched in the face.”

“Just let her sleep, she must be tired.”

“Booo, you’re two are so lame.”

For a second, you thought your friends had managed to pry themselves into your dreams, disturbing your sleep in the most inelegant way possible. Then you realize that their voices sound a lot more vivid, a lot closer than you thought. Like they’re in the room with you right now. So when you groan and peel your eyes open— indeed, lo and behold, here they are: Jay Park, Jake Shim, and Park Sunghoon in the flesh.

Jake is frozen and hovering above you like he’d just been caught committing theft. Sunghoon is trying to pull him away from your mattress. Jay is by the doorstep, pretending like he has nothing to do with this and immediately spinning his body one-eighty the moment you meet eyes.

You squint at Jake. He flinches back. “O—oh, you’re awake, haha.” 

Sunghoon successfully shovels Jake away. “Did we wake you?” he asks, replacing the latter’s spot on the left side of your mattress. 

There’s a guilty look on his face. You make it worse when you respond with, “What do you think?” propping yourself up with your elbows because you don’t particularly enjoy being looked down on. 

“Hey, your mom gave us permission to drag you out of bed,” interjects Jake. “Get up and get ready. Today’s the opening festival. You promised you’d attend this year!”

“I promised to watch Hee perform,” you correct. “He’s not gonna be on stage until the afternoon. Let me enjoy my morning off, you home invaders.” That was your ending statement before burying yourself into your pillow again, turning your back to the boys and then you hear Jay’s footsteps finally joining in the party.

“It is the afternoon,” he informs.

You jolt. Jay is now squatting at the foot of your mattress. “Shit, really?” 

He snorts. “Go check.”

Your hands scramble for your phone that you remember you left charging on the floor nearby somewhere. Sunghoon finds it before you. He pulls it out of the socket and hands it to you, and you confirm that it is in fact the afternoon. One-thirty, to be exact. You mutter a swear. “Fuck.” You nearly trip over your blanket when you stumble out of bed, promptly banishing the three of them to the downstairs diner while you get ready.

“Mom, you should make these idiots pay for their meals.” 

That’s the first thing you announce while running down the stairs, knowing full well that those three are already helping themselves to some gukbap and kimchi, and they don’t disappoint. Jake pops his head up from the table, cheeks puffed up and beckoning you over like this isn’t your family’s own restaurant. “Come get yours, dear,” your mother calls out from the kitchen, emerging with your own bowl of rice soup, and you quickly pad over to take it from her. 

“Seriously,” you start, moving over to the table, slotting yourself into the empty seat next to Sunghoon and in front of Jay. “We can open up a new branch if you total the amount they’ve been leeching for the past two years.”

You set your meal down with a clatter. Park Sunghoon stops eating at your declaration. His spoon hovers five centimeters away from his open mouth.

“Hoon, I’m joking.” Your hand lands on his wrist. You lead the spoon into his mouth and shut his jaw. “Eat up. You look like you’ve lost weight recently.”

“I only eat well when I’m eating auntie’s food,” he retorts, muffled, and takes another spoonful for himself. Sneaky guy probably noticed that your mom was coming over to earn a few points from her. Which works, because your mom looks extra happy when she presses her hands on the edge of the table, watching the four of you eat with eyes glazed in satisfaction. Your eyes flit down to her hands— rough and calloused with a band aid and a wedding ring wrapped on the fourth finger. 

“You know, you kids are welcome here any time, right?”

It’s been three weeks since your last visit to Westwind. At the Kim’s. But Na Jaemin’s parting question seems to find its way into your mind whenever you let your thoughts drift for too long.

Do you miss it?

This bite is suddenly hard to swallow. You set your chopsticks down with a clang.

“Where’s dad?” 

Your mom looks over to you, cutting her conversation short with Jay. “Making a delivery,” she replies. A huff escapes your throat. 

“Don’t you think it’s about time we hire part-timers?”

Jake sees this as an opportunity. You can literally see his eyes sparkle. “Auntie, hire me!” The table shakes. “Ow!” You snap your head to Sunghoon, who’s feigning innocence with his meal while Jake gives him the what gives? face. 

“We can still manage the store by ourselves,” your mother argues. “And Jungwoo and Jeonghan come by sometimes to help when you’re not around.”

“You should call us if you need any extra hand, auntie,” Sunghoon says. “Our schedule is pretty lenient this semester.”

“What do you mean lenient, we have four major—”

Sunghoon also cuts Jay off with an under the table kick and a smile. You mom laughs. “I appreciate the sentiments, but you kids should focus on your studies.”

You open your mouth to retort, but she ultimately shushes you and says she needs to organize some things in the kitchen. “Hey, finish your food,” Jay scolds, pushing your bowl closer to you. You stick your tongue out and pick up your spoon again. “I think we need to head out in fifteen minutes. Jungwon texted that the field is already getting crowded.”

The four of you finish your meals. Gukbap has been your diner’s specialty ever since your mom mastered how to cook it after countless trial and errors. It wasn’t easy adjusting from having ready to eat meals the moment you sit on the dinner table to having to curate your own menu just to make a living. After the losses your family incurred, you had to scrape up whatever you had left and moved to an affordable place in downtown Seoul. Both your parents had to start working, and it was your grandfather that always greeted you the moment  you returned home from school. 

However, when he passed away, the three of you moved to a new place that’s smaller and bigger at the same time— a two-storey building that you rented out to serve as a diner downstairs and a home at the top. You exit through the fogged doors with the sound of a jingle, stopping to turn around and follow the building’s height. It’s not too tall, wedged between two other rental spaces. A hair salon on the right. A computer shop on the left.

The life you had before.

Once again, Na Jaemin’s voice echoes in your ears. 

Do you want to get it back?

You see the blur of Sunghoon’s mouth move, but you don’t hear anything. You blink. A car zooms by. A flock of birds flutter away. You clear your throat, refocusing your gaze on your friend. “Sorry, what was that?”

His eyes are fixed on you, brows slightly knitted. “Nothing.” he mumbles. “You have something on your face.”

You flinch a little when Sunghoon suddenly brings a hand to your cheekbone, eyelids blinking rapidly in surprise as his thumb and index finger brush lightly against your skin, revealing a barely visible eyelash strand when he pulls his hand away. There’s a subtle smile on his face when his gaze lingers on the stray lash before glancing at you.

“Make a wish,” he jokes. You scoff, rolling your eyes with a grin.

“Hey, put the PDA on hold. We have a bus to catch,” Jay interrupts. Sunghoon clicks his tongue in response. He flicks the lash away and stuffs his free hand into a jacket pocket, extending his other arm behind you to hook around your shoulders, and your feet skid against the ground as you bump into him.

It’s nothing that catches you off guard nor surprised. The four of you are walking to the bus stop, yet it isn’t just the four of you occupying the neighborhood. It’s early afternoon. The sidewalks and streets are busy. Park Sunghoon has the habit of pulling you as close to him as physically possible. A middle-aged man in a suit approaches from the opposite direction, you in his line of collision, and Sunghoon quickly steps to the side and pulls you closer to evade the fast approaching businessman, who was way too caught up in his call over the phone to pay you any mind. 

The gesture is impossible not to notice— Jake and Jay included, but they never say anything about it. Neither do you. Neither does Sunghoon.

Your bus arrives. All seats are taken. Any space you once had to breathe diminishes to nonexistence as you try and balance yourself amidst the standing crowd. “You okay?” Sunghoon’s voice is a mere whisper reserved for you to hear. You’re standing in front of him, arms glued to your body because you lost the opportunity to grab the handgrip before you got squeezed stuck by the rush of passengers flooding in.

“Never better,” you let out a strained laugh. Sunghoon frowns a little. The bus rattles. He presses a firm hold against your back before you could even stumble. You notice his gaze flicker into a glare, jaw clenched and pointed at the stranger near you who’s unintentionally digging his elbow into your shoulder blade. You clear your throat, catching his and the other two’s attention. “Park Jongseong, what’s the purpose of your car if you don’t even use it? We would’ve been sitting comfortably and moving faster by now. What a waste of an investment.”

That was half a joke, half not really. Your commutes to campus are always a grueling one-hour experience. Jay narrows his eyes at you, unamused. “You guys keep abusing my vehicle rights. Don’t you know how exhausting it is to drive all of you home all the time?”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Jake jives in. You nod solemnly. Jay’s mouth hangs open. He looks at Sunghoon for backup but the poor guy is simply ignored.

“Imagine all the time and money we’d save if you were more charitable,” you continue. “Hoon, don’t you agree?”

Park Sunghoon doesn’t give you the answer you’re looking for. “Should I get a license?” he instead asks. You blink at him. He blinks back. 

“Will you drive me to campus every day?” you hum, smiling in jest. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you want,” is his answer. His gaze has softened. You hear Jake cough from next to you. Jay gives up his retaliation. The bus halts. Everyone leans to the back and you’re reminded by Sunghoon’s firm hold. He presses you into him closer if it’s even possible, if there’s even any space left between you to swallow— and if there is, you don’t see nor feel it. The only thing you feel is the heat emanating from his skin that’s seeping into yours.

A few bodies finally get down from the vehicle. You breathe. You take a step away and grab onto the now vacant handgrip closest to you. Sunghoon’s hold loosens, but his fingers still linger on the curve of your spine. It stays there until you arrive at your stop right across the street from the campus gates. From the bus windows alone, you can already see the staggering amount of people flooding inside. 

It gets worse the moment you actually step foot on campus. The first person you lock eyes with— Kim Taerae, welcoming committee since last year— hits you in the face with his business-smile, wide and tight and brimming with sweetness. “Hey, traitor. How dare you show your face here?”

The student council also asked you to be part of the committee. Of course you fucking said no. “Aren’t you gonna welcome me in?” you jab. Taerae’s smile twitches, but a group of actual freshmen walk in and he’s forced to start his welcoming protocol.

Even after getting off the bus, Park Sunghoon is no less closer. You say goodbye to Taerae and greet Seok Matthew, who’s wearing the university fox mascot (which arguably looks like a fursuit, but you digress), with a wave and a camera pointed at him, and Sunghoon maintains a steady hold on your arm as you navigate further into campus grounds.

“Later, Matthew!”

“See you around!”

Yet your path towards the field next to the courtyard keeps getting interrupted. 

