#i had to make it angst because of course i did

[chleem]

Is it casual now?/extra II

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff, angst,

Warnings: swearing, sex, light read, etc

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

⋆.˚ official one shot, extra I

♡⸝⸝ "fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Where you going?”

You ask, as Drew stands up. The warmth of his hands caressing your thighs is gone, now running through his hair. “Bathroom,” he mumbles, barely meeting your eyes. He walks off, without another glance back at the table. 

His sour mood is evident, by not only you, but all of your friends. 

To be fair, he didn’t even want to come tonight. He pleaded desperately for you to stay in with him, offering things to you that was ridiculous. Such as, doing your laundry for a month (he doesn’t even do his own). 

But you haven’t hung out with all your friends in a long time, and you missed them. So, tonight was non-negotiable with Drew. 

And he gave up with trying to reason with you, hence, why he decided to join you here, at the nice restaurant. He didn’t even make an effort to engage nicely with them, chuckling under his breath at random times and answering questions with short answers. Whenever you were talking, he would purposely distract you by touching you under the table, making it awkward for you and your friends. 

Drew knows your friends don’t like him; that’s why he’s sour. That’s also why he shows up to these hangouts, just to rub it in their faces. 

“Why did you invite him?” Lucy groans, after Drew was out of eye sight. Your five other friends of this group nod too, all letting out groans of frustration. “Hello, earth to y/n, we. Don’t. Like. Him.”

“He insisted on joining,” you shrug, forcing a smile. 

“Um, you could’ve insisted on him not joining,” Janet, another friend adds on. 

Your friend group was filled with weird people with different opinions, but one thing they’ve collectively agreed on was: they hate Drew. ‘Hate’ is a strong word, but that was the only way to describe their feelings towards Drew. 

They’ve expressed it a lot of times, so it’s become numb to you. 

“Are you guys finally together though?” Gary asks, sitting beside you. 

Oh. Every time they see you, they ask this question. 

“Of course not,” Lucy answers for you, sending you a cocky grin. One you always disliked, because it made you feel small. “Classmates, huh?”

“A really bad label,” Stacy adds on. Yeah, as if you didn’t already know. 

Great. Now it’s just your whole friend group judging you for being with Drew. Again. The last thing you needed from them.

“I visited his parents,” you aggressively say, stabbing into your food. Hopefully that will convince them Drew is a better person that what they think, right?

Wrong. They all ‘tsk’ in a disappointed manner, shaking their heads. “And…still classmates?”

“Well, he said I was his best friend,” you stuff the food in your mouth, “To his family.”

“He probably had to,” Josh speaks up this time, “and wow, is that the first time he called you his friend?” 

You don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, and you send him a glare. He raises his hands in defense, the table laughs. 

You don’t find the humor in this situation. Why were they so judgmental towards the relationship with Drew? It’s not like he’s the biggest jackass ever. You’ve seen every side there is to Drew, they just don’t know him like you do. “Can you guys cut it off?” You say, not trying to hide the annoyance in your voice. 

“We’re just joking,” Janet laughs, glancing around, “besides, we’re worried for you.”

You chew and swallow the food in your mouth, sending her an unappreciative smile, “‘worried’ for me?”

“Yes, he’s obviously not… well, in love with you,” Janet continues, “we don’t want you with someone who clearly doesn’t care for you.”

“He cares for me,” you defend, furrowing your eyebrows at them. You look around the table, seeing your friends glance down at their food, afraid to meet your eyes. “He cares for me.”

“Sure he does,” Stacy bitterly agrees with you. That tone pisses you off. “Maybe privately, he does, but what about in public? Starting off with the most basic, labels.”

You hate how right your friends are. As rude and mean they’re being, deep down, you know they’re right. The ‘no attachments’ thing is bullshit, especially when nothing about the two of you is casual. 

Five, no close to six months, nothing about that is causal. 

“That…doesn’t matter,” you murmur. Wrong; it mattered a lot, to everyone and to you. You just hated to admit you weren’t as chill or casual as Drew was, how he made everything romantic seem friendly with you. 

When you look around, everyone is now staring at you pitifully. 

You didn’t like that. That pity stare. There’s nothing to be pity of. Bunch of people around the world right now might be having situation-ships too. Nothing to pity. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Yeah. That’s what you keep brainwashing yourself to believe. 

‘The girl that he bangs on his couch’. Yeah. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Your phone on the table lights up, and it reads bathroom. now. 

Drew. “Um, excuse me,” you stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

As you slowly get up and walk away, your friends weren’t very careful with the volume of their voice. You hear one of them calling you a loser, still hanging around just for a good dick to suck. 

That must be Janet. Her lonely ass must be jealous. 

But part of you knew she wasn’t wrong. You were a loser. The biggest loser to exist. The loser of losers, if that even is a thing. 

Casual. Your friends succeeded once again, in making you doubt everything with Drew. 

——

“Really boring, right?”

Drew pulls you in by the waist, a lazy smile on his lips as he stares down at you. He leans against the sink, making you stand between his legs. 

This restaurant had two bathrooms, each with their own sink inside. So, Drew took full advantage of that. 

“Hmm,” you hum carelessly. You didn’t want agree with him; you tried to make this evening nice, but his attitude towards your friends just weren’t helping. You keep your gaze around the collar of his jacket, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, playfulness still hinted in his words. His hand rub circles around your waist, as he tries to make eye contact with you, bending his head down to your level. 

You advert your gaze even more, now focusing on the bracelet around his wrist. Now that you think about it, he always has this on, since the day you got it for him. 

Was that casual to do? To keep the bracelet on at all times. 

“Look at me, would you?” Drew’s tone turns serious, and he pinches the side of your waist harshly.

You flinch, finally looking up at him. You meet his blue eyes, a mix of concern and something else that you can’t read. His raised eyebrows tell you that he wants you to talk, to tell him what’s on your mind. 

Should you? But, where do you even start? With his attitude tonight, or with your friend’s comments? Or with this whole casual thing, which is basically the beginning to it all.

Your lips pout on its own, resting your hands around his wrist. “That was uncalled for,” you murmur, looking down at his bracelet again. 

“What was?” Drew’s pinch one your waist is more soft this time, wanting to get the words out of you. 

“Doing that,” you say, playing with his chained bracelet. Shit. You’re gonna say it. You’re gonna call him out for his behavior. “Being rude to my friends.”

A scoff escapes Drew. He then brings his hand up to your face, forcing you to look up at him. Like second nature, you lean your face into the palm of his hand, waiting for him to explain himself. “Babe, your friends were the rude ones.”

The feeling inside your stomach is indescribable. The nickname sends you butterflies, but the words that follow don't. 

“How?” You ask, crossing your arms.  

He licks his lips, squinting his eyes at you. “It was so fucking obvious.”

“Was it?” 

“Yes- yes, it was,” Drew straightens his posture, taking his hands off you. The warmth of him is gone, now with the presence of a man trying to explain his reasonable case of being bratty. “They asked loaded questions to me this whole night.”

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking hard to the stuff they asked Drew. Shit. They were. Your friends didn’t even trying to hide their discontent with him tonight. 

“They hate me,” he adds on, “C’mon, I leave the table for like, a few minutes, and they talked shit, right?”

The way he looks at you; he challenges you to disagree with him. But you couldn’t; he was right. Your friends hate him, making you constantly doubt whatever this was with Drew. 

“Wasn’t all shit,” you lie, sending him the smallest smile ever. 

Drew makes the ‘tsk’ sound, shaking his head as he gives you a tired smile. “What they say then?” He asks, leaning back against the sink again. 

His eyes look at you in anticipation, biting down on his lips. 

You do not want to tell him what they said. It was rude, and although it was about Drew, it affected you more than it should have. The seeds of doubt are always planted by your friends, they never put you at ease with this relationship. 

You give him a lazy smile, snaking your arms around his neck. You lean in close to him, a seductive look in your eyes. “Does it matter? They talk shit, all they ever do.”

Drew’s lips slightly part, and he glances quickly down at your lips. Then he looks back at your eyes, and a smile appears, “I see what you’re doing. You’re distracting me.”

You shrug lightly, before planting a small kiss on his jaw. “Is it working?”

You hear a chuckle escape from him, and his hand wraps around the back of your head. His eyes keep bouncing between your lips and eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear, “annoyingly so, you minx.”

Without another comment, Drew kisses you, soft and slow. 

You return the kiss, escalating into a whole make-out session. 

You hate how your body reacts to him; feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. Fuck. 

Something pokes against your lower stomach, and you pull away from Drew. You glance down; he’s erected. “Shit,” you curse, as his hands slide down your body. He squeezes your ass, burying his face into your neck as he breathes the skin there. 

“I…I can’t go back to the table like this,” he murmurs, referring to his erection. 

You watch as his back rises and falls, through the sink mirror. Even with this thick white jacket he has on, you can tell his breathing has sped up. Your lips form a straight line, running your hands through his short hair. 

In the bathroom? Right in the middle of dinner? It was highly inappropriate. 

Wrapping your hands around his face, you pull him up to meet his eyes. He looks at you pleadingly, lips parted with drool on the corner of his lips. 

Fuck. How is one suppose to say no to that look? He looked as if he physically needed you; needed you to calm the… ‘growing’ in his pants. 

“Ten minutes,” you tell him, which immediately lights the spark in his eyes. He looks like a puppy! You smile at that thought, as he straightens himself, switching your positions. 

“Ten minutes? Enough for two rounds,” he teases, lifting you to sit on the sink. 

“No! One round,” you say, which gets cut off by Drew kissing you again. As much fun as two rounds sound, the longer you linger in here, the more obvious it is that the two of you are fucking. 

He groans into your mouth, spreading your legs to stand between them. His hands move fast into your dress, slipping your underwear off. The cold surface of the sink hits your thighs and pussy, adding to the heat growing within you. 

Drew trails his kisses down your neck, as your hands work on undoing his belt. 

You moan when he sucks on the sweet-spot around your neck, the belt dropping onto the floor with a hard thud. “Drew…” you moan out, messy hands tugging his hair as he continues to form hickeys around your neck. 

You want to run your hands around his stomach, chest, abs. But the jacket he has on prevents that, being zipped up the whole way. This jacket looked great on him, but would look better on the floor. 

Your hands fidget with the zipper, tugging with no luck of it moving. 

Drew pulls away from your neck, a chuckle escaping, “babe, gently.”

His hands overlaps yours, guiding you to pull the jacket zipper down. It reveals that he isn’t wearing anything inside; a feast to your eyes. “Is that why you refused to take this off?” You ask, referring to before the dinner started.

“I was invited last minute,” he shrugs the jacket off, as if it wasn’t his fault for the improvised outfit. 

“Right, but you weren’t invited,” you remind him, when he insisted on joining you when you were leaving, throwing on a random outfit nearby. You were busy putting your heels on, so you couldn’t see the moment when he got dressed. You didn’t even know he owned a jacket like this. 

“Mmhm,” his mind was elsewhere, attaching his lips to yours again. Sloppy and more lustful this time, as your hands wander around his body. It’s hot under your touch; his abs flexing as you run your hands over them. 

His hand grips onto your thigh, before moving closer to your heat. 

When the warmth of his fingers hit your pussy, you moan loudly into his mouth. 

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we’re in public, babe.”

The tip of your ears heat up too, from the embarrassment and realization that you’re in public, most likely having people hear you from the other side of the door. “Sorry,” you murmur, burying your face into his neck. 

Drew sticks two fingers into your hole, and starts thrusting at a faster speed than usual. Your breathing becomes uneven, as you try to tone down your moans. 

Drew wasn’t having it easy either, as you hear low grunts escaping him. “Fuck,” he curses, adding another digit, “you’re tight tonight.”

“Just fuck me already,” you manage to say, hands gripping on his biceps. Surely, this was enough foreplay, right? 

He chuckles again, this time at your impatience. He pulls his fingers out of you, his hands going to the back pocket of his jeans. 

The familiar gold packaging comes out, and his hands skillfully rip them open. 

“…couldn’t put on a shirt but bought a condom with you?” Laughter escapes you, as you watch him unzip his pants. 

He glances up at you, and when he sees you smiling ear-to-ear, he can’t help but match you, “wasn’t gonna show up totally unprepared, right?”

You laugh again; what an unbelievable guy. “Shirt’s optional but condom a must. Got it.”

Drew lets his pants and boxers hang around his knees, his cock standing proud. The sight immediately wipes the smile off your lips, gulping as you imagine it stuffed inside you. 

“The chances of fucking you wherever and whenever is high,” Drew says, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He looks up at you, seeing your gaze fixed on his hard cock. A smirk helps themselves to his lips, as his hands tug on your waist. An idea flashes in his mind as he looks over your shoulder, at the big sink mirror. 

“Get off,” his voice brings you back, looking at him with confused eyes now. “C’mon, trust me.”

You let him bring you back onto the ground, before flipping you over. You see both your reflections in the mirror, your back hitting his chest, his dick poking your upper ass. 

When you meet his eyes through the mirror, you understand where this was going. 

“Watch yourself while I destroy your fucking pussy, hmm?”

Oh. Oh. Was it possible to be turned on by words? 

Drew lifts up your dress, revealing your wet core. You hold onto the sink for support, grip getting tighter when you feel Drew’s tip against your entrance. 

Then, he slips in, going deep until it’s completely nestled inside you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, glancing up at Drew. He sends you a smirk, enjoying this too. His hand goes to your stomach, and he lifts you backward, resting against his chest again. 

“Grip my hair, and keep your eyes open, alright?” His voice drops low, one hand moving to knead your breasts. 

You nod, bringing your hands behind you; one tugging gently around his hair, another around his arm that’s supporting you. 

He starts to thrust into you, rather roughly and fast. “Shit,” you moan, the sensation sending you to outer space. With his thick cock slamming into you, his hands roaming your body, your hands running through his short hair, it feels euphoric. 

Your eyes can barely stay open, as you look at the reflection in the mirror. Drew leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along your shoulder, which sends goosebumps to your skin. 

You watch as one of his hand slips between your thighs, starting to massage your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan, louder than you should be. You couldn’t help it, the pleasure was extraordinary. 