Every now and again, you’re stopped by a familiar face to exchange greetings. This is why you don’t usually attend university events and festivals. On normal days, people usually stick to their class and extracurricular schedules. But on days like these, everyone is out and about. Meaning, your chances of bumping into someone you know is one in twenty. Renjun from the astronomy club passes by with a hello. Chaewon from one of your electives stops you and tells you to visit their department booth later in the evening.

“Let’s catch a meal sometime!”

Honestly, you’re used to it. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve been conditioned to deal with people and manage your web of relationships in order to seamlessly fit into the ‘elite’ social scene. Every party, every dinner, every event, you’re introduced to a new acquaintance, new same-faced adult, new person to the point where you had to dedicate an entire space inside your brain just dedicated to the faces and names you needed to keep track of.

The space was made up of rows and rows of filing cabinets, sorted according to the people most important to you, the people you may or may not meet again in the future, the people you resent. The son of the neighbors across the block. The daughter of the lawyer that you used to sit in silence with. The kid you met over vacation who always seemed to be crying. The countless adults who’d compliment you for being so well-mannered, so pleasant, so sociable even as a child. 

But at some point it gets overwhelming. And when your life turned upside down, you stopped seeing a point in maintaining all these relationships. The cabinets were left unopened, catching dust and cobwebs in that one corner in your brain. That was until a senior of yours back in high school gave you some advice. Something you’d held onto until today.

This is why you shouldn't push people away, he had once told you. Don’t you think it'd be better if you let your thoughts out instead of getting drowned by them?

And that was when the filing cabinets started to get filled again. The classmate you surprisingly shared a lot of interests with. The teacher who helped you with your college applications back in high school. The junior from high school who always kept picking fights with everyone. And the four current friends you have from your year and major, who had somehow wiggled themselves into the near barren drawer saved for the people that mean the most to you, in spite of all the space available underneath.

“Hee texted,” you announce, holding up your phone. Sunghoon nudges his face closer over your shoulder to take a peek. “There’s a delay in the program. They won’t be up for another thirty, forty minutes.” The three expectedly groan in annoyance. You are also annoyed. You could’ve slept in a bit more had you known about the delay, but you quickly swallow down any displeasure from your expression because you spot yet another familiar face amidst the crowd. One of your classmates from a general education. It’d be rude not to say hi. “Hyeju!” you call out. 

She spins around, annoyed surprise brightening into a more pleasant expression upon recognizing you. “Oh, hey! How was your break?”

“Nonexistent,” is your very eloquent reply, smiling. Hyeju laughs in sympathy. “Did you see who our prof for the semester will be? Jesus, I’m already predicting dread for the next five months of— whoa!” Suddenly, you’re nabbed and spun around and all you can see is a whir. Click, you hear while your vision is still wobbly, and when your gaze refocuses, you recognize the culprit with the camera in hand, and your forehead wrinkles. “Seonbae, what the fuck?”

Kim Mingyu lowers down his camera to reveal a widely grinning face. “Smile. I need a pretty face for the news update.”

Hyeju taps your arm to inform you she’s leaving. You look at Mingyu, arms crossed and unamused. “Where’s my appearance fee?”

“I’ll buy you coffee,” he responds, signaling to your other three friends (that you momentarily forgot about) to join in the picture as well. You relent with a sigh, beckoning them to come over. Jake hops over and asks if he’s getting coffee as well. Jay wordlessly strides over and puts up a peace sign behind your head. Sunghoon wedges himself between you and Jake and throws an arm over your shoulder. These guys are so overbearing. Mingyu counts from three with his fingers. The camera clicks. He shoots you a grin with a thumbs up. “Thanks. Love you!”

That guy is also a handful. Your sigh is heard by the three of them. “Is this why you hate attending festivals?” muses Jay.

“The woes of being a wanted woman,” you lament. Jake snorts at your woes. You elbow him in the rib.

“You’re so full of yourself.” Jay rolls his eyes, and that’s when he sees something from his peripheral. “Looks like you’ve got another friend, Miss Wanted.”

You follow his eyes and your gaze stops at an approaching Park Gunwook. His jog slows to a walk once he’s within your earshot. “Oh my god, just the person I wanted to see,” your junior starts. Well, that’s never a good conversation starter. “Seonbae, are you busy? Do you mind lending us a hand?”

Exactly as you feared. “What for?” you ask with preemptive exhaustion.

“Our booth sign,” he explains. “Kwan-hyung disappeared. He was supposed to be the one to— ack. Nevermind. Can you help? You’ve done calligraphy before, right?”

The time you take to think about Gunwook’s request coincides with the amount of time Gunwook is sweating in nervous, hopeful anticipation. He’s giving you puppy eyes, respectfulll offering up the marker with both palms open like he’s offering it up for the heavens. You sigh again and take the marker from him. “You three go look for a spot. Call me when Hee’s about to perform.”

Jake simply laughs at your misery. Jay is the only decent one enough to give you a response. “Sure, no problem.” The two already start walking, but Sunghoon is lagging behind. You give him a smile and wave off. “Sunghoon, let’s go,” Jay nudges him. He relents with a grunt and tells you not to go off on your own for too long.

Now, with three men gone, you thought you’d finally get some breathing room.

Unfortunately for you, doing a favor for one cute junior also means doing favors for all of your cute juniors. And you’ve collected many cute juniors in the three years you’ve wasted away in this university. You thought Gunwook’s sign was the end of it. “Noona!” you hear from your left, and it’s Jungwon and Sunoo trailing behind him. “Can you write ours too? Sunoo-hyung’s handwriting is so bad.”

“It’s not! What I made wasn’t even half bad!”

Why exactly are you peers making the second years and freshmen take care of the booth shit? These kids are supposed to be the ones enjoying the festival right now, for fuck’s sake. You’re in the middle of angrily scribbling onto a piece of chipboard when a classmate of yours enters your line of sight. These useless seniors. If they don’t want to work, might as well not show up, like what you’ve been doing for the past semesters.

“Noona!”

“Hold on.”

“Seonbae—”

“Your sign is on the chair over there, Gunwook.”

“Thank you, I love you, you’re the best.”

“Noona, ours too!”

“Sure, give me a second—”

“Noona.” 

“Yes?” Admittedly, you’re getting quite annoyed, but you don’t want to misdirect your attitude towards these poor kids who just got work tossed to them. “What is it?” you ask without looking up from the current sign post you’re working on— a free hugs sign for the physical education majors— hunched over on a low stool. You assume it’s just another one of the dozens of kids asking you to write a sign, but you’re surprised to feel a tug on your shirt.

You sit straight and turn around. You’re met by a face that you don’t remember seeing before. Sharp features. Dark hair. A little lengthy to the point that the framing strands touch his lashes. A mole under his eye— and the irises seem glassy. Your brows furrow. Who’s this? Is he a freshman? He doesn’t seem familiar at all.

“Noona,” he repeats. But the way he pronounces the honorific is. The soft cadence, the gentle pitch. The way the syllables roll off his tongue triggers a fuzzy sense of familiarity in you. Yet your attempt at reminiscence is ruined when you feel him grab your shoulders and jerk you forward, dropping the sign you’d been working on in the process and nearly stumbling off your seat. But you don’t. Because you’re suddenly caught in a suffocating embrace by someone you can’t quite tell if he’s a stranger or not. Your eyes widen. His frame is swallowing you whole. “It’s really you. I thought I was seeing things. It’s you. I missed you.”

“Excuse me? What are you—”

A familiar scent hits you. The ocean. The sea. A breeze on the shoreline brushing your hair off of your cheeks, and the wind of nostalgia disappears the moment the strange guy’s trembling grip starts to loosen as he pulls away, taking the scent of the sea away with him. His eyes are frantic— almost like he’s looking for something in the confused wrinkle of your expression. “Don’t you remember me?” he says. He looks like he’s about to cry. And that’s when it hits you.

“Oh— oh!” 

A distant summer when you were twelve. Before everything in your life got washed up by the waves.

On vacation you found a boy underneath a coconut tree on the far side of the rocky shore— a far too dangerous place for two children, yet you were interrupted from your seashell hunting by the sound of someone crying amidst the crashing waves. 

“Ricky! Ricky Shen! Oh my god, is it you?”

He was the boy you found that day, sobbing because he got separated from his parents during a vacation abroad. When he looked up at you with big eyes stained red by countless tears, you immediately took his hand and traversed the rocky path to take him back to your father for some help. 

It took you a while to understand his situation. You didn’t speak the same language. However, throughout his stay with you while waiting for his parents to return, you were able to teach him a few words and phrases.

“Noona.” That was one of them— spoken in the same tone he’d always used even when he was a kid. “I thought I’d never see you again.” That phrase wasn’t any of what you taught him. He’s gotten better, but isn’t…this sentiment a bit much? You’re happy to see him well and alive, but if you remember correctly, he only stayed with your family for around a week, and that doesn’t warrant such an intense reunion, so you’re a bit taken aback.

Yet you also consider that he was a kid back then— a kid who got lost in a foreign country who thought he’d never come home again. To you, it was just another week. To him, that another week stuck with him more than you could even begin to understand.

You want to ask him a bit more, like how did he end up here again, why is at your uni, how long until he has to go back—

“Seonbae!” 

—but you lose the chance when you’re interrupted by another one of your juniors. Kim Gyuvin runs up to you in a hurry. You duck down and pick up the chip board you dropped earlier. “Here’s your sign, you knucklehead,” you say, handing it over to him. Gyuvin happily takes it from you and stretches out his arms to read it.

“Oh, thank you!” he says. “But, ah, wait. Right. Someone’s looking for you. I told him to wait by our booth over there.”

“My god, who is it this time?” you grunt. No matter how life fucks you over and turns itself upside down, the amount of people that require your attention just can’t seem to decrease. The filing cabinets in your head can only take so many names. You hop off the stool, ready to leave, before remembering. “Ricky, can you wait for me here? I’ll be back in a sec.”

You start moving but your arm lags behind. You turn to see Ricky still holding onto the sleeve of your shirt, and really— he’s never changed. He might’ve gotten taller, might’ve gotten prettier, but he’s still as cute and clingy as you remember. The one week he spent at yours, the kid would tail you around like a lost kitten all the time.

“Let’s talk more later.” Smiling, you place a hand over his knuckles, and let his loose grip fall completely. He looks like he wants to say something, but he resigns by just nodding instead. “Gyub, where did you say they were?”

“At our booth! Come buy something from us while you’re at it.”

This kid thinks he can extort you. You head off to their booth and check your phone along the way, and you find a missed call and a text from Sunghoon asking where you are. HRM majors booth. Is Heeseung about to go up yet? you reply. Pocketing your phone, you hurry to your destination, squeezing through the barrage of bodies because if Hee is indeed about to perform soon, then you better hurry your ass up, else he’d get mad at you for being ‘such an unsupportive friend.’ His words. You’d rather not have anything that could be used against you.

When you reach the booth, you realize that you have no idea who exactly you’re supposed to be looking for and should’ve asked Gyuvin for a name or description or something. You look around, trying to find someone you know, but in the middle of your search, you feel something…soft drop on your head, falling over your eyes and obscuring your vision. 

The hell? You whip your head around blindly, annoyed. Then you hear a laugh. And you quickly remove the object obscuring your face to make sure that you’d just heard that correctly.

Your annoyance quickly disappears into pleasant surprise the moment you’re able to see the culprit’s face. He’s smiling pretty generously, you notice— not the held-back half smiles that he’d very also rarely display, but the kind you once called pretty and he told you to shut the fuck up with a prostesting grunt. It’s just one familiar face after another. These reunions never seem to end.

“Taesannie!” 

“Seonbae.”

You want to tease him for the rare occasion that he’s in a good mood, that he isn’t all grumpy and moody, but you want to savor this rare sight of him smiling as much as you can. You pull him in for a hug— which causes him to stiffen a little. He’s uncomfortable and you know it, and you laugh. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” you say with a wide grin, pulling back a bit. “How have you been, idiot? Have you been causing trouble again?”

“I messaged you on IG,” he says, wiggling out of your prison just enough for him to be able to hold your arms above your elbows. “Three months ago. When I got accepted to KSU. You never responded.”

Now, it’s your turn to freeze up. “Oops.” Since graduating high school, you realized you’ve never given him your number. “That’s—that’s my bad. But you know I don’t use social media.”

“I know,” Taesan huffs with a smile. He pulls down your left arm, fingers tracing down your skin until they reach your hand— the hand that removed his cap earlier and he snatches it off from you, fixing it on the top of your head again, gentler this time when he tugs down the visor, just enough for you to keep seeing his face. “That’s why I figured to just look for you myself.”

You feel a bump in your throat.

He’s so tenacious. He’s always been.

You simply laugh and shake your head. “Thanks for being so considerate to your unreliable, unthoughtful, and forgetful senior, Dongmin-ah. I’m glad you didn’t report me to Principal Lee for ghosting you.”

“He retired last year.“ Your face stiffens again. He laughs out loud. He’s been enjoying your mistakes a lot. What a handful. “Anyway, I at the very least hope you haven’t forgotten your promise, seonbae.”

“Promise?” you raise a brow. Crap, did you forget something again? Taesan’s smile disappears the moment you express your lack of remembrance. Your brows furrow, trying your best to recall, but you really don’t remember promising him anything because that’s just not something you would do often just to forget. 

“I got accepted to your university. I’m gonna start going to school with you again from now on,” he says, as if that’s enough to jog your missing memories. “Two years was a long time to wait, seonbae. I really don’t want to wait any longer.”

Your confused eyes try to trace hints from his expression. He did get accepted to KSU. He is going to uni with you now. The ID and lanyard he’s wearing is a proof of that— but so what?

So what, you try and tell yourself. But you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“Seonbae.”

Taesan looks at you expectantly. It’s difficult to meet his gaze. It’s difficult to get yourself out of this all by yourself. So when you feel the presence of someone approaching you from behind, you take the opportunity to whip your head back and see who it is. Yet rather than finding an opening, what greets you is another closed door. It’s Ricky. “Noona,” he calls out. “You said you won’t take long.”

Somehow, you’ve found yourself caught in a troublesome situation. Your balance stumbles a little. It’s Taesan tugging you back by the shoulder, fixing you closer to the ground right in front of him. “Who the hell are you?” He’s not looking at you— he’s looking right past you, straight at Ricky, who isn’t looking at him at all because the weight of the latter’s stare focused right on you is making you feel like you’re being sunk into the ground.

“Noona,” he repeats, ignoring Taesan altogether. “Let’s go look around the festival together.”

This is...very troublesome indeed. You can feel a throb on the right side of your head. The festival. Right. Has Heeseung’s performance started yet? That’s the only reason why you showed up today, anyway. 

Your attempt to pull your phone out of your pocket is blown off by a blunt pressure on your shoulder blade. You look behind to see the hostility in Taesan’s expression scrunching up even further. It’s like you're a mouse caught in between two starving cats. Good god. The only thing you can hope for right now is for someone to swoop in and get you out of here.

And that’s when you hear the sound of your name being called out.

You snap your head to the left to identify your savior. It’s Park Sunghoon with a bitter look on his face. You let out a quiet sigh of relief— but not silent enough to slip past Taesan’s notice.

His gaze flickers down at you. What? What are you going to do? Leave? the glint in his eyes seem to say. He doesn’t look very happy. Neither do the other two men within your premises, and Sunghoon calls out to you again. “Heeseung hyung is about to perform.” A hand around your wrist. Sunghoon pulls you away from Taesan with a firm tug. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Sunghoon, give me a sec—” You pry yourself out of his hold, patting around your trousers for the marker you used earlier, and calling out Gyuvin from their booth just a few steps away for a piece of scrap paper, on which you scribble down your number. When you look up, it’s fortunate that Ricky and Taesan are still there, albeit not looking too happy. You’re pretty sure the one waiting behind you isn’t amused either with your stalling. “Hey, it was nice seeing you two kids again, but I need to go. Let’s catch up some other time, okay? Here’s my—”

You’re pulled back, the sheet with your number on it slipping past your fingers and brushing through the wind before you could finish your sentence or hand it over to either of them. 

Surprised, your head turns to Sunghoon, who’s dragging you off at an impatient pace. “Hoon,” you try calling out. He leads you into a tight crown. Your shoulders and elbows bump into people you don't know. “Hoonie, you’re grabbing me too tight, hey!”

You tear yourself away from him. You’re in the midst of a crowd in the middle of the courtyard— all jamming to the music from the front, stage lights flashing and flickering and flitting around as it starts to get dark. You look at him, brows knitted together, but bite your tongue from saying anything too rough upon seeing the expression he’s wearing.

The only way you can describe it is that he looks like he’s about to die. 

“Park Sunghoon,” you start, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer. His eyes leave you when a group of students suddenly come rushing over in the heat of the party, and he closes the space you put in between the both of you by pulling you out of the way of the incoming mob. “Who were they?” he asks. “I know you’re friends with a lot of people, but I’ve never seen those two before. Who were those two?”

Your open palms are pressed against his chest. “One of them, I picked up from the beach when I was a kid.” You use them to push yourself back once the noise from the group has already passed. “The other was a junior in high school. I think they’re both incoming freshmen this year. More importantly, where’s Heeseung? I thought he was about to perform?”

Attempting to look through the large crowd ahead of you, you stretch yourself up with the tips of your toes. “Are you close?” Sunghoon asks again, finding a spot on the small of your back to keep you balanced while you look over his shoulder.  “They acted like they were close with you.”

“I don’t know,” is your only reply. “Hey, Jake and Jay are over there! Heeseung, too! Hoon, let’s go!”

Sunghoon does not pry further. He lets himself get tugged along by you as you fight through the crowd, making it just in time to where Jay and Jake are standing before they could call either of you as Heeseung walks up the stage with a huge smile. Right. This is the only reason why you came here today. Everything else is just secondary— stored up in the back of your mind, behind all of your current priorities.

Which is why the moment Heeseung finishes, you immediately excuse yourself from the other three.

“Already?” Jake whines. “C’mon! We were planning on grabbing drinks after this.”

“You still have your shift at the laundromat, right?” Jay asks. “At least say goodbye to Hee first before leaving.”

“Tell him I’ll send him a long sappy message later!” you shout through the noise. “See you guys tomorrow!”

Before you go, you glance at Sunghoon. He wants to say something, you can tell that much. Your lungs grow heavy. All you want to do is just unload washing machines and wipe the floors and windows clean at Suds right now with your music at full volume. Sunghoon finally settles with a simple, “text us when you get to work.” This elicits a look of surprise from Jake.

“Whoa. You aren’t gonna offer to take her there?”

Sunghoon only grunt. You smile and bid them farewell, and for once, you aren’t stopped or interrupted by anyone, and your walk towards the exit gate off the campus runs smoothly along with the setting of the sun. When you take your first step on the pavement right outside university premises, your phone buzzes to a text. [seonbae. it’s taesan]. Followed by another. [what time do your classes end tomorrow? wanna grab dinner together?]

At least you know they got your note. You balance yourself on the bus ride to your part-time job as you think of a response. Tomorrow. What’s on your schedule, again? You have classes from ten to four, and your lunch break is most likely gonna be spent with the four idiots. Tomorrow’s dinner is already booked, too, and your dinner date might get sulky if you cancel on him again this time.

[Will Friday work? Sorry, I’m booked today, Taesan. But we can have a mini-celebration at the end of the week for your KSU acceptance :) what do you say?].

*

The next morning, when you come down for breakfast, you see your dad wearing a suit.

For a second, you almost completely gloss over it, greeting them a good morning as you walk over the counter for a glass of water. Then you notice he’s not wearing his bike helmet. And when you sniff your nose, you can smell the scent of musky perfume. That’s when you notice.

“Whoa,” you remark, setting your glass down onto the counter. Your mom is helping him fix up his tie. You quickly twirl open your phone to snap this gem of a photo. “What’s the occasion? I don’t recall you having any friends’ whose weddings you can attend.” 

You receive a scolding from your mom and a hearty laugh from your dad. 

“How do you know I don’t have any friends?” he responds with a smile. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s grab a taxi, I’ll drop you off at your school.”

Even though that doesn’t answer your questions about his plans for today, you neither pry nor push because you know their standard protocol for these things. If they get a catering offer for a big event, you’re the first one they tell. If the electricity bills go up or if a debtor showed up while you’re outside, you wouldn’t even know unless you dig into it, unless you ask a neighbor or a friend or find some evidence they left behind somewhere in the restaurant. 

The entire taxi ride is uncomfortable. Not in any way because of the conversation your father is attempting to strike. But because the car’s air conditioning is making your head spin and nauseous. “Why didn’t your friends come by today, by the way?”

“They were too late in fixing their schedules, so they have a 7 a.m. class today,” you snort, laughing. You sometimes wonder why they even bother coming around so often, considering your place is an hour-long commute to and from campus, and Jay never brings his fucking car around. 