He kisses your earlobe, “i’know baby, but keep it down, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” it barely comes out, as the thrusts and massages to your core intensifies. The familiar knot in your stomach forms, informing you that you’re close. “Drew…”

His pace doesn’t stop, and when you lean your head back on his shoulder, he goes harder, “close?”

You nod with any energy left, and Drew uses his free hand to lift your face up again. He kisses your cheek, “use your words.”

You flutter your eyes open, looking at the two of you in the mirror. It was extremely hot, to see Drew filling you up, his hands all around you. The mirror starts to fog up a little, with all the grunting and pressure filling in here. 

“I’m coming,” you force out, and meet Drew’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes meet yours, seething with lust. 

You clench around him, your hand going around Drew’s, which is massaging your pussy. He stops massaging, and he intertwines your hands together. The stickiness doesn’t bother you; why should it?

“Fuck,” he groans, his thrusts to your g-spot growing sloppy. 

You tilt your head sideways, and you give him a quick kiss, which sends you over the edge. Your orgasm explodes inside of you, cum dripping out and over Drew’s cock. 

Body giving up, you lean completely against Drew, as he helps himself to his. His cock twitches, and you feel the familiar hot liquid filling up. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, euphoria radiating off your bodies. Fuck. This might just be one of the best fucks you’ve had with Drew. But in a public restroom? Who would’ve thought. 

“You’re so hot,” he compliments, before planting a small kiss on the side of your face. 

You giggle at that stupid comment, looking at him through the mirror; He’s got a playful smile on his lips, looking at you with smitten eyes. “You’re great with your words.”

He chuckles, his hands tapping against the side of your waist, signaling you to move. You use the energy left inside of you, helping him slip out. Leaning against the sink, you watch as Drew grabs tissues to wipe your core, then throwing his condom away. 

After that, he grabs your underwear on the floor. You get yourself dressed, him doing the same thing. 

“Look, only…only seven minutes passed,” Drew comments with a sly smile on his lips, showing you his watch. 

You roll your eyes, your lips betraying you by forming a smile. “Cocky much?” 

He puts his jacket back on, the last piece of clothing. “Well, you've definitely enjoyed the taste of it.”

You hit his chest playfully, his remark sending butterflies to your stomach. He laughs, zipping his jacket only halfway. Your eyebrows furrow at his exposed chest that pierces through the top; and you reach for the zipper. 

Drew stays in place, and you feel his gaze on the top of your head, his hot breath hitting you. You ignore the tension that pulls; when you’re done, you pat his chest, “all done, buddy.”

“‘Buddy’?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, eyes squinting down at you. 

You send him a soft smile, seeing him glance down at your lips. “What?”

“Call me buddy one more time,” his hands wrap around your waist, and he leans closer to you, “and you’ll get it.”

His dirty and challenging tone sends shivers down your spine, something you find yourself liking a bit too much. The pit of your stomach yells at you at how hypocritical Drew was being right now, but you ignore it. 

And just because it’s fun, you lean into his ear, and whisper, “best buddy ever.”

Tickles are sent to the side of your body, making you jump and melt into his arms. You laugh uncontrollably; Drew knew you were ticklish, using it to his full advantage. 

“Stop! Stop!” You yell between laughter, your legs ready to give up. 

“Don’t call me that then,” he stops tickling you, grip on you tight to make sure you don’t fall. He kisses the tears of laughter from the corner of your eyes, “I don’t like it.”

“Noted,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. You glance down at his lips, and he does the same to yours. 

Drew gives you the look; he wants to kiss you. 

And you let him, closing your eyes and feeling his lips against yours. 

Is it still casual if you kissed me like it’s the last time you ever will? You hate how this thought appears in your mind again, haunting you. 

You pull away, the pressure of it getting overwhelming. “Let’s head back, yeah?”

“We have to?” His eyes stay glued to your lips. “You know, We could…we could just leave.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “no!”

“Say you got plans tomorrow morning,” he shrugs, “I’ll say it for you, if you can’t-”

You cross your arms, looking up at him. “Why would I leave early?”

Drew parts his lips, and he brings his hand up to your elbow. He rubs the area there in soft circles, a playful look in his eyes, “…grab some froyo?”

You drop your arms, looking at him disappointedly. When he saw that, he hurriedly adds, “and I got errands to run. Really.”

You contemplate in your mind about this; ditching this dinner to hang out privately with Drew? Yeah, that sounded like something fun. It must be better than staying awkwardly, having your friends judge Drew. 

Casual. Casual, casual, casual. Some casual froyo with Drew, and maybe ending up with sex in his dorm room. 

Yeah. Seemed like things people whose ‘casual’ would do. 

“Fine. You’re treating me though,” you unlock the door, walking out the bathroom. 

“I always treat you,” you hear him murmur behind you, following closely behind as you two walk back to the table. 

You interrupt the conversation they’re having, grabbing your purse from your seat. They look at your questionably, before their gaze lands sourly on Drew behind you. “i’ve got something, tomorrow morning, so we’re heading off,” you try sounding apologetic, “sorry to leave this early.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Lucy glances between the two of you, “text us when you get home.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize again, before your friends wave goodbye to you. You don’t miss the hateful looks they leave on Drew, as they tell you to take care until the next time you guys meet. 

After that, you and Drew leave the restaurant, letting the doorman do his job of getting a taxi. 

A warmth around your hand catches you by surprise; Drew holds your hand, pulling you closer to him. You look down at the holding of hands; then back up at him. He’s staring down at his phone, scrolling through his insta feed. 

Holding hands. Something very casual to do, apparently. 

“What are you watching?” You ask, leaning on his shoulder. 

He laughs, showing you the screen. It’s a video of a monkey pointing towards the glass, which has different play-doughs lined along it. 

You don’t get the humor in it, but you smile, because it makes Drew smile. 

The two of you stand there, watching different posts on his phone until the taxi arrives. 

Your mind finds it strange how ‘casual’ you two are. 

Because, in the bottom of your heart, you weren’t so sure if this was casual anymore. Along the way, the lines of ‘no attachment’ seemed to have blurred. Blurred to the point of no return. 

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

word count: 4.1k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: goddamn, i would fall for this toxic relationship too T_T

sry for not posting lately, i got very busy lately! i promise you, flashing lights 6 & not a big deal pt4 is coming sooooon. but hope you enjoyed this extra, and also, thx for blowing up the halloween special, was NOT expecting that. thank you sm! your lovely comments inspire me to write these fics!

btw, watched obx s4, and the ending broke me T_T like tffff

[fallbhind]

‘CASUAL’ RAFE CAMERON

genre smut, angst wordcount 1.4k

❝ i've heard so many rumors. ❜

content warnings ,, mentions oral (f!receiving), p in v, masterbation in the bathroom, 'no attachment sex', rumors (blegh, drama llama.), rafe and reader break up. s1 era.

it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better.

sure, you did everything with rafe (when he called you up, not when you asked. sure one day you were fed up, left him a voicemail because of course he wouldn't pick up for you. "i've heard so many rumors." you said through the crackly phone. "that i'm just some girl you bang on your couch, i can't believe i thought you thought of me better."

an hour later (per usual), he answered you an hour later, telling you to 'hurry your ass out to tanneyhill'

you thought for a long hard while before ultimately deciding to head out to tanneyhill. where death literally layer waiting for you in your grave. you knew quite well what he was mad about and what he wanted, because you've sent multiple voicemails about the rumors going around outerbanks, you've heard about them and you‘be literally heard tourons living in the drama with you and rafe.

and you could never leave your back turned to long before people behind started murmuring up a storm.

you walked closer to your death in your busted up converses, running over impossible scenarios in your head. you stopped at the gate, texting rafe 'im here come to the gate.' you said with all intentions to be sassy. when you saw him, his pushed back curtain bangs, every part of him looked so hot.

he opened the gate, telling you to come on. rafe roughly grabbed your arm, taking you to his fathers study room were he did most of his work. whilst you were extremely liked throughout the cameron household, only you, rafe and maybe even sarah knew the real intent to your relationship. rafe said annoyingly, "we're not together, let me make myself clear.

it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up.

you didn't expect for his step-mom, rose, two weeks later after the major argument with rafe to invite you for dinner at tanneyhill. rafe, put on a mock smile, ready to peel the skims dress off your body. you were greeted by ward, and did he piss you off, with the fake smiling and his eyes trailing across your body whenever he could. perv.

"welcome, you look nice and sophisticated." ward said with the nicest tone he could bear, "no wonder rafe doesn't bring you up, your so lovely i'd hog you to." he laughed, and it sounded so fake. rafe had his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the dining room.

you took a seat in between wheezie and sarah, rafe sat across from you, with a pissed off expression. like, how could your's and his situation be casual now? you've literally done every thing, fingering, eating you out, a little bit of intercourse action, you've jerked and sucked him off, and you've let him jerk off onto your tits, and it was somehow casual.

after dinner, rafe again, excused you and him to go to the bathroom. he led you to the bathroom, shutting the door as he told you demanding to get on his counter, you back pressing against the mirror. "fuck, y'look s'good tonight." he pushed up the skims dress up to your hips, "'n no underwear?"

"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.

he kissed you, whispering sweet nothings like you and him didn't just have an argument two weeks ago.

he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger.

you sucked off all the pre-cum off his cock, rafe patting your cheek gently. he spread your legs more, giving him a great view of your pretty, coated pearl, pressing his finger against it, you rolled your head back into the mirror.

"rr-rafe!" you stuttered out as you cried out. he pulled away from your pretty pearl, aligning his cock with your tight hole. he thrusted into your hole, making you cry out for him again.

he squeezed your cheek, holding you in between his thumb and index finger. "c'mon baby give me more than that. not to loud though." he whispered harshly against your neck, gripping your thighs as he kept repeatedly bullying his way into you. and without break, he kept thrusting his cock into you, with a sneaky smirk. "your my girl aintchu?" he kissed your neck, taking a rest inside you.

rafe nipped at your neck as he moved his cock against your gummy hole. feeling you squeeze around him when he bite and sucked on your neck, he kept doing it. even if it felt like you wanted to squeeze his cock off inside of you. "s'tight. jus' how i like it." he whispered against your shoulder, bullying his way back in you as your gummy walls tried to push him out. he aggressively grunted in your ear, feeling the warmness off your breath as you let out a whimper and even softer moans. you gasped when he touched your g-spot, immediately convulsing around him but not yet coming on his cock.

he'd pulled out just before you could finish. he pulled his boxers, following his pants. he buttoned them up, leaving you desperate for release. you found yourself rubbing your clit trying any method of running your clit to come, though you weren't quite being able to finish off yourself. maybe the problem was that you never had to do anything yourself. you came on rafe's cock than he would come on your stomach.

you tugged your black skims dress back down, putting your heels back on as well before making your way out of the bathroom. you sat across from rafe as he had the satisfaction of making you better than before and not helping you like usual. it was great to see you a little grumpy, whilst a little nervous because you decided to be a little slut and go no underwear. but doesn't mean you weren't his little slut.

you were obviously out of it, because sarah had to tap you back into reality as everyone started eating. you cut the steak up before taking a bite of it. "this is really good ms. cameron, you'll have to teach me how to make it." you said cheerfully. rose smiled at you and nodded.

she was really proud of the fact you thought it was that good, but than of course, her cooking for the cameron's was something any mother should do, while some might think that she'd hire someone, she did it herself.

a week later, your friends had told you rafe had said it was casual still and that 'you get off when he hit it' when he never hit your clit not once. sure he left you drying for release but that wasn't the point. and that was near the last straw for you. you were tired.

you wanted a real relationship which was obvious that rafe wasn't ready for, so you found yourself calling him. and again, it wasn't something were he'd answer you, you said to him through the voicemail "i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself." you took a breath, "we're done." you said before slipping your phone in your pocket and walking away from the wreck after just having breakfast with your friend.

TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn

@wi4hfulth1nking @gibson-g1rl

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Eight

Pairing: Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 3.7k

Warning: Angst....

A/N: first of many fights <3 also your comments make my day 

-----

You walk into the apartment, the excitement from your date still buzzing faintly inside you—until you spot Bucky sitting on the couch. His eyes immediately flick to yours, his expression unreadable, and just like that, any leftover thrill from the night vanishes, replaced by an ache that settles heavily in your chest.

It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him all week, and for a second, neither of you says anything. Then he stands, clearing his throat. “So… how’d it go?”

His words reignite the frustration you’ve been holding back since last week, since his careless comment at the bar. Instead of brushing past him like you’d planned, you stop, crossing your arms and staring at him, letting your words come out sharper than you intended.

“Good. It was a great date, actually,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dean was a total gentleman, and wouldn’t you know it—I handled a real date just fine.”

A flicker of regret crosses his face, but he quickly looks away, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “That’s… that’s not how I meant it. I don’t know why I said that, and you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, as you shrugged off your coat, placing your keys and phone in the dish. “Really, Bucky? Because lately, that seems like the only thing you’ve been doing—hurting me.”

His gaze snaps back to you, his expression hardening. “You really want to do this? Just… hash everything out right now?”

You throw your arms up, the frustration boiling over. “Why the hell not? It’s not like things have been getting any better with us pretending everything’s fine!”

He steps closer, his jaw tight. “Fine. Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about that night, then.” He pauses, his voice dropping as his eyes bore into yours. “Why did you leave?”

You freeze, caught off guard. “What… what do you mean?”

He takes another step toward you, anger and hurt evident in his face. “You know exactly what I mean. After that night at the party, after we… after we slept together. Why did you leave without a word? I woke up, and you were just gone.”

Your pulse quickens, emotions swirling in a chaotic mess inside you. “Are you kidding me, Bucky? Did you even want me to stay?”

He lets out a hollow laugh, the sound filled with disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! You’re the one who walked out, not me!”

The anger rises, mixing with all the hurt and confusion you’ve buried over the years. “I left because… because I panicked, alright? You had this reputation, Bucky, and everyone knew it. I thought… I thought you’d wake up, regret it, and hate me for being just another one of your mistakes.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing across his face. “Do you really think that little of me? You think I’d just… forget about you? You’re my best friend, for god’s sake. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and you thought I’d throw that away for just sex?”