Your dad makes a comment about which one of them is more your type. You hack out a cough and cover your ears to block his amused laughter out.

“Hey, I’m just asking! My only dream is to see you happily married before I die, you know.”

“Change your dream. I don’t want to be the reason if you live an unfulfilled life,” you groan, face burning up. “Hold on. I’m getting a text from Jeonghan-seonbae.”

“He’s a pretty good candidate too.”

“Stop it! Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

You quickly unlock your phone to read the message. [hey, busy bee. just texting to make you’re not canceling our plans again later 🥰🥰]. You’re pretty sure that this is a threat. How many coffees, lunches, drinks, and dinners have you ruined with him because you had a sudden deadline that day, a work opportunity that same evening. He’d always been understanding, but you never fail to feel guilty after all he’s helped you, and you can’t even give him a few hours of your time. [I’m not!!! I’ll see you at Eojetbam, promise 😞].

“You’re seeing him later, right?” your dad asks.

“Yup. He’s treating me to dinner at this fancy restaurant downtown.”

Unlike usual, your father doesn’t make a comment at your subtle bragging. There’s a look on his face that you can’t pinpoint. “That’s nice,” is all he says after a momentary pause. “Ask him to drive you home tonight.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that,” you disagree. “I still have a bit of shame left, you know.”

You reach campus, and attempt to pay half of the taxi meter but your father simply shoo’s you away. With heavy steps and defeated shoulders, you make your way inside the gate and are greeted by Yeojin, your classmate for the first class you have on your schedule, who just happens to arrive at the same time as you after grabbing a coffee from Drip across the street.

“First day of the semester and I’m already tired,” she tells you with a dejected sigh. “On more exciting news— we got new eye candy on campus. My friends from the fashion and design department told me that two cute new freshmen caught everyone’s attention during the orientation. Their building is right next to ours. God, I hope we bump into one of them today. Just the energizer I’d need.”

All you do is laugh at her news while entertaining the faintest idea that you might know who one of those two is. Last night, you’d called Taesan upon getting home to compensate for turning him down. You caught up a bit, exchanged schedules and he told you his major— fashion merchandising, which caught you by surprise. Well, considering it still falls under business, you could believe it a little better.

Anyhow, if he finds out that he’s been crowned as his department’s cute new eye candy as a title, you’re sure he’d be pretty fucking annoyed. And you intend to capitalize on that. More teasing fuel for you.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s not waste time on introductions and head straight to our course outline.”

What a way to start the semester. You hold back a million yawns while taking some notes of Prof Yang’s overview of the syllabus. Yeojin asks if you want to hit the cafeteria for a snack in between classes. You shoot her a thumbs up and the moment Prof Yang dimisses, you’re both out the door and into the hallway.

“Hey, hurry up!” you call out to her when she stumbles over her undone shoelaces. “The guys from the phys ed department usually flood the canteen at this time, you know. They’re gonna sweep up all our portions.”

“Not on my watch, they won’t.”

You laugh as you walk ahead, your line of sight lagging behind your body because you want to watch more of her struggling to re-tie her laces as quickly as you can. This causes you to not look at where you’re going— and where you’re going is straight into the body of another person, bumping your nose in the process. “Ow!” you exclaim. “Sorry about that!”

“Noona.”

Oh. You pause, looking up to take a good look at your victim of negligence, and it is indeed Ricky Shen. “Ricky!” you greet. “Did you get home safe after the festival last night? How did you know I was here?”

He smiles as a response. You hold back the urge to squish his face between your palms, reminding yourself that he’s not a kid anymore. “I asked around. Turns out our buildings are next to each other, noona.”

That urge isn’t easily suppressed. “Wow!” you exclaim. Your hand somehow finds itself reaching for the fluff of his hair, and Ricky tips his head down in response, allowing you to press light pats on the crown of his head. “Good job. Now you won’t have to worry about getting lost anywhere anymore.” It hits you as an afterthought though— he could’ve just texted you to ask. Why bother asking someone when he could’ve asked you directly. Taesan got your number even amidst the rush, after all. Ricky must’ve too.

“Noona,” Ricky’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “My back is starting to ache a bit.” 

You flinch and snap out of it. “Oh, sorry.” You retract your hand, pulling it close to your chest. “Force of habit, I guess.” If your recollection serves you right, Ricky was very much shorter than you. He’s two years younger, and in the brief week he’d spent with you in your household, you’d been used to him looking up, trying to communicate with you the best that he can with the help of those big, sparkly eyes of his repeating, ‘Noona. Noona! Can we see the pond again? The koi pond?’

Now, you’re the one looking up at him. And a memory begins to surface.

‘Noona.’ It begins with the usual gentle timbre of his voice. ‘Can’t I just stay here with you forever?”

A laugh from Ricky stirs you back into the present. “I was just joking, I don’t really mind,” he hums, smiling. “You can touch me anywhere you want, noona.” 

Whoa, whoa, whoa— hold on. You manage a stiff smile. Whoever was his vocabulary teacher needs to get a demotion. This kid can be a bit much can he? You brush his comment off. Ricky’s gaze is as patient yet expectant as ever. “Anyhow, I’m off to the canteen with a friend of mine. Yeojin.” You point your thumb back at her. Said friend has been trying to sneak in the opportunity to insert herself into the conversation, but never got the opportunity. “Do you want to join us?”

He nods firmly. You laugh. His over the top-ness aside, Ricky can be painstakingly cute, and it’s taking everything in your power to prevent yourself from treating him the same way that you’d done before.

The cafeteria run only lasted briefly, considering you two still have a class to catch in less than fifteen minutes. After getting a vegetable wrap and Yeojin’s rice bowl, you had to bid Ricky farewell and return to your department building. On the way, right at the moment that you’d left Ricky’s earshot, Yeojin starts freaking the fuck out. “Whoa, what the fuck?! Dude, that was fashion department cutie number two! The one I mentioned earlier!” she shrieks into your ear, shaking you by the arm. “I hear he’s the son of SQR Fashion’s Chairwoman. What the hell? Why is a rich heir like him bowing his head down for your headpats and paying for our snacks?”

“Listen, I’m just as taken aback as you are.” You’ve known about Ricky’s background when his parents came back for him after his one-week missing period. “I met him once when I was like, twelve, and only bumped into him again yesterday. I’m surprised he still remembers me. He’s barely even an acquaintance.”

You’re not lying. You’re happy to see him, but it still puzzles you why Ricky is acting like this.

“How in the world would you have gotten acquainted with someone like him?!”

All you could do is smile and thank the heavens for the interruption in the form of your phone buzzing to an incoming text. It’s from your dad, asking if you’ve eaten yet, and reminding you to go home straight after your dinner with Jeonghan. Yet another display of weird behavior from a man in your life. He never usually texts you, not to mention what had happened earlier this morning. You might get some information from your mother later. You should pack some leftovers to bring home.

You receive another text. It’s a photo from Jay of Sunghoon, arms crossed and falling asleep in class. There’s drool on his face. You cackle and press save. Yeojin tugs you into the classroom. “We’re not late aren’t we?”

“No, not yet.

“Oh, hey!”

“Wow, you’re taking this class, too?”

The rest if your classes end in a flash, considering it’s only syllabus week, so you manage to get off earlier than you’d initially planned. Yeojin had already split up with you since she has other friends to meet. The four idiots are stuck here at uni until six in the evening because they screwed up their schedules for the semester, and you took a day off from your shift at 7-Eleven today because of the dinner you have scheduled.

That means, for the first time in a while, you’re all alone right now. All alone with nothing to do.

Should you pick up some hobbies? you think to yourself as you aimlessly walk through the streets of downtown to kill time. You’ve never really pondered on these things— not that you’ve ever had the privilege to. Picking up something like crocheting would only be a waste of money. It’s not like you have the time to get into a sport, either.

Your feet stop moving right in front of a bookstore. Open, the sign says. You look at the books on display through the glass. The owner smiles at you from inside. You turn your head, and your feet start moving again.

These books can be downloaded online. There’s no need to spend money on physical copies.

“Ah, my life is so boring,” you lament, continuing your mindless stroll. There’s a taiyaki cart in the corner. You buy a few pieces before making a turn, and that’s when you notice something that’s been bugging you since earlier.

When you make a turn around the block, you notice the same black car you’d been seeing since earlier make a turn as well. It’s only a hunch, but you proceed to move forward further into the street, before spinning your heels and going back into the same direction you came.

The car stops in its tracks. It attempts to make a u-turn at the intersection. 

Your hunch is correct. What the hell. You should have never made that remark about your boring life. Quickly, your eyes scan around for an alley you could disappear into, and there you find a narrow opening wedged in between a study cafe and a pharmacy. You push yourself forward before the car could finish its turn— yet the moment your soles stomp into the concealment of brick walls and dusty pavement, you hear the abrupt ringing of your name being called out.

The sound of the voice stirs a rush of nausea from the pits of your stomach. It’s familiar— yet unlike the fondness of seashores that Ricky brought with his, this voice carries the crowbar hitting the latch of all of your pent up emotions for the past decade. 

You’re greeted by the face of the man you’d used to see at every dinner, every gala. Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday emerging from your fathers now burnt down study. Every weekend when you’d come over to visit, asking how was your week with a kind, smiling expression.

“Mr Choi.”

How much more forceful reminiscing do you have to undergo this week? Quite frankly, you’re getting so fucking sick of it.

He repeats your name. The car is left on the road beside the sidewalk. He’d up and left just to talk to you in the middle of this dingy street. “Do you…have a few minutes to spare for a chat?” You bite your tongue. You turn around and ignore him, yet he knows exactly what to do to snag your attention. “I met your father earlier.”

And it clicks. It clicks so well that you can hear the sound echoing in the chambers of your brain. Your dad wore a suit for the first time in forever. His out of character texts to check on you. And here you have the person who ruined his life suddenly showing up for god knows what reason— and you know that if you ask your father, he wouldn’t tell you a single damn thing. You don’t think you can stomach it if your life gets fucked and flipped around again, right under your nose without your knowledge.

“For what?” you ask, voice firm. Mr Choi looks around first, eyes scanning the area before drawling out a hesitant response.

“Let’s…let’s talk in private.”

The next thing you know, you’re sitting in front of this bastard in the private booth of a restaurant your eyes failed to register the name of. There’s a full course meal sitting in front of you— sushi, salad, and a clear broth soup. The ice cubes are melting inside the juice. You feel sick to your stomach and a single bite might cause you to vomit on the spot.

Mr Choi has not touched his meal either. He’s finding his footing to start the conversation. “You should…you should try the soup. I’ve eaten here with my sons before. Do you remember them?” You don’t intend on making it easy for him. He clears his throat when you don’t grace him with a response. “I came looking for you and your father today because I’d like to sincerely apologize for what I’d done to you and your family, sweetheart.”

You hold back a scoff. This is ten years overdue, isn’t it?

“I was—I was blinded by my greed back then. I’m so sorry. Sihyuk had been giving me ideas that your father would eventually buy all of the company’s shares for himself and kick me out of the business, and that we needed to beat him to it before he could.” Mr Choi starts explaining, but to your ears, it’s nothing but listless prattles. “I know your father would never do that, but I was paranoid. And I assumed he’d have the capability to bring himself back on his feet anyway, but I didn’t expect things to turn for the worst when your house employees also turned their backs on you and started a fire on your property.”

“It’s all in the past, sir,” you hum, peeling off a piece of salmon from the platter, lifting it into the air before sending it straight to your tongue. It’s a hard swallow. “Besides, you wouldn’t have been able to treat me with this expensive meal if you didn’t do what you had to, right?”

You stare at him dead in the eye as he shifts uncomfortably. It’s unfortunate that you can’t snap a photo of his discomfort. Mr Choi clears his throat once more, his food still untouched, and tries to grab rein on the conversation yet again.

“I’m—I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I know nothing I could say here right now could grant my forgiveness. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make amends,” he starts. “I talked to your father earlier. I offered him a position at S&B, but he declined. Understandably so after what I’d done to him. Which is why I turned to you, instead. I thought I could maybe right my wrongs in a different way.”

“What? Are you dying soon, or something?” you scoff. “Are you trying to clean your resume for heaven before your time is up?” You catch Mr Choi’s jaw clench at your remark. What can you say? Your father is barely home from making deliveries around the clock at every house. You see your mother’s callouses every single day when she sets down the tray for your breakfast, even though you insist you can just buy something from the cafeteria on campus. And there’s this piece of shit thinking he can fix or undo everything with a sorry, with the throwing of his scraps— for the sake of his own guilty conscience.

It’s revolting. It’s pissing you the fuck off.

And yet here you are, in spite of your disgust and anger, you’re swayed by the temptation of a piece of juicy meat being dangled right in front of you.

“Can you get to the point, Mr Choi?” you say. “Do you want me to convince my father to take the offer?”

He releases a smile and a laugh. “I don’t think even you could get through to him, sweetheart.” As much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. You inherited your stubbornness from somewhere, after all. “But I don’t want to give up yet. I’m truly sorry for the consequences my actions had made. I have been made aware of your current living situation, and how you’ve been juggling multiple jobs just to ease the burden from your parents in paying the bills and your tuition.”

Your bones stiffen. You lock your attention on Mr Choi.

“You were correct when you said I just want to clear my conscience, even just a little,” he continues. “Let me pay for your tuition and offer you a place near your school to stay until you graduate.”

There’s a pulse in the air. You can hear it. You hear it clearly.

Mr Choi pulls something out of the inner pocket of his coat. He slides it down the table for you to see and receive.

“You don’t have to give an answer now.” It’s a business card. His number is on it. “But my line is always open once you’ve made up your mind, sweetheart. Please take the time to consider.”

줄다리기 / JULDARIGI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[multishipper001]

I don't see much discourse about Study Group, although it's an absolute masterpiece, so let's put some content out here!

1.) The characters

Oh my babies. Hats off to the author, because he really can make a diverse set of people! Each character has a fleshed out backstory, defined goals and ideals (that are shown to clash with others, be it enemies or allies).

They're all very-human like in some way, with just enough cliché to make it enjoyable but not predictable.

(spoiler for chapter 252-253: I didn't know what choices Gamin and especially Geonyeob would make until the very last moment. Geonyeob had two choices ahead of him, and it heavily determined his future and showed a glimpse of what kind of person he is, how far he's willing to go for revenge... It surprised me, but boy was it an interesting chapter!)

You can't help but root for each and every one of them, prepare to get emotionally attached to them all!!

2.) The plot

This part deserves its own category.

The synopsis tells the base of the story. A high school boy that forms a study group, with the goal to enter university.

Easy, right? Simple goal, one that can be achieved if you study hard, right?

THINK AGAIN

First of all, and this is not a spoiler, our mc SUCKS ASS at studying. Like I'm not the best at studying either but he's on a whole new level. He puts time into it, is dedicated, tries his hardest... And still can't.

(I read theories that he may have a disability that affects his studying, like dyslexia or something, and it's very much possible!)

He's in an environment where people don't expect him to study since he's bad anyway, and actively try and sabotage his every attempt to get better grades & enter uni.

(Sounds cliche and weird but it makes sense if you learn about the plot later)

Every new character comes into the plot because of the study group he forms —directly or not directly, but they get in contact with the study group in a way later on.

And you know what's good about it?

The main character DOESN'T CHANGE.

He's not going "I'm powerful and cool now, so I'll choose the easy way out/focus on fighting instead/aim lower/etc," NO.

He's had a goal since day 1, and he's clinging to it like a fucking LIFE LINE.

There are arcs ofc, but the main goal is set, and the characters are slowly marching forward, doing their best to reach it.

3.) Realism

One more great thing? NO CLICHÉS

I'm taking about the story here.

There's NO "the power of friendship saves the day", no "the evil villain gets defeated simply because he's the evil villain", no "mc gets what he wants easily because he's the main character".

(and no "every girl falls for mc and he builds a harem around himself bc he's the mc". There's barely any romance in it, and it's not forced or unrealistic)

There are forces in front of the main character which affect his story, yet he cannot fight them because he's still a child, or a student, or a part of a system that is made to oppress him. Corruption, manipulation, crimes... It's realistic in the best way, with no easy way out.

There are highs and lows for our characters, and for a few moments, after a cool fight where they won, you might fall into the mistake of thinking about this story like any other : "oh, they're going to win after all! They're the main characters, they'll make it! "

... Just for the issues of the plot to slap the naive thought out of your head not even a chapter later.

Corruption is rooted deep, and this story portrays it beautifully : how getting rid of one, two or several causes won't make it all disappear.

To what extent people can be controlled by money and power.

How the powerful uses the weak, how the wealthy use those below them for their own benefit.

How adults would rather destroy children's futures and lives just to squeeze a few penny out of them and get rich from their misery.

The main character is idealistic in a corrupted world, refusing to give up on what he thinks is right —where most people around him choose the easy way out and give up their beliefs, their present and future for quick cash, for promises of wealth and power.

He is their mirror, their proof that you can stay true to yourself and fight through your misery, even if it's hard, even if it seems absolutely hopeless.

There are many arcs, and each show different approaches to this, but this is the core essence of the story. That you can choose the easy road, but you don't have to. You can fight for your goals even if everyone says you'll fail.

And so many people can't see past the fight scenes and the "action manhwa" tag, thinking that if the story doesn't show them some peak badass mc-gets-what-he-wants-through-fighting moment, the whole thing is trash.

Yes, this is an action manhwa, with fights. But it isn't about fighting.

And lastly, honorable mentions to this gem:

4.) Portrayal of stereotypes

Best parts coming up!!

As usual, every story has stereotypes portrayed in them.

How men are stronger than women, how gangsters act or rich kids behave. How bullies and nerds interact.

They don't gloss over these stereotypes.

Women are physically smaller and weaker. Rich kids are assholes, bullies are cruel and victims are weak.

They don't make them magically gain courage, change their behaviour overnight OR make these things seem cool.

They make changes.

Step by step, they are influenced by each other (not just the mc, but other characters as well: they exist even when the mc isn't present). They're weak, and powerless, but they learn to be brave. They find a way to fight : maybe they don't become martial artists overnight, but each one of them develops their own method to survive in their fucked up life.

If they need to study better, they ask their friends and teacher for help. If they need to fight, they do so for the sake of protecting themselves and what is important to them : family, friends, a cause.

None of them are made as a gear to move the plot forward, they're their own characters. And they have clichés. They have stereotypical behaviours, and maybe even look stereotypical. But even so, they're not making it their only personality trait : they're complex, and flawed, and make mistakes.

And it's beautiful.

Oh god I love this story dearly.

[crushedcoffeecups]

rewatching Saiki K got me thinking again

what if his 'inner thoughts'/narration and commentary to the audience, were actually what he was saying to everyone else?

bear with me i swear i have a point

so we've established that Saiki doesn't speak out loud (aside from the couple exceptions, usually when he's caught off guard), he telepathically sends what he wants to say to whoever he wants to say it to, and creates the illusion that his mouth is moving. seems like more work than actually speak but whatever

i think this is quite often treated in headcanon and fanfic that he doesn't talk to anyone at all (obviously write and headcanon however you want to), but i always went under the assumption he does speak, just doesn't initiate conversation. there are definitely times where he's clearly speaking to someone, not just the audience, mainly when talking to his parents, but also definitely sometimes with friends too.

this then presents my headcanon, that whenever he has his witty commentary to the audience while another person is talking to him, he's talking to them too, and just doesn't care

it takes 'oh Saiki's a quiet kid who's secretly harbouring rage and annoyance at everyone around him' to 'Saiki is openly a jerk to everyone and talks about having powers a lot but they all just think he's joking and don't take notice of what he says'

which makes some of his lines a whole lot funnier if you consider he's deadpan saying it to their face

"are you a first grader?"

"wanna throw down, punk?" (one of my favourite lines)

"Girls are as plentiful as the stars in the sky, and equally as out of reach for you"

"so you're basically a fan blade now?"

"there's a harem cliche for you"

"wait... PURGE ME!"

"i know that butt."

"Are you a god?"

"I'd rather fall to my death than go on a date with you"

there's definitely more lines that refer to his powers and some funnier stuff, feel free to add on your favs!

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Note

Hey guys I just left college for winter break, so sorry if my daily posts have not been happening. Don't worry about it as I will catch up and I'm working on some special short fics and I will put a poll down if you guys would like a continuous fic and some ideas I've had.

Option 1: You wake up in a bed with no memories and a nun comes in to explain that you had complications with your health that made you lose your memories. You find out you are in a cute small town and everyone there is quite friendly, especially the head priest of the church. However, you start looking into the religion and find that one of the two gods they worshipped looked a whole lot like you. People go missing, you have strange dreams, and everyone seems to be hiding something. There will only be four love interests everyone else in the cult is platonic yanderes for you.