“Oh, so it was just sex, huh?” you snap, bitterness dripping from every word.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” he shouts, frustration evident as he rakes a hand through his hair, his voice breaking slightly. “God, you have to know it was more than that!”

You cross your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold everything in. “I don’t know what I thought, Bucky. But I knew I couldn’t stand being something you regretted. I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for you to decide whether it was worth anything to you.”

He stares at you, hurt and frustration radiating from him. “All I’ve ever done is care about you. Everything people said about me, all those rumors—they were just that. Rumors. I thought you of all people would know that.”

You look away, fighting the sting of tears in your eyes, but he steps closer, his voice rising. “Do you know how much it killed me? You left me there like it meant nothing.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you think it did!” you shout back, anger overtaking the sadness. “Maybe that night wasn’t some big, life-changing moment for either of us. Maybe it was just a mistake!”

His face crumples slightly, like you’ve slapped him, and his voice drops, filled with hurt. “Is that really what you think?”

You hesitate, the words burning in your throat, but you nod, unable to back down. “I… I don’t know, Bucky. All I know is that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting around, trying to read between the lines, hoping you’ll finally decide what you want.”

He steps back, his face hardening, his voice cold. “Then maybe you should go. If you’re so tired of being here, if I’m such a disappointment to you… maybe it’s better for both of us if you’re not here.”

Your heart clenches painfully, but you force yourself to nod, swallowing back the tears. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’ll go.”

“Go, then!” he yells, his eyes flashing, and you can see the unshed tears there, barely contained. “Get out. Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore. Just… leave.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. Then, without another word, you turn on your heel, your hands shaking. You feel the tears spilling over as you open the door, but you don’t let yourself look back, slamming it behind you, the sound echoing painfully through the empty apartment.

The chill of the night air bites into your skin as you walk through the dark streets, the city lights casting a glow around you, making the world feel almost surreal. You’re shivering, partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline that’s kept you moving since you stormed out of the apartment, leaving behind your coat, your phone—everything. You feel like you’re walking through a dream, or maybe a nightmare, your heels clicking against the pavement in the silence.

It’s only after you’ve been walking for a while, the shock wearing off, that you realize the closest place you can go is Steve and Sam’s. You pick up your pace, arms wrapped around yourself, mascara streaking down your cheeks as the wind stings your face. It’s late, nearly ten o’clock on a Saturday night, and as you walk you can’t help but worry. What if they’re not home? What if you just end up standing outside in the cold, with nowhere to go?

You finally reach their apartment building and practically rush up to their door, knocking, then pressing your ear to the door, hoping you hear movement inside. The minutes feel like hours, and you’re starting to feel that familiar rise of panic, the one that tightens your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Just as you’re about to give up, you hear footsteps on the other side.

The door unlocks, and then it opens, revealing Steve.His face shifts from confusion to shock as he takes you in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, voice thick with concern as he quickly pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you. “Are you okay?”

The second you’re inside, the warmth of the apartment breaks down whatever wall you were holding up. You start crying, and without a word, Steve wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob against his chest.

After a moment, he gently guides you to sit on the couch, his hand rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. But as you pull away, wiping at your smudged makeup, you see the worry in his eyes shift to something sharper, angrier.

“Wait,” he says, frowning as he looks you over again. “Where’s your coat? And your phone? You didn’t just walk all the way here without anything, did you?”

You sniffle, still catching your breath, and nod, the hurt fresh all over again. “I left everything at the apartment,” you manage, voice shaky. “I just… I couldn’t stay there, Steve. Bucky told me to get out. He told me to leave.”

Steve’s face falls in shock, his mouth opening slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “He… he told you to get out?” he repeats, trying to process it. “And then just let you walk out? At this hour? Without your things?”

You nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cover your face. “I don’t think he… he was just so mad, Steve. I was too. He didn’t care. He just… told me to go.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, struggling to contain his anger. “That’s no excuse. I don’t care how mad he was, he should’ve never let you leave like that. He should’ve checked on you, at the very least. Damn it…” He reaches out, squeezing your shoulder with a mix of anger and worry. “You should have called me. I’d have come to get you in a second.”

You offer a small, broken smile through your tears, still trembling. “I know… I just… wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He shakes his head, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze intense and filled with concern. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice softens, his anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness. “I just can’t believe he let you walk out alone. It kills me that you felt like you had to do this.”

He squeezes your shoulder, his voice soft. “Do you want to talk about it, or just… sit for a while?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “I don’t even know what to say. Everything just… came out. All these things we’ve been avoiding saying, and… I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d hurt this much.”

Steve nods, a sad, sympathetic look crossing his face. “Sometimes… those things we avoid saying are the things that hurt the most. Especially when it’s someone we care about.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and he reaches up, brushing it away gently. His eyes are soft, filled with an empathy that makes you feel a little less alone. “Thank you, Steve,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

You lean into him, letting yourself sink into his warmth, and he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you again. The adrenaline finally ebbs, exhaustion taking its place as you relax in his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since you left.

You close your eyes, and before long, you start to feel them grow heavy, your breaths slowing as you begin to drift off on Steve’s shoulder.

A few minutes later, Steve’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He carefully shifts, trying not to disturb you, and pulls it out to see a message from Natasha: Hey, have you heard from her? She hasn’t updated me on the date, isn’t answering her phone, and I’m getting worried.

He sighs, glancing at you before typing back, She’s here. She walked from the apartment without her phone or her coat. She and Bucky got into it, pretty bad, ive never seen her like this.

Natasha’s response is almost instant: Are you kidding me? followed by a string of angry emojis.

Steve takes a deep breath, looking down at you as he types out another message, this time to Bucky, his fingers pressing the keys harder than usual: She’s here. Alone. No thanks to you! Without her things. And you let her walk out like that? What the hell were you thinking?

He sends the message and then texts Sam, who’s still out with coworkers, letting him know to be quiet when he comes home because you’re sleeping on the couch. A moment later, Sam replies with a string of question marks.

Steve glances down at you, tucked against him, your breathing even and steady now, and sighs before typing a final message to Sam: I’ll explain everything later.

Steve sits on the couch, holding you gently as you fall asleep against him, your breathing soft and steady now, a world away from the state you were in when you first showed up at the door. He glances down at you, feeling a pang in his chest as he takes in the remnants of your makeup, smudged from the tears you cried on his shoulder, and he’s struck by just how much he hates seeing you like this—hurting, broken down, all because of Bucky.

Yet, selfishly, there’s a part of him—deep down, hidden from everyone, including himself most days—that’s grateful you came to him tonight. He knows it’s wrong, knows it’s just his heart betraying him again, but he can’t help it. He’s loved you since junior high, since you were both just kids fumbling through life, figuring out what friendship meant. And over the years, that love has only deepened, becoming something he never talks about, never even lets slip. He’s had to sit on the sidelines and watch as you poured your heart into Bucky, hoping one day he’d finally open his eyes and see you the way Steve does.

You deserve everything in the world, Steve thinks. Someone who’ll give you the love you’ve always deserved, who wouldn’t leave you standing alone in the middle of a dark city street, heartbroken and afraid. But instead, you’re stuck in love with someone who’s too scared to do anything about it, and Steve… he’s just the friend you come to when it all falls apart.

A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away quickly, forcing a silent, bitter laugh at himself. You’re his Bucky, he realizes painfully, and he’s you—watching, waiting, knowing you’ll never see him the way he sees you. It’s a cruel irony, and he hates himself for even thinking it.

Just then, the door creaks open, and Sam steps inside, blinking in surprise as he takes in the sight of you curled up against Steve, your tear-streaked face softened in sleep. He gives Steve a puzzled look, eyebrows raised, and Steve just raises a finger to his lips, shushing him. Carefully, he shifts out from under you, gently laying your head on the couch cushion and covering you with the throw blanket. He watches you for a moment before standing up and walking over to Sam, who’s now leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“What happened?” Sam asks, his voice low as he eyes Steve with concern.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “She showed up about an hour ago, just… wrecked. Crying, shivering at the door. She didn’t have her phone, her keys, or even a coat.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “What? Why didn’t she have her stuff?”

Steve’s jaw tightens as he answers, anger simmering in his voice. “Because Bucky told her to leave. They had a huge fight, and he just let her walk out like that. She came here on foot, alone, and he didn’t stop her. Didn’t even check if she had what she needed.”

Sam lets out a long breath, running his hands down his face in frustration. “Are you kidding me? That guy is such an idiot sometimes.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve mutters, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I thought he was supposed to tell her how he felt. I thought he was ending things with Kate.”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “I know. I thought that was the plan too. Just last week, he said he was done with the excuses, that he was going to finally tell her. I don’t know what the hell’s holding him back, but tonight… she had her first date in years, Steve. She was supposed to have a good night, for once, and instead, she’s here, like this.”

Steve’s gaze shifts back to you, his heart aching as he watches you sleep. “I don’t get it. If he cares about her like he says he does, why does he keep doing this to her? Why won’t he just be honest?”

Sam sighs, shaking his head as he leans against the counter. “I don’t know, man. But she was so happy earlier. Right before her date, and she just… she was glowing. I hadn’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. “And now… now she’s back to this, all because of him.”

Sam lets out a deep breath, crossing his arms. “Maybe this is a turning point, though. Maybe some good can come from this mess.”

Steve frowns, glancing back at him. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

Sam gestures toward you, curled up on the couch. “Maybe some space between them will be good for both of them. She can finally see that she deserves better than this back-and-forth, and he can realize what he’s throwing away. Maybe it’s what they both need.”

Steve sighs, looking down, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… maybe.” But as he stares at you, asleep on the couch, he can’t shake the quiet ache in his chest, wondering if you’ll ever see that someone’s been there for you all along.

---

The next morning, Steve steps out of his room to find Sam already up, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. Sam glances toward the couch, noticing you still curled up, fast asleep, wrapped in a throw blanket.

“She’s still out,” Sam says quietly, nodding in your direction.

Steve looks over at you and nods. “Yeah, she must've been exhausted,” he says softly.

Sam takes a sip of his coffee, watching Steve for a moment before asking, “You gonna skip your run today?”

Steve glances back at him, then shakes his head. “I can miss a day,” he replies with a shrug, moving into the kitchen and grabbing things from the fridge to start breakfast.

Sam watches him, setting his mug down on the counter. “Look, man… this can’t be good for you either.”

Steve pauses, glancing at Sam. “What do you mean?”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “Come on, you know what I mean. You, being in love with her all these years.” He lowers his voice slightly, glancing over at you again. “Just… I don’t want to see any more of my best friends getting hurt, alright?”

Steve sighs, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Keep it down, Sam. She’s literally right there.”

Sam sighs too, his tone gentler now. “I’m just saying, Steve, you can still be a good guy and a good friend… while protecting your own heart. I don’t want you to keep waiting around and getting hurt.”

Steve nods slowly, resuming his work in the kitchen. “I know what I’m doing, Sam. Trust me. It’s been years of this. I’ll be fine.”

Sam gives him a skeptical look but just shakes his head, muttering, “Whatever you say, man.” He reaches for a mixing bowl, getting ready to make pancakes. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the smell of pancakes and coffee filling the kitchen.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees you beginning to stir on the couch. You stretch, blinking as you slowly sit up, momentarily disoriented, and your eyes go wide as you remember where you are.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sam says with a grin, turning around to look at you.

“Oh God…” you murmur, running a hand over your face, slightly embarrassed. Everything from last night rushes back in a blur.

“You okay?” Steve asks, concern in his voice as he sets down the spatula.

“Yeah, just a bit of a headache,” you mumble, wincing slightly.

Without a word, Steve gets up and heads to the bathroom, returning with some Tylenol and a glass of water. You give him a grateful smile as you take them.

Sam grins, shooting you a playful look. “Well, you look like shit.”

“Sam!” Steve yells, half-scolding him, but you just laugh, shaking your head.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, swallowing the Tylenol. “I feel like it, too.”

Steve sits beside you for a moment, watching as you sip the water. Sam looks at you thoughtfully, then says, “You should go take a shower. I bet it’ll help clear your head.”

You nod, biting your lip. “I would… but I don’t exactly have anything to wear.”

Steve immediately jumps up, nodding toward his room. “I’m sure I can find some clothes that’ll work for you. Hold on.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he says, smiling warmly. “Anything for you.”

He heads down the hall, and you follow, feeling a little lighter with each step. Once in his room, he digs through his dresser and hands you a pair of sweatpants, a soft T-shirt, and a towel. “Use whatever you need in the bathroom,” he says gently, his gaze warm and steady.

As he’s about to turn and leave the room, you stop him. “Stevie?”

He pauses, turning back. “Yeah?”

You give him a small, heartfelt smile. “Thank you. For everything. For always being such a great friend to me.”

Steve’s heart sinks slightly at the word “friend,” the weight of all the things he’s never said pressing down on him. But he musters a smile, nodding. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

You give him one last grateful look before heading to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath as your emotions resurface.

You turn on the shower, feeling the steam rise as you slip out of yesterday’s clothes. The hot water pours over you, soothing your tense muscles as you stand there, letting everything you’ve been holding in pour out.

Your thoughts drift to Bucky, to the fight, to everything that was said, and the words echo painfully in your mind. You wonder if he felt any regret after you left, if he realized how much his words hurt. But then you think about how he’d looked at you, the anger and frustration in his eyes, and your heart twists painfully. It’s a cycle, you realize—a cycle of loving someone who can’t seem to decide if he wants to hold onto you or push you away.

As the water washes over you, you close your eyes, trying to let go of the ache in your chest, but it lingers, a constant reminder of the choice you don’t know how to make.

[the-faceless-bride]

Family Arguments (pt.1)

Summary: Family life with your husband was mostly a dream, but of course as all other families you have your downs… (Bakugou.k x reader)

This story is a bit silly but has some angst with comfort

Katsuki has mellowed out in his later years, now in his 30’s and no longer the needlessly mean and cruel teen he used to be; sure he still had his vulgar humor and still had a bit of an attitude when he talked but he wasn’t needlessly angry anymore, no longer screamed at the top of his lungs and scrunched his pretty face into sour expressions. However, Arguments with him were never pretty, no matter how much he’s calmed… especially when it comes to your children…

Kazumi Bakugou - the youngest twin

Kazumi had always been a leader, it’s what her father taught her to be. She never cracked to peer pressure, never backed down from a fight, and never let anyone talk down to her or about her.

However, that was what got her and her brother in trouble more often than not.

The girl wasn’t cruel, just a bit mean. One of Kazumis friends (well not friend anymore) had tried to convince her to drink, she’d snuck one of her mother’s wine bottles and was showing it off to her friends. Kazumi of course didn’t want to participate in said drinking and said quick goodbyes before turning her heels and going home.

However, she stopped in her tracks when the girl called her a ‘baby’ and baby? BABY? her?! Kazumi Bakugou?? She wasn’t a baby!

And your daughter had her father’s childhood temper, so she stomped her way back to the girl and demanded she take it back, and the girl did not… so Kazumi warned her once more to take it back, “jeez! Had I known you were such a Rat and were gonna tell your daddy and mommy on me I wouldn’t have offered you any in the first place!” The girl laughed.

And now you and Katsuki were in the car, going home after a parent & teacher meeting… about why your daughter punched another girl in the face…

And Katsuki was pissed… he gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned white, his lips were pulled in a tight pout as he drove silently.

“Dad I-“ “We will talk about this when we get home, I don’t wanna hear you right now.”

And they did, they argued.. Katsuki yelling at her at the importance of self control and that what she did was uncalled for. Kazumi only argued back that if the girl didn’t want to get hit she would’ve apologized, and that only made him more Upset. She was just like him. Getting into fights for no reason other than her pride.

And that worried him, his mother was the same way and so was he; but he didn’t want his daughter to be like him or his mother.

Yelling all the time. Being angry all the time. Letting your pride get the better of you… he’d lost many friends that way, hell even his relationship with his mother was almost destroyed because of it.

Sadly it was an argument neither of them were willing to lose…

They both agreed to put an end to the fighting for now, and they would continue the argument in the morning.

You ended up having to listen to your husband rant for another hour or so about how she is just like him when he was her age. In middle school and blah blah blah, just talking in circles really. You eventually grew tired of his ranting and pressed a hard kiss to his lips and offered him a massage in bed for his troubles… that was enough to shut him up.

Koshin Bakugou - the Eldest twin

Koshin like his sister was raised to be strong and a leader. To never back down and to always use his best judgment when making tough calls.

… and today he had to make a tough call.

Him, his sister, his friends Yama and Rai were caught in the middle of some Villans. This was the risk of being children of heroes; villans would try to attack and kidnap you. Normally when things like this happened they were taught to find a way to run and a safe place to hide.

But Koshin Bakugou didn’t want to hide… and from the looks of the villans they were weak scums compared to the villans their parents fought… the four of them could totally take ‘em…

And he was right, they could take them… but not without a few scuffs… in the end luckily none of them had strong quirks, just inconvenient ones… until Rai ended up with a split lip and nose, and Yama a slight concussion. But the worst was his little sister, who ended up with two broken limbs and cracked ribs…

It had come out of nowhere! It wasn’t his fault!… was it?

And with in moments of entering the hospital, their parents showed up. Uncle Kami rushed to Rai’s side and Uncle kiri rushed to Yama and lastly his father…

Katsuki just walked past him…

Right to his sister’s room where she had been out cold as the doctors inspected the damages done.

The drive home was silent and Koshin was to afraid to say anything, and when you all walked through the door it finally bubbled over,

“What he hell were you thinking…”

Katsuki didn’t yell… it was a low quiet grumble… a calm before the storm…

“I- I knew I could do it. I could pull it off and we-“

“They all look up to you, you know…”

“I know dad-“ “No. No, you don’t know.”

“You say run, they run. You say swim, they dive in. You say light a fire, those three will show up with oil. You are a leader Koshin… you don’t get to be selfish…”

“But dad I wasn’t! I-“

“Yes! Yes you were, just because you thought you were strong! Just because you thought you could handle it! And you were wrong!…”

Koshin just stared at his dad, his angry red eyes staring down at him,

“For a moment, did you stop and think what could’ve happened to you, to them! TO YOUR SISTER!”

“I- I-“

“YOUR SISTER COULD’VE DIED! SHE COULD STILL DIE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!! ALL BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PRETEND TO BE STRONG.”

“I- no, dad- I- I just- I-“ Koshin began to hiccup, stuttering and stumbling over his words as he tried not to cry, “…’m sorry dad..” his voice cracked, as he hunched over and began to sob…

And that’s when Katsukis anger came to a screeching halt, seeing his son breaking down was like getting a bucket of ice water thrown on him. You’d begun to softly sniffle as well by this point. And katsuki knew he just couldn’t stay this angry… it didn’t feel good.

So he reached down and pulled his son close, letting the young boy cry into him. Mumbles of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry…” Katsuki didn’t speak, just held onto his son tighter.

Later that night, just before you and Katsuki were about to fall asleep; you heard knocking at your bedroom door before it pushed open,

“Can… can I stay with you?..” Koshin ask his voice barely above a whisper, standing in your doorway. His eyes red and puffy, both you and your husband didn’t say a word and just moved a bit to the side to create room for him in the middle.

Koshin wiggled his way under the covers, pulling them past his chin to his nose,

“Koshin…”

“Yeah dad?”

“I’m proud of you…”

“…”

“You did what you felt was right, just like I taught you… and for that I’m proud of you…. But please… please, never scare me like that ever again…”

“Ok..”

“I love you,”

“I love you too dad,”

And for the first time in a long time, Koshin slept in your bed…with you and his dad.

Me while writing this ^^

ANYWAY! I hope you enjoy this!!! I was gonna have more character BUT from the looks of it, it would’ve been a LONG ASS thing, so for now it’s just Katsuki!! If you wanna see the next characters I planned please show this some love to keep me motivated!

[atlabeth]

i crumble completely (when you cry)

pairing: sebastian sallow x fem ravenclaw reader

summary: there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

a/n: hogwarts legacy was 70% off, i bought it and it's good but not good enough in all the ways that matter so im fixing it for myself. no i dont know why this is where my inspo is when i have so much unfinished stuff but just go with it

wc: 2.1k

warning(s): angst but hurt/comfort angst! a more in depth scriptorium scene so crucio is used but this is from seb's pov so lighter descriptions of all that fun stuff

“Ominis, you have to.”

“I’m not doing it!” he exclaimed. “What do you not get?”

“Would you rather die here?” Sebastian spat. “Because if you don’t, that’s what will happen. And I’ve become rather fond of my life over these past few minutes.” 

“I refuse to use dark magic,” Ominis seethed. “You of all people should understand, Sebastian!” 

“I don’t understand why you’d let us die instead of casting one spell!”

He barked an incredulous laugh. “It is not just one spell! God, you—”

“Can you do it?” 

Sebastian’s anger faltered for a moment when you spoke up, and he frowned when he saw you were looking at him. “What?” 

“Can you do it?” you repeated. “Can you cast the curse?” 

“I—” His mouth fell open and shut as he looked between you and Ominis, before they finally settled on you. “—I think so. Not well, but—”

“Then you can do it,” you said. “Cast it on me, and we’ll be out of this mess.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he said your name in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

You stared at him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ominis cut in. “I know what it feels like—you’re not putting yourself through that. We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way.” You gestured at the letters on the ground, his aunt’s last mark on the world. “You’ve got the answer right here, and a willing victim. What are you waiting for?”

Sebastian grimaced. “Calling yourself a victim isn’t helping.”

“The only reason you’re willing is because you don’t know what you’re signing up for.” Ominis’s blank gaze pointed at the ground, but his sharp words hit you all the same. “It’s unimaginable, excruciating pain. Every one of your nerves exploding, your bones being crushed to dust, your blood turning to fire. You will never forget what it feels like.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the chill settling over you. “Well, it’s either that or we sit around here until we die.”

“Even if he wanted to—”

“Which I don’t!” Sebastian cut in. 

“He would have to really mean it,” Ominis finished. 

“Again, which I don’t!” he exclaimed. 

“That just means it won’t hurt as much,” you said. “Should take away some of your reservations.”

Sebastian huffed. “There is something wrong with you.”

“And you were all for this when it would be Ominis casting it on me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I— I figured he would cast it on me!” His eyes widened. “I— I could teach it to you, and you could cast it on me!”

“Will the two of you stop bickering?” Ominis asked. “It’s not making this any better.” 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Sebastian will cast the Cruciatus Curse on me, and we’ll be out of here. Okay?” 

Sebastian stared at you, your steely gaze having already met his. You’d always been stubborn, unyielding—he’d known it since you bested him in a duel in your first ever meeting. 

Ravenclaw hardheadedness, he figured. Always assuming you knew best (you usually did), that you were right (you usually were), that you could handle whatever ended up in your path (you usually could). 

And here you were, standing right in front of him, those determined eyes unwavering as you practically begged him to cast an Unforgivable Curse on you. 

Did you know that he wasn’t even sure he could cast it on you? Not just because it was near unthinkable, but because he had no idea if he could scrounge up enough ill will towards you to even partially want to hurt you. 

Did you know that you were the reason he’d started doing better in classes? That, no matter how much he complained about your study sessions together, that he could have been doing something much more productive, he treasured every moment with you? 

Did you even know that the mere thought of causing you pain made him want to retch? That, yes, he may very well choose death over imparting the torture curse on you? 

Did you even know how he felt about you? 

Sebastian pulled his wand out his robes, his grip tightening in an effort to stop his hand from shaking. “You’re sure about this.” 

You nodded. “It won’t leave any physical wounds. It’ll be over sooner than you know it.” 

He huffed as he glanced away. “You shouldn’t be the one reassuring me.” 

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged. “Just… buy me a pint of butterbeer when we get out of here. Then we’ll be square.” 

“You’re not exactly aiming high,” Sebastian said wryly. 

You smiled. “My mum always told me it was the simple things. Now, do it before I lose my nerve.” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, once, twice, three times as he adjusted his hold on his wand. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember the wand movement, but instead, he saw your face. 

The first time he met you, when you embarrassed him in front of the whole class by beating him ina duel. When you asked him to take you to Hogsmeade for the first time, and you ended up taking down a troll—how beautiful you looked with the glow of exertion beneath your skin, when you turned to him with the widest (and maybe first) smile he’d ever seen from you in the wake of your efforts. 

How could he do something like this to you?

He pushed the doubt down. There was no other way. You wanted him to do it—wanted him to save them all from a very boring, very preventable death. 

Something in the scriptorium could save Anne. That was worth anything. 

Sebastian took in a deep breath. He brought forth every negative thought—the goblin that cursed his sister, his housemates that believed in nothing but blood purity, his uncle that refused to believe in him, refused to even try to save Anne. 

None of it to do with you, who had done nothing but support him since you helped him up from the ground after pummeling him into it, but he tried to project it onto you anyways. 

He raised his wand. 

He opened his eyes—your gaze hadn’t moved. They showed no fear, no anger, no emotion at all but steely determination. 

“Crucio!” 

Red light arced from his wand to your body. You crumpled to your knees the instant the spell reached you, skull-splintering screams echoing throughout the small room as the curse wrapped its way around you. 

Your scarf fell from your neck, your robes pooled around you, your knees and palms scraped the stone as you tried to support yourself in any way. Your agonized wails were deafening, and Sebastian nearly lost it right then and there, nausea rising in his throat. Ominis’s blank, widened gaze fell on the wall, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep his expression even. 

You were one of the strongest people Sebastian knew. Always infallible, always so smart, so level headed in the face of his impulsivity. Naturally gifted at magic, and somehow willing to tolerate him. And he’d been forced to reduce you to this. 

But it worked. Your screams of pure torment unlocked something in Salazar Slytherin’s sick design, and the door of tortured faces pulsed with red energy before sliding into the stone. 

Sebastian rushed over the moment the door started to open, his wand falling from his grasp in his haste and his eyes wide with fear and concern. He went to touch you, but stopped just before he could—he didn’t want to hurt you more. Your entire body rose and fell with your beleaguered breaths as you rolled on your side, your every movement labored. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I— I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t respond, the pain still arcing its way through your body despite the curse being done. You inhaled sharply as your eyes screwed shut, and you nodded. 

“You’re clearly not okay.” The slight waver in Ominis’s voice betrayed his unaffected stature. “That was remarkably stupid.”

“Ominis—” Sebastian started, but you shook your head. 

“It worked,” you interrupted as you lifted a shaky hand to point at the now revealed scriptorium. “Couldn’t… couldn’t be too stupid… could it?”

“There is something wrong with you,” he whispered. You could only manage a pained laugh at his words. 

Sebastian stayed there with you as you fought through the last few convulsions—he said nothing when you grabbed his hand, bit back his wince when you squeezed tighter than a vice. After what you just went through, he could bear something so small. 

Your breathing was still labored when he finally helped you up. Your legs nearly collapsed beneath you, but he kept you upright. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, desperate to reassure you. “You— you’re okay.”

“I told you I would be,” you said. 

“You did,” he conceded. “I keep forgetting you’re always right.” 

He got the slightest smile from you at that. Sebastian glanced over when he heard footsteps, and he saw Ominis approaching. His whole body still held a tenseness, but he was sure it was for a different reason this time. 

“…You took that well,” he finally said, and he held out your scarf. 

Again, another laugh and another wince. “I really didn’t. But thank you.” 

You reached for the scarf, but Sebastian got to it first. He gently draped it around your neck, taking special care to keep the Ravenclaw emblem in the front. You had a lot of pride in your house. 

“How’s that?” he asked softly. 

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Thank you.” 

He nodded too, and Ominis cleared his throat. Sebastian turned back to him, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. Ominis held his wand, and he took it back before shoving it back into his robes. Casting any sort of spell felt dirtied right now. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I… I’m sorry about all this.” 

“…Thank you,” Ominis echoed. “Let’s just get out of here before any more of Slytherin’s tricks find us.” 

“No arguments here,” you mumbled. 

Ominis walked in, and though your eyes followed him, you lingered back with Sebastian. He still supported you, one of his arms interlocked with yours. A part of him was worried that you would collapse again the second he stepped away. He could feel your chilled skin even through your robes—no wonder you always wore your scarf. You ran colder than a mermaid. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said quietly. 