Option 2: You hated this one anime you watch with a long title like "I'm a loser geek and I was reincarnated as the Emperor with a Harem". It's so cliche with multiple gorgeous and talented women (and some men) falling in love with the main character. The main character in question is a painfully average looking with a rotten perverted and entitled personality. Unfortunately, on a plane flight to your home country the plane crashes killing you and everyone on the plane. You wake up in a world that is not your own as...a member of that fucking guy's harem. You refuse to remain in this humiliating spot and begin plotting for the throne. However, some harem members and outsiders begin to fall in love with feisty no nonsense you. Why does the Emperor seem to like you more when you hate his guts?

Option 3: You my darling are a parrot beast man (yes like the Sorcerer of Sand's precious companion) who was sent to Night Raven straight from the Scalding Sands in hopes of being the first in your family to graduate from the prestigious university. Unfortunately, you are not so pleased to be there because evil doesn't come naturally to you (it hurts your stomach and makes you molt like crazy). You are being initiated to Scarabia when a strange human with no magic and the pet flaming weasel catches your eye how fun! Too bad for you, you catch a lot of eyes yourself, including your own dorm mates.

Option 4: You are a regular salaryman until one day you receive news that your grandmother has passed. Her will requires you to take up the family trade to even see a lick of the inheritance. What is the trade? Hunting and killing cryptids, monsters, and any supernatural being that gets too comfortable with humans. Being short on dough makes you accept being trained by your grandmother's butler who served her faithfully (why is he so young?). You seem to have worse luck as some of the creatures you are sent out to hunt gain a dark and dangerous attraction towards you. Was the money worth it.

Round 1 of votes: GO!

[seellove]

Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Playing with Fire is Such a Cliche // (6.0k words) // 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 4 | << Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 >>

You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending

You were starting to fall into a routine in your new home, finally feeling settled and comfortable with your new life. You and Shoko would go to the cafeteria every morning, then walk to your classes together. Some days Geto and Gojo would join you both, but a lot of times they were away on missions. 

You and Sukuna would meet up to work on your project some nights along with homework from your shared classes. He was often away as well, so you’d make the most of the time together to divide the workload. This caused his harem of fan girls to give you angry looks at times, in their eyes you were taking him away from their time with him. As if you had any say in this, you two had been partnered up against both your wills.

You had been cleared to go back to your combat sessions a few weeks after your hospital stay. That afternoon you and Shoko make your way to the training grounds after lunch. She is complaining about the chemistry test you had just gotten grades back on. 

“I don’t even know why we need to learn this shit if we are just going to be sorcerers,” she groans. 

“If you want to be a jujutsu doctor, chemistry is important to know!” you tease back. She pushes you jokingly in response. You both take a seat in the bleachers, continuing to bicker as friends do.

“Alright partner, I'm ready when you are,” you jump as you hear Sukunas deep voice behind you. Where the hell did he come from?

“What’s up stranger,” you respond. To his annoyance you’d been referring to him as that since the day you started the history project. You took great pride in annoying him, pissing him off greatly when you made fun of him instead of matching his angry energy. Seeing him get all butthurt was entertaining and worth it though.

“She just got back to normal, don’t go being a hard ass again,” Shoko growls at him. 

“Relax, she’ll be fine,” he waves her off. He leaps off the bleachers and stands beside you as you finish lacing your shoes. He leads the way to the far corner of the training grounds near the forest. 

“Can you hold my water bottle for a second, I need to put my hair up,” you say as you walk together. He puts his hand out to take the bottle while you pull your hair up into a messy bun. 

“How’d you do on the test?” he breaks the silence.

“Got an 88, I made some silly mistakes.”

“Ha I beat you this time, 97.”

Your competitive side causes you to respond with an annoyed huff, but deep down you aren’t mad. He’s smart so if there’s someone you’d rather lose to, it was him. All the more reason to do better next time. 

“Gonna have to try harder next time sweetheart,” he teases you, throwing your bottle back at you unexpectedly. 

“Excuse me? Sweetheart?” your voice rises as you throw the bottle back at him, making him leap to the side to avoid the projectile. 

“I said what I said,” he turns around and walks backwards, tauntingly looking at you with his hands behind his head. “Also I’m not getting that,” he gestures towards the bottle now laying out in the field.

“God you are so annoying,” you stomp away to retrieve your water.

“You flatter me so much, thinking I’m a god now,” he chuckles.

You look at him and shake your head, but you can’t help emitting a giggle of your own, trying to fight back a smile. You make your way back over to him. 

“Let’s sit,” he states as he lowers himself to the grass, patting the ground next to him. You follow suit, adjusting yourself to face him. “What kind of training have you had with cursed energy?”

You take a moment to think. You hadn’t been able to detect or manipulate it until the spring of this year. You realized it when you were walking home from school one day and saw a terrifying creature that it seemed no one else could see. You had freaked out, tearing up a sidewalk in the process of it all. After telling your dad, he showed you how to sense it in the earth and push it through voids, but you didn’t truly know how it all worked. 

You explain this to Sukuna who has a very serious expression on his face, absorbing every word of your explanation. 

He shifts to rest his elbow on his knee, his face leaning into his palm. “Hmm, I see. Well the first goal I have for you is to incorporate your cursed energy into your martial arts. But to do that, you need to master distributing it throughout your body.”

He holds up his hand in front of you. “Put your hand against mine.”

You press your palm against his, noticing the huge size difference between you and him. His fingers could fold over yours if he wanted. Suddenly you sense heat in his palm and feel it coursing through his fingers, almost like water being sucked through a tube. 

“You’re controlling this all on your own?” you ask in awe. 

“Yes, I'm taking the source of my energy in my chest and directing it to my hand. Think of it as a pump, pushing the energy through the voids in your body to where you need it. You can use this to enhance physical moves like punching and kicking. It’s the simplest way of using cursed energy for combat,” he explains. 

“First I want you to focus on your chest, I want you to become aware of the source, actually recognize how it feels when it flows through your chest and surrounding areas. I can sense where it is in your body, so I’ll help you feel it out.”

You close your eyes and focus your senses inward, trying to feel a glimpse of the heat you felt in Sukuna’s hand. You think you feel it, it reminds you of being in the shower, feeling water run over your skin except it feels like it's flowing under your skin. 

“I think I feel it, it feels like water flowing inside of me, like a whirlpool in my chest.” 

“Point to me where you feel it.”

You point to a spot just below your breast between your ribs.

“Yep, I can sense it there. Now try to direct it to your stomach area, it should be a combination of pushing it from your chest while pulling it to your stomach. Think of it like a combination of a pump and a siphon.”

You struggle to do this, feeling like the energy is just ricocheting off your ribs and surrounding area. It gives you a feeling like heartburn.

Sukuna can sense your energy beating up your innards. “Stop for a moment, let me demonstrate,” he says shortly as he suddenly pulls his shirt off and tosses it on the ground. 

You have been trying to take this seriously, but you are a woman who appreciates a sculpted man at the end of the day, and boy was there one right in front of you. Tattoos emerge from his shoulders and wind over his chest down to his waist, disappearing to what lies below. His muscular chest and rippling abs accentuate them even more, the sharp ridges making your core clench for a second. Chiseled V lines disappear into the waistband of his pants which are dangerously low on his hips. 

Oh lord, he’s fucking hot, because of course he is. You can’t deny this as you feel your body flush and swallow deeply, trying to ground yourself. 

“As much as I appreciate you eye fucking me right now, I do actually want to finish this lesson,” he laughs smugly. He abruptly reaches for your hand, yanking it towards him and placing it on his chest. You feel light headed, forgetting to breathe momentarily, the world almost dimming around your peripheral.

Pull yourself together dammit. How could you expect to be a decent sorcerer if you are so easily weak in the knees. 

You feel his rock hard body below your hand, but you also can sense the swirling heat inside. It feels very controlled though, unlike the chaos you felt within you. Your heart is pounding, can he hear it? Can he feel it through your hand? 

“You feel that right?” he snaps you back to reality.

“Ye-yes, I can feel it flowing, counterclockwise?”

“Correct,” he moves your hand to his upper abs now. You are convinced you are going to just die right here, you are going to stop breathing altogether and just forget to replenish the oxygen. You can feel the energy flowing down his body towards his stomach, sensing a sucking motion pulling the energy down while his chest pulses, pushing the heat south.

“Oh I do feel it,” you murmur, concentrating on the feeling. “I think I can do that-“

“What the fuck are you all doing??” a shrieking voice jolts you out of your trance, startling you. “Get your hands off of him you whore.”

You turn to the side and see a girl in all black and black hair storming towards you both. Her face is contorted in anger, the rage emanating off her in waves. 

“It’s not what it looks like! I was trying to feel his energy, wait, are you his girlfriend? I’m so sorry!” you stumble over your words, putting your hands at your side and jumping away from Sukuna. 

“No Yorozu is absolutely not my girlfriend, just a girl I fuck,” his voice dripping in anger and disgust as he side eyes her. 

“Don’t you dare!” Yorozu yells back, “we are exclusive, you said so the other night.”

“Psh, and you believed that?” he responds in a mocking tone. 

“What is this about being exclusive with her,” another voice yells from behind you. It’s Kiko, the blond you recognized from your first day. “And why did you have your filthy hands all over him?” She points at you, her eyes shooting daggers. 

What the actual fuck, you think to yourself. You did not want to get in the middle of whatever this is. 

“I’m just trying to learn about cursed energy, I don’t want anything to do with Sukuna in that way,” you shout at them, trying to make yourself heard.

“Please, I’m already aware you are nothing to him,” Kiko harshly says to you. “Yorozu, quit being a homewrecker.”

“I’ll be over here practicing,” you look at Sukuna, not bothering to wait for a response, your main goal to get the fuck away from this love triangle. You move closer to the trees, intent on practicing channeling the cursed energy through your body, using your hands as a guide similar to what you and Sukuna were doing. 

You can’t help but overhear Yorozu, Kiko, and Sukuna arguing. Well it was more so the girls shouting over each other with Sukuna just standing there with his hands in his pockets. What was so special about him that had these girls acting insane over him, especially when he seemed to treat them poorly. Must have out of this world dick game, you laugh to yourself. 

You feel yourself succeeding with your practice when you see Sukuna reappear, now alone, and no longer shirtless. He doesn’t say anything, just observes you. You can now get cursed energy to flow controlled into your hands and to your waistline. You are tired though, not realizing how it takes a toll on you both mentally and physically. 