“You already said that.” 

“Because it’s true,” he said. “These curses are unforgivable for a reason. You never should have had to go through this.” 

“Well, I forgive you,” you said. “We had no choice, and I asked you to do it. And,” you gave him a wry look, “it didn’t hurt that much, so you clearly didn’t mean it.” 

He couldn’t even laugh at that—he kept hearing your piercing screams, agony beyond all reason. He would surely hear them for weeks to come in his sleep, see your prone form every time he closed his eyes. 

He felt you nudge him in the side. “Hey. Perk up. I’m okay. Besides,” you gave him a sideways smile, “Rowena would be proud. Anything in the name of knowledge, eh?” 

That got the slightest of smiles out of him, and he shook his head. “There’s—” 

“Something wrong with me, I know. That’s the third time today.” You tilted your head towards the scriptorium. “Now, shall we get what we suffered for?” 

Sebastian nodded, and the two of you walked in, him still supporting you. Ominis had already made his way up the stairs—he really did want to get out as soon as possible. You had your wand in your free hand and had already murmured a quick Revelio, eyes darting around in an effort to unearth any secrets. 

“That brain of yours never stops, does it?” 

Your lips quirked. “Never.” 

Another beat of silence as you searched the alcoves together. He couldn’t help but watch you—you were a Ravenclaw in her natural habitat. Your brow creased just so, your pretty features honed to a single point of focus, cycling through all your thoughts at breakneck speed despite what you just went through. It made his heart swell with something he couldn’t quite name, right beside a gnawing hole filled with guilt.  

“I really do owe you a pint,” Sebastian murmured.  

You laughed. Lighter, this time, and with only the slightest grimace. “Make that two.” 

A smile crossed his lips without him even thinking. Sebastian was so glad he had you in his life—he was only sorry he had to wait until fifth year. 

“Deal.”

[marsdql]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘜𝘴 ✄

Synopsis: You never thought a quiet new kid, who seemed so distant and out of place, could have such an impact on you, but somehow, his presence turned everything upside down.

genre/warnings: fluff to angst, Sunghoon is really shy, stalking, miscommunication, isolation, social anxiety, self doubt, rejection, drama | Wc: 5.1k

𝒎𝒂𝒓'𝒔 note: Everything that has been going on with me and my crush, who I called Thickie, served as the basis for this. It was really embarrassing, and I still find it hard to move on from it. Everything is still in progress, so I'll turn this into a series if anything more occurs. Legit every detail in here is from my true experience so enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

You put on a white shirt with a black skirt and mary janes. Your hair had gotten a lot longer in the summer, your bangs are finally starting to blend in with the rest of your hair length, making you feel more confident. Most people dislike you after an incident that happened in middle school, you were secretly dating the boy everyone liked and when they found out, they all ghosted you. Though you didn't care and knew that their hatred was pure jealousy. Even after everyone left you, everything was getting better, as you finally became best friends with your “friend crushes”, Rei and Tzuyu.

Because you didn't want the summer to end, you and your best friends stayed up all night yelling at each other to go to bed, saying "goodnight" several times, and then messaging again a few seconds later. It was your first day of school. Knowing that you would only be attending school today and departing on a three-day trip to Toronto the following day, however, made you glad.

You walk to school and find Rei outside the school, waving to you with a big smile greeting you.

"Hey!" Rei grins, pulling you into a hug. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe like an hour? You and Tzuyu kept sending 'one more message,' and I couldn't just leave you hanging."

Rei laughs, linking her arm with yours as you both start walking toward the school doors. "Right? I was wide awake until I wasn't. But at least we're suffering together."

As you make your way through the school hallway, you catch glimpses of your classmates, most of whom glance away when they see you. But the familiar sight doesn't bother you as much as it once did. With Rei and Tzuyu by your side, you feel more grounded, more confident.

"So, are you ready for the first day? You know, before you escape to Toronto?" Rei asks, nudging you playfully.

"Absolutely. Today’s just a warm-up before the trip," you reply, your excitement about the getaway shining through.

Rei's eyes sparkle, but she suddenly stops mid-step and lowers her voice. "Oh, did you hear about the new guy?"

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Nope. What's the scoop?"

She leans in, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Apparently, Sohee saw him earlier, and she said he's exactly our type."

You feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, but you laugh it off. "Oh, really? Does he know my type that well?" Sohee was one of your old best friends, you and him were in a trio with another girl from 3rd grade until 8th grade when another girl joined the group and ruined everything. Although, you were never mad at Sohee for leaving you, knowing he was a really shy boy who followed whoever he was with, the second he got gaslighted by them. 

Rei smirks. "Let's just say he has the 'mysterious and smart' vibe. Sohee practically dragged me over to the library just to sneak a peek."

Your eyes widen in amusement. "And you went along with it?"

"Of course! I’m a great friend," Rei jokes, tugging you gently in the direction of the library. "Come on, let’s go check him out. You know you’re curious."

You laugh and shake your head, but you can’t help but let Rei lead you there, the anticipation bubbling up as you both head toward the library.

As you and Rei reach the library, she glances around, scanning for the guy she’s been talking about. Finally, she spots him across the room, and at first, her face lights up with excitement, but it quickly fades as she takes a closer look.

“Really?” she mutters, wrinkling her nose slightly. “I thought he’d look… I don’t know, better? My old crush was way cuter.” She shrugs, clearly unimpressed.

You glance over at him, and while he’s definitely cute—with that relaxed, friendly vibe—you don’t feel the spark that Rei probably thought you would. You chuckle, nodding along. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you say with a smile.

The rest of the school day drifts by, and soon you’re heading home to get ready for your weekend trip to Toronto. The city is as vibrant as you’d imagined, with lights and people everywhere. You spend your time trying new foods, wandering through markets, and snapping photos of everything from the towering CN Tower to the small, hidden bookstore you find tucked away in a quiet alley. The trip feels like a whirlwind, and by the time you get back, you’re bursting with stories to tell Rei and Tzuyu.

The day after you return, you walk into school excited to catch up with your friends. Between classes, you tell Rei and Tzuyu all about Toronto—the food, the shops, the endless things to see—and they laugh as you share your favorite moments. The day flies by, filled with laughter and classes, and finally, the last bell rings.

As usual, you, Rei, and Tzuyu gather your things and start walking to the bus stop. Since the bus doesn’t come directly to school, you have to walk a few blocks to the station—a small routine you’re all used to by now.

You’re halfway there, laughing at something Tzuyu said, when you notice someone familiar standing at the bus stop ahead. It’s him—the guy from the library, earbuds in, looking just as relaxed as before.

“Wait, he’s here?” you ask, stopping in surprise as you look from Rei to Tzuyu.

Rei raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing smile. “Yeah, he takes the same bus as us. He’s been taking it since the day you left for Toronto.”

You shake your head, laughing a little. “What a coincidence.”

Since then, you've been seeing him at the bus stop every day after school and at the library at lunch. You've been feeling a little something for him, even if you wouldn't admit it. He lets himself be the last person on the bus while you watch him wait for everyone else to board. It warmed your heart to watch him use his phone on the bus and then get up swiftly when he saw an older woman.

One problem, though, was that you didn't know his name, grade, identity, or anything else. You only knew that you followed him everywhere and that you had unintentionally managed to learn his whole routine. – Period 01: PE / Period 02: Local 218 / Period 03: Portable Class / Period 04: Local 214  

You’re sitting in the back of French class, pretending to take notes but actually scribbling on a small piece of paper. Hi, you write, your pen hesitating as your heart races. I think you’re really cool, but i dont have the courage to ask for your socials :)

You look down at the note, wondering if you’re really about to do this. You've seen him on the bus almost every day, yet you don’t know his name or anything about him. But he’s got this quiet vibe, something that just makes you want to reach out.

Before you can change your mind, you fold up the note and slide it into your pocket.

You’re standing by the bus stop, heart pounding, clutching the tiny note in your hand. Just before the bus arrives, you check your reflection in your phone screen, quickly fluffing your hair and taking a shaky breath. 

When the bus pulls up, it’s packed, and as you step on, you spot him—standing near the door, one hand holding the railing, looking a bit squished by the crowd. You can barely breathe, but this is your chance.

With the bus jolting along, you inch your way closer to him, your heart thudding louder with each step. Just as the bus nears your stop, you reach out, tap his shoulder gently, and he turns, startled, his eyes widening in surprise.

You don’t say a word. You just hand him the folded piece of paper. He takes it, still looking confused, and before he can react, you dart off the bus, practically running all the way home, feeling like you’re in a scene from a movie.

Back home, you collapse onto your bed, covering your face with your hands, replaying the moment in your mind. You can’t believe you actually did it!

It was clear that he was timid because you never saw him with friends or spoke with anyone. That's the main reason you couldn't find his socials, he was never with anyone for you to go and stalk their following to see if he has them as a mutual. Until one day, you saw him leave his physical education class one day with a classmate. You had never seen this man smile until that moment. Finally, some information that might be useful to you: he was with a boy who is two years older than you and whom you have seen around since starting high school, meaning that he could be in the yearbook of the previous years.

You sigh, glancing at Rei as you place the yearbook on the lunch table. “Rei, you don’t understand—I’ve searched everywhere for this! I’ve asked everyone in our grade for a yearbook. And now… finally, here it is!” 

Rei grins, leaning closer as you take a huge bite of your sandwich, flipping through the pages, fingers smudging a bit from the crumbs. “Okay, let’s find him,” you say with a determined look, your eyes scanning the faces. You’re on a mission. The guy you like—the quiet, mysterious one you barely ever see talking to anyone—had left gym class one day with another boy. You never saw him smile until that moment. And that moment set you on a quest. 

“Wait!” You stop, finger hovering over a face in the yearbook. You lean in closer. It’s him. The boy who was with the guy you like. “Jake… that’s his name! Rei, that’s him!”

Rei’s eyes widen as she stares at the picture. “So what now?” she whispers, excitement in her voice.

“Now, we find his Instagram.” You both huddle around your phone, searching Jake’s name. A few scrolls later, you find it, click on his profile, and go straight to his following list, fingers crossed, heart racing. 

And then—there he is! The guy you’ve been trying to find for weeks, maybe months, is right there, grinning in his profile photo, holding a peace sign and doing aegyo. You and Rei scream, your excitement echoing across the cafeteria. Everyone’s staring, but you don’t care. After all this time, you’ve found him, you check his name, Park Sunghoon.

“Finally!” Rei laughs, clutching her stomach as she recovers. “He’s so cute! Look at how he's pouting in his picture awwwhhh!!!!!”

You nod, barely able to contain yourself. He’s always been so reserved and alone, never hanging out with anyone—until that day with Jake. And now you’ve got a way to find out more. This journey, all this searching, led you right to him. You can't believe you wrote that letter talking about how you're too shy to ask for his socials and there you are, finding it a week after handing him that letter.

You and Rei are on cloud nine. You both run to the school agora, barely containing yourselves, and collapse into seats, still grinning and squealing over every little detail. 

Rei, not ready to stop, grins and pulls out her phone. “Let’s see if he has a TikTok!” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

A few moments later, she gasps, grabbing your arm. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” you whisper, leaning in as she clicks on his profile. And right there, at the top of his page, there’s a slideshow video, captioned “Top 1 ways to confess without making things awkward”—in Vietnamese(you both had to translate). You squint, heart pounding, as the first slide comes up.

It’s your letter. The one you slipped on the bus.“Oh my god,” you breathe, covering your mouth as you stare at your handwriting on his screen. There’s a photo of the tiny, folded paper you handed him, with his comment right above it. It’s almost surreal. “He kept it…”

Rei is shaking your arm, eyes wide, practically bursting with excitement. “This is insane! Look at what he wrote!”

You both scream, clutching each other as the full realization hits you. You’re laughing, squealing, and just completely overwhelmed by the moment. You’ve never felt so giddy, your heart racing as everyone in the agora turns to stare. But right now, you couldn’t care less. After all the mystery and excitement, it’s as if the universe gave you the ultimate reward: he noticed, he remembered, and he thought it was amazing.

After all the excitement, you decide to follow him on Instagram. You’re still riding that high from the video he made, and the confidence surge pushes you to hit Follow. Heart pounding, you quickly put your phone down, trying not to overthink it.

Over the next few days, it feels like you’re seeing him everywhere. You’re with your friend Tzuyu in the hallway, talking and laughing, and suddenly—you spot him across the hall. You glance away quickly, but somehow, you keep bumping into him between classes, catching each other’s eye at lunch, or passing by him after gym. It’s almost like the universe is playing matchmaker, making your paths cross just enough to keep you on edge.

After school one day, you’re finally relaxing at home, replaying everything in your mind, when you get a notification. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name on your screen: Park Sunghoon sent you a message.

You open it, holding your breath as you read:

Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you, but are you the girl who gave me a letter?

The formal tone makes you smile. It’s a simple message, polite and careful, but it feels like a small victory. You can hardly believe this is real—he remembers, and he wants to talk.

You stare at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard, your heart racing as you think of what to say. The moment you’ve been dreaming of is finally here.

You stare at the message, heart pounding, before finally typing, "Yes, I’m sorry if I bothered you with that."

A moment later, he replies: "No, it’s okay. But I have a question…"

Your heart nearly stops. "Do you like me a little bit?" he asks.

Panic sets in. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how often you’ve been bumping into him, following him on social media, and it feels like your crush is written all over you. But the fear of rejection kicks in, and you decide to play it safe.

“Oh, no! I just wanted to be friends,” you type, trying to sound casual.

After a pause, he replies, "Oh, okay, I’m sorry hahaha. I just wasn’t sure because… I’m not really looking to like anyone right now."

Relief washes over you. You’re grateful you didn’t confess outright—dodging that bullet just saved you from heartbreak. The tension fades, and you decide to keep the conversation going with some small talk, asking him how he’s finding things at your school since he’s new.

He replies with a few polite answers, mentioning how everything is still unfamiliar, but he’s trying to get used to it. He seems a little shy, but you’re both warming up to the conversation, and it’s nice to chat without feeling nervous.

Finally, you end with, “Well, I hope everything goes well for you here!”

He likes your message, and it feels like the perfect note to end on. You close the chat, feeling both relieved and excited—no awkward confessions, no heartbreak, just a friendly connection. It’s enough for now.

It’s been a while since you last messaged Sunghoon. You’ve seen him around here and there, but lately, he’s been a little less present in your day-to-day life, and you can’t help but feel that familiar flutter every time your paths cross. You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, and the anxiety has been building up. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

It’s 11 PM, and you’re lying in bed, staring at your phone, when you finally decide to send him a message:

“Hey, I have a question. Why did you follow me if you had a feeling I was the letter girl?”

You’re nervous, fingers hovering over the send button. You’re hoping for an answer, but you also don’t know if you’re ready for whatever might come next. You wait, your heart racing.

A few moments pass before he replies:

“Well, I saw you were following my friend Jake, and I guess I figured you might be the one who gave me the letter. I wasn’t sure, but I thought maybe it was worth a shot.”

You freeze for a second, remembering that yes, you did follow Jake after you found his account, thinking it might give you a better chance to get noticed by Sunghoon. You hadn’t mentioned that to him, but now it all makes sense. But before you can reply, your phone buzzes again.

“I’m sorry, but I think we should go back to being strangers again. It’s not your fault. I just, I’m really shy, and I’ve had people do this to me before back in my old country, and I just can’t handle it. You’ll find people who are better for you than I am, ive met alot of people at our school and I know there's better people. I hope we can unfollow each other and act like none of this happened.”

The message hits you like a punch in the gut. Your heart sinks, and you feel the sting of rejection, though he’s not exactly saying no. It’s more like he’s pushing you away for his own reasons—his own fears and insecurities.

Your mind races, unsure of how to respond, before you even go to unfollow as he said, he had already removed you. Part of you wants to reassure him, to tell him that it’s okay, that you understand. But another part of you feels hurt, confused, and unsure what to say next.

You hesitate, staring at his message for a while, before you try to gather your thoughts. But all you can think is that he’s shutting himself off, just like you feared. The shy, reserved guy who never really let anyone in—he’s doing it again. And you’re left wondering if it’s really about you… or if it’s about him. You sent him a few paragraphs back, making sure he understands that you're not upset (when you clearly were) and that you understand, you wished him a good year and that you hope he isn't mad at you for trying to become friends. You couldn't sleep that night, you weren't upset at what he did but rather at yourself, embarrassed how hard you were trying and how stupid you looked following and stalking him everywhere.

The next day, you’re in complete shock. You woke up still feeling the sting of his messages, the rejection lingering in your chest. It feels like a weight that won’t lift, and the emotions hit you all at once. Embarrassment, confusion, sadness, and even a sense of guilt for not understanding him better—it’s a whirlwind inside you. You can’t stop thinking about him and what he said. You wanted things to go differently. You never meant to make him feel uncomfortable. 

By lunch, you're sitting with Rei, and she can see it on your face. She gives you a concerned look as you sit down, trying to keep it together.

“What happened?” she asks gently, sensing something’s off.

Without thinking, you just let it out, the floodgates opening. “I messaged him last night. I asked why he followed me when he already knew I was the letter girl, and... he just kind of shut me down. He said we should be strangers again and that he’s too shy and I’ll find better people than him. He made it sound like it was my fault, like I was doing something wrong.”

Rei’s eyes widen, and she immediately reaches over, pulling you into a hug. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That’s a lot to take in.”

You break down, tears filling your eyes as you cry into her shoulder. “I just… I don’t want to make him feel bad. I didn’t mean to push him. He’s so shy, and I don’t know how to help him without making him feel even worse.”

Rei rubs your back soothingly. “Hey, listen, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just being honest, and sometimes people are just too caught up in their own stuff to see things clearly. You didn’t know he felt that way. It’s not about you.”

You nod, but the guilt still eats at you. You can’t help but feel like maybe you pushed too hard or misread the situation, and now everything feels so awkward. You don’t want to make things worse for him, but you also don’t know how to fix it. He’s clearly struggling with his own fears and shyness, and that makes you feel bad for him, even if it hurts you too.

“I feel so embarrassed, Rei. I just… I thought I could talk to him. I thought maybe we could be friends, but now it’s like he’s pushing me away. I just wanted to know him better…” You sniffle, wiping your tears as if you were crying over someone you were in an actual relationship.

Rei looks at you with a reassuring smile, though it’s clear she feels for you too. “I get it. But you know what? You were brave enough to put yourself out there, and that’s something to be proud of. He’s just got his own stuff going on. It might take time, but if he sees that you’re not going anywhere, maybe he’ll come around. But for now, don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

You take a deep breath, nodding through your tears. “I guess... I just feel so bad for him. He’s probably struggling with so much, and I didn’t even know.”

Rei squeezes your hand. “Yeah, but he’s lucky to have someone like you who cares. You just have to give him time. Don’t give up on yourself or on him yet.”

You wipe away the last of your tears, feeling a little better after talking it out. *“Thanks, Rei. I needed that.”*

She grins and pats your back. “Always. And remember, you’ve got this. Whatever happens, don’t let this bring you down.”

You manage a small smile, knowing that it’s not the end. You don’t know what’s going to happen with Sunghoon, but for now, you’ll give him space and try not to overthink it. At least for today, you’re not alone in this.

The excitement you once felt is slowly turning into confusion. You had imagined that things would continue like a scene from a movie—something sweet, maybe a little awkward, but ultimately fun. But the way everything’s been unfolding lately doesn’t match the fantasy you’d built in your head.

You’ve realized that you haven’t seen Sunghoon like you used to. It started with small signs at first. He’d arrive late to the bus station, and you'd notice that the usual place you’d see him was empty. Then it got worse—he stopped coming altogether. You couldn’t help but notice his absence, a dull ache that replaced the excitement you once had when your paths crossed.

Things only got stranger from there. You’d see him around school, but it was like he was avoiding you. You’d catch glimpses of him, but he’d always take a longer route to class or find ways to avoid being near you. It was like he was deliberately keeping his distance. 

And then one day, you saw him in the hall. He was walking toward you, and your heart leapt. You waited for the familiar glance, a smile, or even the awkward moment of eye contact you’d grown used to. But when your eyes met, it wasn’t what you expected. The second he realized it was you, his gaze quickly dropped to his phone. He didn’t even acknowledge you. 

Confused, you looked back as he passed, and when you did, his head jerked up from his phone, as though he was trying to act like nothing had happened. The moment was awkward, uncomfortable, and it felt like everything you had hoped for was slipping away.

It’s hard to describe the feeling. Part of you wanted to scream, demand answers, but the other part of you felt embarrassed, unsure of how to act. Was he avoiding you? Did he regret ever following you back and having that conversation? You couldn’t understand why he was shutting you out so suddenly, especially because you both never spoke, only those small messages, he was doing too much. 

Your mind raced as you tried to piece it together. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that everything had shifted. He’d been polite, distant, and you could feel the walls going up between you two, even though you hadn’t done anything to push him away. All the movie moments—the ones that had once made you feel like something magical was happening—had turned into something awkward, cold, and uncertain.

You wanted to believe this was just a misunderstanding, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing him. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that maybe he just needed space, a small part of you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The air is crisp with the Halloween season, and the school is buzzing with excitement as the annual Halloweenogrammes are being sold—a fundraiser where you can send a small bag of candy to someone with a little handwritten note. It feels like a sweet gesture, one that lets you send good vibes without too much fanfare. You can’t help but think of Sunghoon. He’s still on your mind, still lingering in the back of your thoughts, despite everything that’s happened.

You buy one for him, feeling a little hesitant but deciding it’s worth it. You want him to know that it’s okay to be himself, no matter how shy or reserved he might be. You’ve seen how he apologizes for being quiet, how he pulls away because he’s not sure what to do with attention. So, you write the message:

"You should never apologize for being yourself."

You add the little note at the end: "From a stranger." You don’t want to make things awkward or give him any false hope, but you want him to know that someone cares, even if you're supposed to be strangers now.

You wait all week, anticipation building, as the day to distribute the Halloweenogrammes finally arrives. Your heart skips a beat when you hear his name called. You hold your breath, waiting for him to do something, anything. You imagine he’ll smile, or maybe at least acknowledge it. But he doesn’t. The bag of candy sits in his hands as he leaves school, and you get no message, no acknowledgement, not even a glance in your direction. The silence stings more than anything. You were hoping for something, a tiny moment, just to show that it wasn’t all for nothing.

As the days pass, you can’t help but feel the weight of everything. You start to wonder if you misread the situation completely. It feels like he's slipped even further away, and that distance between you is growing more impossible to bridge.

So, you decide to send him one last message. You need closure, or at least an explanation, so you text him:

"Hey, I’ve been noticing you’ve been hiding more, and I feel like I’m making you uncomfortable. The bus situation and the way you’ve been avoiding me, I can’t help but feel like I’m the problem. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t bother you anymore, I won’t go near you again."

Your heart races as you send it, hoping that this will give you some answers, or at least some peace of mind.

A few minutes pass, and then your phone buzzes. His message comes through, and you hold your breath as you open it:

"It's not like I'm taking another bus because it's faster and closer :)"

You blink, rereading his message, confused and unsure what to make of it. He doesn’t mention anything about what you said. No apology, no explanation, just a comment about the bus. And then he adds:

"Don’t think about it too much."

Your mind is spinning. Why now? Why had he suddenly started taking a different bus when it wasn’t necessary? Why hadn’t he just done that before, when things were simpler? Why, when everything between you two was happening, did he choose this route? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t make sense. He never gave you a reason to stop. It’s not like he suddenly found a quicker way home—he could have taken the same bus before. You knew the stop he would get off at, it was a popular stop which had its location written on other buses. So why, now, when everything with you was starting to build up, did he suddenly choose to go a different way?

It doesn’t make sense. And yet, in some painful way, it feels like the final piece to the puzzle. Everything between you and him—the shy smiles, the awkward moments, the fleeting hope that something could happen—had finally come to an end. He was telling you, in his own quiet way, that he couldn’t handle this anymore, that he couldn’t keep up the connection, not even on a simple bus ride.

His message, though polite, felt like the closing of a door. It wasn’t harsh or cruel, but it wasn’t warm either. It was just… a goodbye without the words.

You close your phone, feeling the weight of everything settle in your chest. It’s over now, and you’re left with the quiet, final reality of it all. The movie moments you imagined for so long were never going to happen. And the silence, the distance, the unanswered questions—they’ll be the things you carry with you from here on out.

💌 Comments and reblogs are apreciated! 💌

[affableramen]

yandere genshin men trying to make things right between you

angst, mildly dark themes ayato, neuvillette, pantalone, capitano, dottore, alhaitham

note: trying a new genre.

Neuvillette

Yandere Neuvillette kept forcing you into marriage after your relationship just got established. You asked him to give you some time to think over such radical and responsible change in life, but he was adamant to your pleads. He wanted everything here and now proven officially on the papers. You spent some nights crying because to think that such gentleman-like and solitary person like Neuvillette would force you into marital relationship was eerie. The desire to possess you officially seemed to blind him completely and he went from a loving gentleman to an almost insanely addicted man who did not accept a refusal.

It was your break-time at work when Neuvillette suddenly came up to you. It was odd at first - the judge putting away his duties to meet you seemed almost unbelievable, but remembering how assertive he was in the relationship with you it might have been close to the reality.

“Can I have a moment of your time, love?” He asked you, his hand not reaching to touch you but his gaze was heavy on your face.

“Of course.”

Not longer after the two of you were sitting in the cafeteria - a curious choice for a private conversation. Although you did not deny you seemed much more comfortable in a public place rather than face-to-face with him.

“About our marriage…” Neuvillette started, his fingers grazing over his glass of water.

“You already know my opinion”, you answered with no emotion. The time to play nice unfortunately came to an end.

But the next response from Neuvillette kind of gave you goosebumps:

“If I was too harsh on you, I beg of you to forgive me. I have a habit of grasping something dear to me too tightly, and I’m afraid that I hurt you more than I could possibly imagine”, he took a pause for a breath and gulped a sip of his crystal clear water. “I genuinely need to know whether or not you still harbour any pleasant feeling towards me?”

“What are you saying? Of course I do, Neuvillette—I admit you were unacceptably rough on me the past few weeks, but it would make me a poor lover if it were to stop me from harbouring affection to you.”

The judge sighed in relief, and then his expression became serious again.

“I would love nothing more than for us to marry, but I realise the circumstances of pushing you too much. Tell me, dear, if you no longer want to proceed in intimate acquiantance with me.”

You shook your head - seems like he was not hearing you. You then took his hand in yours and spelled it again, frankly:

“No, I want to be with you, wholeheartedly. And the marriage proposal, I shall accept it too.”

Pantalone

When Pantalone kidnapped you for no specific reason, days turned to weeks. You almost forgot about the existence of sunlight as he kept you there like a pretty little porcelain doll for his own amusement—or whatever his nasty reasons might have been.

The last time you tried to escape his gloomy, mysterious castle-like home, you were severely punished for your “bad behaviour”. Blood dripped down from your chin as you were sitting on the floor of a dark hollow room, chained and bruised by his henchmen. Perhaps he considered it too tacky to touch you with his own hands.

And then he entered. You didn't even want to look at his unapproachable, icy-cold eyes, and simply turned away, your eyes shut and hidden from him.

“How rough you look”, he said with his usual tone which was cold, but at the same time smooth like butter.

You were dehydrated and hungry, that’s for sure. You wanted nothing more than a warm fuzzy blanket and sweet tea, and forget this nightmare forever.

“What was the last time you had a proper meal?” He asked. He knew you never ate his food because you’d consider yourself indebted to him. And you did not want to take anything from this man.

Your face went deadly pale and bewildered when Pantalone dropped on his knees before you and started freeing you from your shackles. His hands were shaking wildly, you could witness how poorly he mastered the lockers due to his stress.

Yet without a single doubt, with no longer time to lose he wrapped his arms around your waist to carry you. His clothes were a little stained with the snow, and a bit of freezing touch made you shiver.

“I will never do this to you anymore. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.” His words that used to be spoken as an order now were slipped from his lips as a request. 