“Why don’t you take a break,” he finally breaks the silence. You nod and join him as he sits on the ground, obviously moody now. He fidgets with the grass, twisting his finger around and ripping blades out of the ground. 

“You sure do have a way with the ladies,” you tease him. “One girlfriend is hard enough, let alone two.” 

He smirks, still staring at the grass, “I’m not committed to anyone, I make that very clear to them and anyone I sleep with.” 

Your mind wanders, imagining him sleeping with multiple girls, surely there are more than just these two. “Do you like one more than the other?”

“I don’t like either of them. They fulfill a need and that’s it. If they disappeared tomorrow I wouldn’t care,” he bluntly responds. 

You are taken aback by the harshness. You know that’s just how some guys are, but it’s different hearing it said out loud. “Do you think you’ll ever find someone you would want to be committed to?” 

“I guess eventually, I have never really considered it. I have a certain standard of what I’d want in a partner, sex is just one facet of that, important but not that high on the list.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in response. “Well what I was going to say was that I am not trying to insert myself into…whatever that all was, I value you as a friend and mentor, and am not trying to negatively affect your love life. But I guess it's not very much reciprocated by you,” you chuckle.

He perks up at your words, “Oh, have I graduated from being a stranger?” 

You laugh as you return his gaze. “Yeah I think you have, I’ll get you a cap and gown. Might not fit on your massive ass head though.”

He crinkles his brow in annoyance at your comment as he stands up, holding out his hands as a signal to pull you up. 

“Food?”

“Yes please!” 

***

You and Sukuna have never done anything that isn’t school related alone together. You recognized and valued his intelligence, so you preferred to do school work together. While chatting happened, it was usually short lived to focus on the task at hand whether it be studying, tag teaming homework assignments, or working on your group projects. Most interactions consisted of him making rude jabs at you while you would mock and tease him much to his annoyance. 

There was a sense of comfort though when you were around him. Like you knew what you were getting and you didn’t need to worry about his intentions. His bluntness was refreshing in a way compared to your previous school where someone could get along with you one day but hate you the next, for no apparent reason.

Eating together however was a new activity. It didn’t constrain the conversation, there were no math problems or cursed energy manipulation to hide behind. You two would either converse, or sit in silence. How and what you talked about would be up to you and Sukuna. 

You weren’t embarrassed to be seen with him, it was no secret to your friends that you two would work together, and he was your combat partner after all. Shoko would egg you on about becoming his next fangirl, but you would shut it down by saying you were friends with a common goal, and nothing more. 

Sukuna and you drop your bags off in your rooms and make your way to the dining hall. You see him texting on his phone, a twinge of annoyance on his face. That’s nothing out of the ordinary for him though. His face might permanently be that way with the consistent scowl he seemed to display.

He speeds through the line, already knowing what he wants to eat while you linger longer to scope out the options. 

“I’m going sit, don’t take too long,” he says gruffly as you wave him off. You decide on a chicken salad with a side of fish and rice. You definitely eat a lot more here compared to the past, as using cursed energy wrecks your body. Scanning the room, you spot the top of his pink head and neck tattoos peeking out of his shirt.

Placing your tray across from him, you go to grab a drink. You love the selection of fruit sodas and decide on a peach flavor today. 

Sukuna makes a face as you place the drink down, “you would drink that.”

“What does that even mean Sukuna? Hating on random drinks now?”

“Yeah I am, that shit is trash.”

You take a big gulp and let out a dramatic sigh, “well good thing you don’t have to drink it. Just drink your milk like a child.”

“Milk is not childish, brat. It builds strong bones. Maybe you should drink more of it considering you broke your hand on my face.” 

“Tch,” you roll your eyes, not giving a response. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Sukuna abruptly changes the topic.

“Yes, I have a younger brother and sister. They are elementary school age. What about you?” 

“I have a younger brother, different dads though.”

Swallowing a spoonful of rice, his words perk your interest. 

“Oh what’s your brother like?” you question, being nosey now. It's the first you’ve ever heard about his personal life.

He points across the room to a table with a black haired boy and brunette girl with a bob. “Those are his friends, not sure where he is now, but he has pink hair like me. He’s a first year student.” 

“Oh cool, that must be nice for him to have an older sibling here.”

“Psh he’s too soft. Needs to toughen up if he wants to be a good sorcerer.”

“You can be a good sorcerer and not be an asshole,” you retort. 

“It’s better to not have feelings and attachments though. Makes it easier to focus on your goals without stupid distractions.” 

“So what are your goals?”

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Well I do have goals that are personal to myself, but what I can share is that I want to be the strongest, a master in understanding and wielding cursed energy.” 

Your eyes widen a little. “Goals personal to you huh? What does that mean?”

“It means you don’t need to know the details,” he snaps back. 

His vague answers leave you feeling a little uneasy, but you decide to let it go for now. “Are your parents sorcerers?”

“My dad is. He taught me everything and has been training me since before I can remember.” 

“Sounds like a tough childhood. I spent most of my time just playing sports, exploring the neighborhood with friends, typical kid things.”

“Sounds incredibly lame,” He says dryly, looking bored. 

“What do you do for fun that doesn’t revolve around jujutsu?”

“Well I do like video games, reading, watching food shows and trying new foods, fucking-“

You practically spit out your drink at his vulgar answer. He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his eye, “what’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You feel your face flush. You’ve never done more than kissing and feeling up with your ex, and you would not be able to handle having a conversation like this with Sukuna of all people. 

“I think it’s fine, just not something I expect to hear in a conversation in the cafeteria. Are you just trying to get a rise out of me?”  

“Maybe, it seems to be working. So who are you fucking around here?” He challenges you, placing one elbow on the table and resting his head on it. He seems very engaged in the conversation now, reveling in your discomfort.

Shit what should you say? You know next to nothing about sex, so he’ll know if you’re lying, but you don’t want to give him a reason to ridicule you. Fuck it, you’ll be honest, if he makes fun of you for it, that’s his problem. You are a grown woman and confident in your choices after all. 

“Nobody, doesn’t really align with my goals right now,” you meet his gaze, awaiting his response. 

His grin cocks to one side, nodding his head slightly, “hmph, interesting.” 

You are shocked he doesn’t push the issue, “that’s all you have to say? I was expecting something more on brand from you.”

“I respect your convictions, even if they might not be for me,” he shrugs. 

“Well thanks for not roasting me for once,” you laugh. 

“I’m sure I’ll make up for it later,” he says with a mischievous look. 

You both finish eating and linger for a little longer, engaged in a heated debate on the best super smash bros character.

“Well we will just have to put it to the test and play with each other sometime,” you laugh. 

“Sometimes there are tournaments in the dorm common area,” he says.

“Oh so you want to lose in front of a crowd?”

“Please brat, being delusional isn’t a good look.”

***

A week passes and you can now consistently control your cursed energy throughout your body.

“Let’s try some sparring now,” Sukuna announces to you as you sit on the ground. He’s looming over you, his massive figure shielding you from the sun.

“Okay don’t send me to the hospital again,” you retort, only half kidding.

“I’m not going to do that, can you all just let it go?” he snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“No I can’t, you literally broke my ribs and punctured my lung.” 

“Quit whining brat, you got over it.”

You stand up now and look at him expectantly, awaiting further instruction. “Ok so how are we doing this?”

“You come at me like you while channeling cursed energy into your blows. I’ll block and dodge only. Oh, and come at me with the intent to kill, it’s the only way you’ll stand a chance,” he grins as he bends his legs, standing on the balls of his feet.

“So confident aren’t you,” you roll your eyes at him. You start to walk away from him, creating some distance. 

“Yeah I am, you have no idea what I’m capable of,” he says coldly. You briefly wonder what he means by that, feeling a little intimidated, but you quickly come back to the task at hand. All you can do is trust him to not hurt you again.

You channel cursed energy into your feet, propelling yourself at him at increased speed. You wind up, powering up your fist, and swing at Sukuna. He lifts his hand up, letting his palm absorb the impact. He makes a face, brows lifting in surprise. 

“Damn that was a nice one, more like that,” he looks on excitedly, lips curling into a smile. 

“Can I use my technique,” you ask as you attempt to swing a kick at his lower legs, your hands planted on the ground as you lash out towards him. He jumps over the move and you quickly deliver a blow to his stomach, catching him off guard. 

“Yes, I said to come at me to kill.” He rubs his stomach after the impact from your hit. You felt him move cursed energy to that spot just before impact to block the hit.

You channel energy to your hands and quickly push it through the earth, trying to grab onto his feet. You notice it feels a lot easier now, as it’s similar to pushing the energy through your body. 

You quickly continue sending cursed energy through the earth as you sprint at him again. You both spar with hand to hand combat, Sukuna dodging and blocking all hits, not trying to land any on you. You pull the cursed energy towards you that you sent into the earth and lock onto his feet, immobilizing him enough to land a kick on his shins, releasing him from your technique.

He hisses through his teeth at the impact, not able to hide that you did cause a bit of pain. You continue your sparring until you wave the white flag, flopping onto the ground in exhaustion and a slight headache from all the cursed energy manipulation. 

Sukuna stands over you, not even breaking a sweat. He drops your water bottle next to you and sits down at your side.

“I think you are ready for missions,” he announces to you. 

“Oh I forgot about that,” you stare wide eyed as fear settles over you. 

“Yeah, you have to apply what you learn brat. Combat students are supposed to take support students on 2 to 3 missions a month. They are for very low grade curses though, nothing to worry about. Plus I’ll be there.”

“What grade are you?” you question him. You hadn’t actually seen him try very hard yet.

“Grade 1. I’m the strongest, brat, believe me. I won’t let anything happen to you,” you see his eyes soften and you know he means it. You relax a little. 

“When do we go?”

“Probably tomorrow,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Tomorrow??” you exclaim, “that’s like no notice.”

He chuckles and crosses his arms, “Do you think curses just wait to appear when it’s convenient for you?”

“Shut up no that’s not what I meant,” you huff as he looks at you, amusement in his eyes. 

He begins walking away from you back towards the campus buildings. You rush to catch up, falling into step with him. 

“What do I need to do to prepare for the mission?” 

“You’ll need an overnight bag for sure. Other than that you don’t really need to do anything. We will get driven to the site and we just get out the car and exorcise the curses. Then the driver will take us to a hotel or inn for the night, then we come back the following day.” 