You were laid in the warmth of the sheets of your own home. The familiar surroundings brought you joy and comfort you never knew you’d forgotten so easily.

“My butler is cooking a dinner for you in your kitchen.”

He watched the whole time you were eating, guarding you and seeing how desperately you were filling your stomach up. When you finished eating, there was one loud slap—against Pantalone’s face, by your hand. In a normal situation, he would be so angry and furious that the earth would shake of his abhor. But now he was simply taking it.

"I know. I should never have treated you like this. I ignored your wishes and violated your privacy. I’ve done the worst crime to you—I took your freedom”, he touched the red mark blooming on his cheek from your unexpected punishment. “I wanted to obtain you so much that I ended up hurting you instead.”

Ayato

He was rich to his fingertips. In his world, the only thing he could not have, but wanted to, was you. You found yourself working as his secretary, aesthetically pleasing and always efficient. But Ayato was ruthless; he could never be satisfied, he was always unhappy. The requirements to you were growing day by day, and keeping up the standards seemed an impossible task. His moods were changing like a thunderstorm.

It was a regular day when you were performing your duties that you felt someone’s presence behind your back. Ayato was not exactly above lurking so he made his presence known after you turned to face him. He did not expect you to turn so rapidly and ended up with his breath tickling against your face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have been too demanding and controlling. My actions driven by raw possessiveness inflicted undesirable effect upon you”, Ayato’s words died away, though the expression on his face became even more grim and grave. “You do not deserve such treatment, any of it.” 

You nearly dropped your working papers as you stared at him. Was this man really sincere? How long has he been overthinking about your relationship? It took you just a few seconds to gather your composure and strike him with an indifferent glare.

“It’s always so easy and costs no trouble for you, rich people. You just take what you want without considering either the outcome or other people’s feelings. You see people as things, belongings in your possession, and you never have enough.”

At that, Ayato became even more tense, his expression that was mainly seen by the most of people as sweet and gentle, now was an embodiment of darkness. Nevertheless he nodded to you.

“What should I do for you to forgive me? I’m not going to lie and say that I did not think about how harmful my attitude might have been to you for the past month. What think you? Do I even stand a chance?”

“Fat chance”, you chuckled under your breath. The laugh was almost too bitter rather than sarcastic.

Ayato took your hands in his, his black gloved thumbs rubbing against your skin slightly.

“You’re like a poison to me. A very addicting one. And the more I see you work for me, the more I want to have you by my side. Not just at a formal event…” he bit his pale pink lip for a moment. “I’m starting to feel as if I’d like to see you out of work circumstance, and the thoughts of such impropriety are enough to drive me utterly insane.”

You reciprocated the light squeeze that came from his hands, however yours was less obsessive and more gentle. 

“It is a very dangerous thought, Ayato.”

“Oh, I can be a very dangerous man. For you, that is.”

Capitano

You were walking in Capitano’s garden, feeling yourself like a beautiful bird in a golden cage, but in fact you were a princess in a beast’s castle. Once you saw his real face, you kept having nightmares about his skin rotting appearance. This man was scaring you to the bone, and every time you met him, although not very often, you felt how demanding and heavy the gaze of his icy blue eyes was.

You did not see him often, but once a while Capitano requested (no, ordered!) a private dinner with you. The rooms were dimly lit, his loyal butler making preparations to the highest standards as usual, and you - wearing the most luxurious of dresses you’d only be able to peek at in the past. But your face was the odd one as it beared no smile on it. You were gravely terrified by this man who had claimed you as his. And even though you slept in separate rooms, you could not brush the feeling as if he owned you; well, he kind of did, since you dwelt in his mansion. 

Per usual, you were having a dinner with him at about eight in the evening when Capitano finally spoke. His tone was filled with assertiveness and power, yet the way he was eating, the movements of his hands were elegant enough to remind you of an excellently-educated prince.

“Y/N, I need to speak to you.”

You shivered when you heard him, and you let go of the fork. The jingling sound spread across the room which put you even in an unnecessarily bigger predicament.

“Yes, sir?”

Capitano hummed - he put his utensils away and looked as if he was carefully choosing his words which was not a habit of his. This Harbinger often talked exactly what he thought and was known for his bluntness. Capitano never beat around the bush and was always straight to the point, and this was one of the personality traits of his that made you feel conflicted. It was both terrifying and worth of respect.

“I want you to stop being scared of me. I want you to see that there is more of me than a horriffic, ugly old beast.”

You gasped: did he just used those unflattering words to himself? It felt so odd and so frustrating.

“What feelings do you want me to harbour for you, given our unusual circumstances?”

There was a long pause before Capitano made a sip of his red wine and suggested the following:

“Affection is too much, but could you at least try to be friendly with me? Don’t you see—can’t you see how hard I’m trying to make your life with me less unbearable?”

Affection… friendliness… is that what he really needs from you?—you think.

“I’m a prisoner here, I cannot imagine how I am supposed to show any warm feelings towards you. It would be fake and stupid.”

“Then make them not fake and stupid.” Capitano raised from the table and stormed out of the dining room, leaving you alone in the dim light of candles.

Dottore

You woke up on the plain lab bed, still restrained but this time your pain was drastically diminished. When you opened your eyes the lights did not cut your sight right away and you realised that the room was only dimly lit. You sighed in relief - perhaps he went on a break and you had a few moments of rest from his constant analysis and experiments upon your body.

There were a few tattoos on your hands but too small to even understand their meanings. Perhaps it was something from Zandik’s past that he decided to ruthlessly carve on you.

Your happiness and sense of relief did not last long though, as the man who called himself Doctor entered the room not exactly quietly. 

“Look who’s alive. I’m glad”, he wrote something on his notes, “very glad, even.”

“What are you going to do to me next? Turn me into… abomination?” You attempted to sound sarcastic even though all your being was screaming inside. “I’m pretty sure you have not gotten your fill yet out of me.”

Dottore abruptly stopped writing and dropped his journal on the lab desk next to you.

“I think we’re finished here.”

“What?”

“I said you’re free to go”, he cut your leather restraints with one rough motion that had a vibe of uncertainty of the soul.

You looked at your hands, your body cheered welcoming freedom, but at the bottom of your heart you were perplexed.

“But why?”

Dottore did not utter a single word more, with his face buried into his other records, he turned away from you completely ignoring your presence.

You found your clothes tidy and repaired on the chair, and put them on quickly. Upon escaping the place you saw that not a single Fatui agent was preventing you from leaving. You looked at the lab once more and a pang of strange kind of sorrow appeared in your heart. Perhaps, you should pay him a visit once you’re recovered? Or was it a bad idea?..

Alhaitham

The nerdy scholar was quite possessive and jealous. He had a very curious but rather depressive personality. You thought him a quiet man until one extraordinary and terrific experience. 

Alhaitham locked a man in the library for the whole night after he saw him giving you too much attention and you happily reciprocating him. An innocent friendly conversation seemed a blunt flirt to him. He could not bear the thought you having affection to someone else who was not him. When he saw you first he realised that he wanted you to see only him, and give all your attention to him. He craved to see you wanting his company, clinging to him or even agreeing to date him. But since his personality was too aloof and he never ever attempted to simply ask you out, but kept staring at you from the side, stalking unnoticeably and gather all information about you, you never had a chance to learn of his true feelings. Behind his obsession there had to be something, as such strong feelings never came out of nowhere.

Upon seeing you chat with that guy Alhaitham grew so furious that he almost not giving it a thought just slammed the door with the poor guy in the library and left him there for the whole damn night. Blinded by his jealousy, he did not even consider how you’d feel about that. The next morning you were perplexed by the sudden disappearance of your classmate, and once the library opening time came, the student was finally released.

“How could you do this to him? To anyone?” You asked Alhaitham; it did not take much time to learn whose fault was that.

“How could I?” He asked you back, his expression grave and unmoveable as if he were not interested in a single thing in the world. “How could you spend so much time with him? He’s a total jerk.”

“Judging by what you did the total jerk is you! How could you simply lock the person up? Are you insane?”

Alhaitham’s patience started to grow thinner. He squeezed his hands into the fists so hard that his knuckled turned snow-white.

“Are you stupid? You really don’t see how I feel about you? And you keep being so nice to everyone but me. You’re obviously ignoring me.”

Bewildered, yet you finally understood the root of the case. You stared at him for a few seconds before checking if anyone was near to eavesdrop. Luckily, there was not a soul around so you spoke honestly:

“If you wanted to woo me, endangering someone was not a good idea. You did something I deem unacceptable. And such unacceptable actions will only make me like you less, Alhaitham.”

Alhaitham leaned closer, his voice was a gentle whisper.

“Right? Then teach me to woo you properly. I’ll do thousands of attempts to win you over, no matter the cost.” You pressed your hands against his shoulders to prevent him from getting into closer proximity with you, and Alhaitham, although not completely willingly, but still backed off.

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “Looks like biology never ceases to surprise us. I had no idea that eggs had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. That's pretty impressive. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lip trembles before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your hand gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you wash up, then dry off, and put your clothes on. 

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and hold him for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room and the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?” He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[innerfare]

Beckman Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Beckman angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Type of Date, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, Kisses, Cuddling, You're Sick).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Sees to your wound without a word, making sure it’s disinfected and bandaged and receives proper care until its healed. Places a soft, quiet kiss atop your head, doesn’t say a word. Makes a mental plan to avoid similar situations in the future. 

Type of Date: 

I know he doesn’t canonically own a motorcycle but I just really can see him having one and taking you out for a long, evening ride as a date (maybe a canonical equivalent would be him taking you out on the water, but we’re sticking with the motorcycle for now). You maybe end up on a cliffside sitting together on a picnic blanket, sharing a snack and something to drink. He might read to you, or you might just sit in comfortable silence with your head on his shoulder or his in your lap. Might also take you to a bookstore or small coffee shop he's been going to for ages. And wherever you go with Beckman, the two of you always end up watching the sunset together. 

Paradise 1: 

Climbing out of bed before dawn because neither of you can sleep, having a cup of coffee, and walking hand in hand down the beach, stopping to bend down and pick up rare seashells to add to the collection on the bookshelf in your bedroom, not talking much at all but simply admiring your shared bounty in the pale dawn light as the sun creeps over the horizon.   

Paradise 2: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

You’re in the clutches of the marines. Beckman had a past before Shanks, a past that involved deserting the marines and going on the run from the World Government, and there’s a small part of him that never did overcome the fear of that past catching up to him. Worse still, he has a fear of that past catching up to you, and that fear comes to life in his dreams, when you’re thrown into Impel Down for his crimes and he’s forced to watch them dunk you in boiling water over and over again. He wakes with you asleep on his chest, the same as every night, and the skin to skin contact calms him down, but not enough for him to go back to sleep. 

I Love You: 

He’s always visiting you on your home island, either finding excuses to plot a course straight to you or sneaking away for a few days. It’s only as he’s leaving one evening that it strikes him: he loves you. It takes him a very long time to decide to tell you. Given his lifestyle, a relationship isn’t exactly easy, and he would be putting you in danger should anyone learn your association to him. Plus, he enjoys his freedom. He works it over in his head for months, to the point Shanks even asks him about what’s bothering him, though Beckman doesn’t fess up. But he just can’t get you out of his head. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can’t even focus in a fight. One late night, he returns to his cabin to find Shanks waiting. His captain has puzzled out what has the first mate in such a state, and Shanks tells him to go take care of his business. Beckman agrees and turns up at your doorstep at three in the morning with some flowers he picked on the side of the road because he felt awkward showing up empty handed. You lead him into your kitchen and make him something to drink, thinking something horrible has happened, only for him to confess his love for you. He’s not shy about saying it after that, always making sure to tell you when he greets you and says goodbye, as well as several times in between. 

Kisses: 

Doesn’t kiss you in public (or show any affection in public, really). You’re the type of couple that nobody can tell is together. But when you’re behind closed doors, you’ll receive quite a few different types of kisses: the deep and sensual kisses that always lead to something more, the slow kisses down your neck when he’s tired but wants you so bad, the lingering kisses he places on either your cheek or hand when his mind is elsewhere, the sweet kisses on your forehead before he rolls out of bed in the morning. And when his mind is elsewhere, the best way to get him out of his head is to kiss up his biceps and across his broad shoulders. 

Cuddling: 

He’s not really one for PDA, and he’s not even particularly clingy behind closed doors, but he expects to be able to hold you every night. He has big arms and he puts them to good use, wrapping them around you in bed while the two of you talk about nothing and everything, Beckman taking the opportunity to get stuff off his chest that’s been bothering him. 

You’re Sick: 

The type to hold you through it. He can’t do much more, he knows that, so he focuses on what he can control, such as making you feel safe and warm (and ensuring you don’t try to get out of bed before you’re ready). He starts feeling a little under the weather himself after a while, but he doesn’t tell you that, wanting you to focus on your own health. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[milykins]

One More Night

I felt inspired by @justalotoffanfiction who wrote a Bayverse Raph story based on Mr. Brightside, so I thought I'd try my hand writing something based on a different song, One More Night by Maroon 5.

TW: Angst, Abuse toward Raph, verbal and physical, swearing and mentions of sex.

*Aged up characters

*Bayverse Raph × Reader

*HEA ending guaranteed

Special thanks to @avery73 for beta-reading!

Even the strongest of us can fall victim to this type of treatment. Raphael was no exception.

SLAP!

The sound reverberated off of the paper-thin walls in the tiny apartment. She was hitting him again. She was always angry at him for some reason. Why the hell was he here again? Oh, yeah, because she wanted to fuck him. This was always the reason.

He got a little bit of satisfaction seeing her shake her hand after slapping him, though it did nothing to quell her seemingly burning hatred toward him. If anything, she looked more enraged that his skin was so tough.

“You ASSHOLE! You think you can come and go as you please?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” She was screaming at him because his patrol had gone longer than it normally would, and she did not like to be kept waiting.

He knew this, and he should care, but he didn't. This… ‘thing’ they’d had going on had been well-established for months, but any time something went awry or didn’t go according to plan, she exploded. It’s not like she could really hurt him… slapping, hitting, throwing things at him. It didn’t really matter. That’s what he tried to tell himself, to make excuses for her behaviour because, on the other hand, being with her had resulted in some of the hottest sex imaginable. That’s why he kept coming back. That’s why they both kept coming back.