“Do we all get separate rooms,” you blush at the idea of sharing a room with Sukuna.

He snickers at your question, “yes we will be in separate rooms. Nothing is stopping you from letting me in yours and vice versa.”

“Ha ha good to know,” you laugh fakely. That doesn’t last long though as you find yourself face first in the dirt after Sukuna trips you.

“Watch your step brat,” he has his hand over his mouth trying to suppress his laughter. 

“You are insufferable,” you yell at him. Thankfully you two are the last ones out here, so no embarrassing moments for the whole class to see. 

He keeps walking and stops to wait for you against a tall decorative brick wall that lines the walkway back to the campus. Dusk is rapidly approaching with the days getting shorter. Crickets had begun to chirp, signaling the sun going down. 

You catch up to him again and find him leaning against the wall. You stop in front of him, waiting for him to keep walking. Instead he licks his thumb and presses it against your cheek. “Got some dirt on you here,” he teases.

“Hmm wonder how that happened,” you try to wince away, but his fingers squeeze your cheek, not letting you move.

He rubs small circles on your cheek. They become gentler and you feel the backs of his fingers graze along your jawbone, trailing along your skin until they stop to rest on the back of your neck. Your breath hitches and goosebumps run down your arms at his touch. Your eyes dart around nervously as his fingertips push down firmly on the back of your neck, beckoning you closer to him. You can smell his cologne mixed with musk, a result of you both sparring for hours. He moves his hands to rest on your hips, guiding you so now your back is now against the wall, the sharp points of the brick digging into your spine. 

Your heart is racing now, feeling like it is going to spring out of your chest. Your lips part slightly as you look up at him, he looks ethereal in the dim light. The glow of his eyes give him the look of a predator looking down at his prey. 

Sukuna leans one hand against the wall above your shoulder as he lowers himself to your face. His eyes are half lidded and their usual blazing red begins to darken. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pulling your body flush with his.

His face hovers in front of yours and it feels like an eternity. You want to close the gap between you, but you hesitate as nervousness sets in. Your eyes look down at his lips, then back up to his gaze. They are gorgeous, morphing into a deep red like hot coals as the tension intensifies.

Fuck it, you finally decide. You loosen your jaw and close the distance between you, your lips landing on his. Your mouth doesn’t move at first, body practically in shock at what you just did. The world is suspended temporarily as you dissociate from yourself, a dizzy feeling starting to consume you. You slowly start to regain feeling in your body, noticing his soft lips, the harsh grip on your hips, and the soft brush of his nose against yours. His lips are softer than you expected given his rough demeanor.

Sukuna’s tongue runs along your bottom lip, which causes you to part yours in surprise. He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, meeting yours as he groans into your mouth. Your noses brush against each other clumsily as you figure out each other's rhythm. 

He nibbles at your lip, coaxing your tongue back into his mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, threading your fingers through his fluffy hair. He tilts his head, allowing you to probe deeper into his mouth, exploring the inside of his cheek as he rolls his tongue against yours. He hums, lowering his hands to grip your ass, pushing his body against yours until you are pinned against the wall. You can hear nothing but the symphony of crickets in the twilight and the wet sounds of his lips on yours. 

You break the kiss, desperate for air, making a popping sound as your lips disconnect from his. Your breaths come in gasps as you try to steady your breathing again, coming back down from your high. He presses his forehead against yours, eagerly awaiting your lips on his again. 

“You kissed me,” you say in a bewildered voice. You almost can’t believe it. It’s something you truly never thought would happen, even though you have fantasized about doing worse with him before. 

He smirks at you with lidded eyes, his voice a low rumble, “technically you kissed me brat.”

“Whatever.” You attack his lips again with more force than the last. He matches your energy with a hunger you weren’t expecting, forcing himself back into your mouth, finding the insides of your teeth and sucking your tongue, eliciting a sharp moan from you. You push your hands beneath his shirt, hands running along his abs. The ridges and dips of his muscles are apparent, squeezing them with your nails as you grasp onto him, attempting to ground yourself. 

You can feel him hard against you, throbbing with your every moan he captures in his mouth, clearly enjoying this just as much as you. He pulls back this time, staring deeply into your eyes. His crimson gaze is intense with hunger, almost like he could devour you on the spot. You blush profusely, and emit an awkward giggle.  

“Did you like that?” Sukuna’s husky voice asks as he tries to not so discreetly adjust himself in his pants. 

“Mhmm yes, you’re a good kisser,” you stumble over your words. Why would you say he’s a good kisser? You cringe realizing your brain short circuited in its recovery from the intimate moment.

“Hmph,” he hums, feeling smug. You both tidy up your clothes and hair, attempting to hide the evidence of the heated make out session you had just partaken in. 

He leads you back to the dorms in silence, both of you not daring to speak as he walks you to your room. “I’ll text you the info for the mission either tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“Ok sounds good,” you unlock your door and push it open. You look back at him, your eyes locking with his longing gaze, “good night Sukuna.”

He swallows hard as he stares back at you, his mouth forming a tight line, “night.”

You close the door as he walks away, the mirror on the wall revealing a massive grin plastered on your face. He’s an asshole. A hot asshole who wanted his tongue down your throat. Probably a one time thing, but then again, playing with fire is such a cliche when you’re willing to get burned.

Sukuna POV

I make a beeline back to my room, trying to hide the bulge in my pants I’d failed miserably at subduing. My pants are so damn uncomfortable, constricting my cock which is desperate to be freed. I fumble for my keys and finally unlock the door, slamming it behind me. I know if I don’t take care of this I won’t be able to focus the rest of the evening.

Entering the bathroom, I turn the shower on to warm up the water and strip my clothes off. My hand immediately palms the thick head of my cock and as I groan with relief at the friction I was so desperate for. What am I even doing? So gone off of a kiss and nothing more.

It was so hard to stop with you earlier, I wanted to take you against that wall and fuck you senseless. I step into the shower and lean against the wall, water running in rivulets over the contours of my muscles. Stroking my full length now, my mind goes back to you and that wall. Pre cum spills from my thick tip, giving me extra slick to pump my shaft. The image of holding you up, legs locked around my waist as I drill into you, stuttering my name between moans has my dick throbbing as I imagine burying it inside you again and again.

My grip tightens around my shaft, pumping faster now as you shatter beneath me, your walls gripping me so snugly. I lean my head back against the shower wall, my hand sliding up and down my hardened length with urgency as I feel the orgasm looming. The final image of you crying my name as I fuck you through your climax pushes me over the edge. I groan loudly, eyes shut tight and body tensing up as spurts of cum begin to coat the wall of the shower. 

As the waves of pleasure finally cease, I open my eyes and sink to the floor, not caring that the water is now pelting me in the face. Allowing myself a few minutes to come back to earth, I can’t recall the last time I came so hard from jerking off. Finally I stand back up and quickly finish washing my hair and body. 

I stride across the room to my computer to check mission assignments. As a grade 1 sorcerer, I check the website multiple times a day to see if anything perks my interest. This time though, I filter by low grade assignments for your first mission. 

An abandoned home in a neighborhood 3 hours away is reportedly haunted according to kids breaking in. Grade 4 max. Sounds perfect for you. I mark it taken and type both of our names in, noting it as support training. Looks like the driver will pick up at 9 AM tomorrow. 

Me: we leave at 9AM tomorrow. Plan to eat before we leave. I’ll meet you out front beforehand.

You: Okay sounds good. Anything specific to pack?

Me: a change of clothes for afterwards is a good idea, fighting curses can be messy. 

You: got it. Well cya tomorrow, have a good night! 

I close the computer and flop onto the bed, a twinge of excitement coming over me. I honestly can’t remember the last time I kissed someone and that was it, but for some reason I can’t get it out of my head now. I get back up and fish out the half open bottle of whiskey from under my bed. Hopefully that can help calm me down and get some rest.

<< Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 >>

Masterlist

[sakiyaki-sashimi]

OH EM GEE ASKING QUESTIONS!!

Let’s see uhm.. favorite cliche trope? (Bout to spam your ask box for a hot moment, disregard my oddities..)

HIIIII SORRY I DIDNT ANSWER THIS I WAS WORKING ON THE NEW INTRO!!!!

Gahhhh this is so embarrassing… I LOVE LOVE TRIANGLES!!! And I love harem anime’s and ik they’re bad but just “which boy should I pick?” “Do I date the girl next door or the new girl?” Are just so cutesy and classic and I love themmmmm

[feotakahari]

All-female Phantom Thieves is an okay idea, but I feel like Ryuji is an important part of the team. My proposal: the Metaverse turns you into a girl. “What the eff?”

Catgirl Morgana is already a fandom cliche. No further adjustments there.

Ann’s teasing is relentless, but this may or may not lead into her teaching real-world Ryuji about makeup.

Yusuke doesn’t notice the change until it’s pointed out to her.

Goro is somehow still male, and no one can figure out how. He says he thought that was normal. Then he lets out Loki and turns female, because Robin Hood was just another mask.

Fake!Igor is creepier than ever, and vaguely horny in a deniable faux-dignified way. Turns out Yaldabaoth wants to be a maledom with a harem. In the final battle, this revelation gets him simultaneously burned, nuked, electrocuted, grenaded, and barraged with cutting winds. (Yusuke is too baffled to be offended.)

[desktopdinosaur]

Heyo! I've been following you for a while now and I've been meaning to ask: why'd you fall for SwapFell!Papyrus out of ALL Papyri/UT skeletons specifically?

Ooooo I’ve waited for someone to ask this, mostly so I can just ramble cuz I love rambling But there isn’t just one reason, so I’ll list em out

1. He’s the combination of swap papyrus and fell sans, basically meshing two hot people to make an even hotter version-

2. The amount of fanfics I’ve read where he is the most sexiest of the bunch is too many. Which is a bit funny since he’s only in harem fics and despite all the “competition” he still stood out

3. A bit of a contradicting statement but he’s a bit of a blank canvas character, I’ve seen lots of different portrayals of swapfell papyrus. Ya know, the meek shy one, the asshole, the flirty one. Etc. so I’ve basically moulded him into fulfilling all my romantic fantasies! Really fulfilling 12 year old me desire for a cliche edgy bad boy haha

Not to say I don’t like the other papyri or sanses, I really do like them a lot- I’m just obsessed with rus! Hell, I’ll give you my rankings

1. SF papyrus

2. UF sans

3. US papyrus

4. SF sans

5. UT sans

6. UF papyrus

7. US sans

8. UT papyrus