It still made him angry though. Fucking bitch.

“FUCKING FINE! I’ll just fucking GO THEN.” He meant it and whirled around to leave.

“Don’t you take another step Raphael.” She snapped; her voice deadly low. “Get the hell over here.”

He should leave. He should shut this down right now and never come here again. They both knew that this wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop coming.

And she knew it.

Moments later he’d spanned the length of the room and had her pressed tightly against the wall, kissing her ravenously, his hand fisted in her hair. She was just as desperate, hands clawing at him, trying to remove his clothes, and throwing his weapons to the ground. As hot as that was, he’d never liked how she had no respect for them or cared about how dangerous they were. All she had cared about was getting what she wanted.

In the aftermath, he laid in her bed staring at the ceiling hating himself. She was deeply asleep beside him blissfully unaware of his conflicting feelings. She’d apologize of course in her moments of clarity, even promise that next time she’d be nicer, gentler. She never kept that promise.

Quietly, as only a ninja could, he dressed, retrieved his weapons, tucking them safely into his belt and left. He felt like such an idiot. He needed to stop fucking doing this. He knew his brothers and their father were worried about him but he shut down anytime anyone tried to ask him about it. The only one who had any idea of what was going on was Casey.

“Dude, she sounds fucking awful, why do you keep going there?”

“Cuz she’s hot and the sex is amazing.”

“No pussy is worth this, man. She’s slapping the shit out of you every time you go.”

“’s fine, it doesn’t really hurt me any.”

“Maybe not physically, but it ain’t great for your head.”

“I’m fine.”

They’d left it at that; but as time went on, he was slowly coming to the realization Casey was right. This wasn’t good for him but he kept going back. He needed to stop; he needed a reason to cut ties with her for good.

You ended up being that reason.

You’d been best friends throughout your teens and had lost touch after the two of you had met your respective partners. Your relationship had ended disastrously with him cheating on you with a ‘friend’ of yours. Immediately, you cut ties and burned those bridges with both of them. Now single, your thoughts had turned back to Raph. You wondered how he was doing and hoped he was happy. You wished the two of you could reconnect and catch up, but you were afraid he’d forgotten all about you.

It's funny how life works sometimes. One Saturday night, you heard glass breaking in the apartment below you. You had just moved in and had groaned when you realized there was probably a loud argumentative couple living below you now. Hearing more noise and muffled yelling prompted you to go to your balcony to see what was going on. You figured you could call the police if it got really bad and you were just a tiny bit nosy.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw and heard.

“You’re fucking crazy! I’m done. WE’RE FUCKING DONE! I ain’t never coming back here!” It was Raph, it was unmistakably his voice. You’d know it anywhere.

Craning your neck over the side of your balcony you looked far as you could and saw him. The poor guy looked like a wreck. There was red liquid and bits of broken glass all down his front. From what you could see, it appeared to be remnants of a glass of wine. You could assume that it had been hurled at him along with the entire bottle it looked like.

“Don’t you fucking walk out on me, Raphael! GET BACK HERE!” The woman who’d thrown those things was screaming at him but he wasn’t turning back.

It was only when you heard the screen door slam shut that you dared call out to him. “Raph?”

He heard you, how could he not? Seconds later, he was swinging himself up to your balcony, whispering your name in surprise and looking ashamed at his appearance. He hurriedly brushed any remaining pieces of glass to the floor. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I just moved here.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached to grab his arm but stopped when you saw him physically tense up. What had happened to him? He used to be so strong in your eyes, and now he looked afraid to have you touch him.

Slowly, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you gently pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but notice that he just looked so angry and… broken.

“Are you okay?” You knew your concern was valid since he was quiet a long moment before answering.

“…I’m fine.” He was lying to you, and he hated himself for doing that. He regretted it the moment those two words left his lips.

Sucking in a breath you gently grabbed those huge biceps of his and met his troubled gaze. God, you’d missed those piercing green eyes of his. “You’re not fine Raph… you’re covered in wine and…” You looked at his face, studying it more. “Does she… hit you?”

He turned away in shame as he tensed. “Doesn’t hurt none…”

You narrowed your gaze, your own anger rising up as you gave those arms a squeeze. “How often is she hitting you, Raph…?” Again, when he doesn’t answer right away your tone and your grip become harder. “How. Often?”

He spoke so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “A lot…” If he’s finally admitting it to someone, it should be you.

A lump was quickly forming in your throat as you realized what had been going on. What kind of relationship he’d been dealing with. Why he was so tense and unsure. How unhealthy it was and why you hadn’t heard from him in so long.

“Raph… that’s… abuse. She’s abusing you.” You whispered these words because it hurt you to say them any louder. You knew Raph would never lay a hand against a woman, but you never expected him to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing.

His first instinct was to argue against that. He bristled as he backed away out of your grasp, walls of defense shooting in place as he tried to deny it. That was ridiculous! Him being abused.

“No it ain’t! I’d know if I was… that’s fucking ridiculous!” He’d curled his hands into large fists, his shoulders hunched and slightly shaking with his denial.

You can feel him practically vibrating with humiliation and uncertainty. You say nothing more as you go to him and start gently rubbing his shell. You’d done this often for him when you both were younger. The action was soothing to him whenever he was angry and upset about something. When you finally felt him relax, you moved around to his front, hugging him tightly. A few tears slip down your cheeks, adding to the wine stains on his red hoodie. You felt absolutely broken for him.

“Please don’t say you’re fine Raph… not to me…” You attempted to swallow the lump and keep your tears at bay. “It’s okay… It’s okay to admit this is happening to you, and it’s okay to leave…” You choked out a sob. “It’s okay… to not be okay. I’m here for you.”

That was it. Finally, finally, the walls fall down as his arms came around you holding you so tight you could barely breathe. He’d been living a lie for so long, spent too many months with this appalling treatment, but seeing you, hearing that was all it took. The dam broke; he buried his face into your shoulder, shaking slightly as he finally allowed himself to break.

He was crying, you realized as he quietly sobbed, his own tears joining yours as you cried together. “It’s okay, big guy…” you choked out. “It’s gonna be okay…” You rubbed his shell as best you could, being an anchor for him in his time of need.

When he finally looked up, you could see his mask was damp, his expression vulnerable and unsure accompanied with shaky breaths. You suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Where had that come from? You two were just friends… right? Plus, this wasn’t the right time… he needed to get his head right and recover. You shook the thought away and took his hand, guiding him to your couch. “Take that off.” You softly ordered. “I’ll wash it.”

Too exhausted to fight or argue, he listened and removed both his red mask and hoodie. Gently, you took them and threw both items into your washing machine with laundry soap and oxyclean. Hopefully, that would be enough to remove the wine stains.

He relaxed into your couch and called for you. “C’mere.” The request was soft yet held a note of urgency. When you approached, he reached for you and pulled you onto his lap. “Jus’ wanna hold you,” he murmured, needing your comfort and closeness, something he’d been severely lacking in for a long time.

It was easy to melt into his embrace and wrap your arms around him in return. “I gotcha big guy…”

He held you quietly for a long time, just breathing in your scent and taking in your soft energy. This was the turning point, the sign he’d needed to make a permanent change in his life and cut that toxic woman out of his life. He hadn’t felt like he had the strength to do it previously, but with your support, now he did.

“Thank you… for bein’ here…”

“I’ll always be here for you Raph…”

True to his word, he’d made good on his decision to completely cut ties with her. There had been even more yelling and items being thrown at him, but he was done. Once he’d made up his mind, that was it. He was one hundred percent DONE. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to come back from it.

You were there waiting for him when he told you the news and were so happy and relieved or him. His brothers, in turn, were also relieved with Mikey even calling to thank you for being there for his big brother.

He visited you regularly, now having a much better reason to go to that same apartment building. The two of you slowly reconnected and started making up for lost time. You were a crucial part of his recovery and ended up being a major element in his support system. The feelings you had toward him from that fateful night had only grown stronger, but you wouldn’t act on them. You couldn’t, not until he was fully healed.

Raph had been realizing how wrong he’d been to let you go and had vowed to make it up to you. It was little things at first, stopping by after patrols with pizza, sending you a random meme that he hoped would make you laugh, and bringing you your favourite latte in the mornings. He was slowly coming to terms with how much he had missed this and how much he had missed you. This is what a healthy relationship looked like, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.

It was a few months later that it had finally hit him over the head that what he’d needed and what he truly wanted had been right in front of him all along. He saw you, and when he’d nervously confessed his feelings, he’d been absolutely elated when you’d told him you felt the same way.

That first kiss you two shared had been the pinnacle of his journey to healing.

Afterwards, you’d held him close and whispered these words.

“No one will ever hurt you again.”

Because you would make sure of it.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28 @definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#10. The Other Woman

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Oral (f.recieving) Unportected sex/ Cum play/ Cum eating/ Office sex/ Word 'slut'/ Multiple orgasms (f.recieving)/ They are both assholes/ Hoseok is a little shit/ Angst / INFIDELITY

Word count- 20k

a/n- I was drowning in assignments up untill now. It's all over now. (Yay!!!). So I pulled this off within three days. Hope I've done good job. Thank you all for reading like always. ❤️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

You really and very innocently had thought that you have finally fallen into a routine in your life. Even though it’s not normal. There’s nothing normal about waking up in two different worlds every other day. Still, you believed you now have an order. The part where things were unexpected was over. Then of course, it wasn’t. When you woke up in a darn school, you thought, yet again, it was for a one time. You should’ve known better, though. Since nothing in your life was a one-time thing ever since you woke up next to Park Jimin. No difference this time either.

The very next day after you came clean to the people you know; you woke up in your apartment. Safe and sound. The only hassle was explaining to Key that it somehow didn’t work. What a liar you are. Not that you had any options. Other than that, it all went normal. And you weren’t in pain either. Simply because you were in your space. Not Liya’s. It was your world. Then there came the day after that. Waking up inside a school was terrifying but waking up at a bus stop was nightmarish. You nearly had a stroke to see a woman with bright red lips staring at you as if she wanted to make soup out of you. Fortunately, though, you had your phone with you that day. No one has stopped to steal it from you. Then in a moment of panic and wanting to get away from that woman you had called the first person who came to your mind.

Park Jimin. Yes, it’ll always be Park Jimin, indeed.

And he came. Like he would. In a minute. Bed hair and puffy face. Had asked you if you were okay. Had made sure you were okay. Safe. Then finally you had that chance to talk. Get things clear. To plan out what you’ll do. Only if you haven’t wasted it. It went awfully to tell the truth. You two had talked about two things precisely. First, Jimin asked you what Liya had told you the other day. You honestly didn’t know if you should tell him. For some reason you decided not to. You answered with a simple, ‘nothing much, just talking’. Jimin had looked you in the eye. He knew you were lying. Second, you asked him how it went for him. He took his time just to say, ‘nothing, she understood’. You had looked him in the eye. You knew he was lying. And then that was all. Nothing less. Nothing more. An entire drive to Jungkook’s apartment in silence.

At the very last moment when you were about to drop off, however, he had stopped you. With a gentle tug in your hand. Had talked to you. Finally!

He wanted you to call him if it happened again. If you woke up in a random place in middle of nowhere. Well, you intended to do so in that moment. Until his phone rang. Caller ID read ‘Baby’ with a heart. A gentle reminder that you wanted to make things right. You had a plan to leave. Jimin wasn’t a part going well along with that plan. He is the very reason you’re still in this world. See now, you might not know what the hell you’re doing, but for fact you know the more you’re with Park Jimin, the more reasons you’ll find to stay. He’s a dangerous man after all. Tempting. Too tempting. It was your time to start doing things right. So, you did. When it happened again. When you woke up under a cherry tree you called Jungkook.

Jimin wasn’t happy. No, he wasn’t. Not the least. Had blown your phone out with hundreds of calls and texts. Had stormed inside Jungkook’s apartment like he owned the place. His excuse was that you never got back to his calls. Well, in your defense he never really gave you a chance to call back. Not even to send a text. You wanted him to leave the moment he invaded the place. But then there was that genuine worry in his eyes. Care. Affection. Panic. Was slightly shaking. Jimin always affects you in strange ways. So, you were forced to talk. Not much, however. And it wasn’t a two-way conversation. It was mostly you talking and him listening. Telling him about why he shouldn’t be running all around Seoul, saving your ass when there is a girlfriend waiting for him in his house.

See now, he never told you how it went with the said girlfriend and yes you knew he lied when you asked. But then, after loads of thinking you came to a conclusion. If he wanted you to stay after everything. Even after Liya is here and his request was still valid, he would’ve already asked you. He would’ve stayed that day. Like Liya said, nobody wants you here. Jimin has changed his mind.

Besides, you know Liya is a part of his life. And you think that part is inseparable. Five years isn’t a short time after all. Maybe Jimin never thought that your wish would work, and his girlfriend would be here. Maybe he is just a jerk who wanted to keep fucking you while Liya lived in a blissful lie. Maybe he is just a mess like you. In the end, you didn’t want to make it even messier.

Of course, you didn’t tell him that you’re partially scared of getting too attached to him. When you have to leave whether you like it or not. You just reminded him he has a girlfriend. And that you don’t plan to become the mistress. He said nothing. Absolutely nothing. How disappointing that was. You expected him to fight. Tell you that you knew what you were getting yourself into. But no. He accepted. He’s always more annoying when he does that. Gave a look to Jungkook who was lingering in his living room. Giving you space. You’ve no idea what Jimin was searching for. Assurance that you were safe. Maybe not. Then had simply nodded. Made a request. A request for you to text him every day. Single text message. Nothing much, just an ‘I’m okay’ would be enough. And left. Like that.

Leaving you with a painfully squeezing heart. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought that topic up. Should’ve let him to mess with your life as long as you can. The moment the front door closed it was only one thing that ringed in your mind. He made his decision. Just like you thought, he didn’t want you here. It had been a mistake he made. Asking you to stay. He decided it’d be Liya. Well, of course. That’s not even a choice. You and Jimin were nobody to each other. Just a fling that passed by.  Why were you hurting anyway? Why are you still hurting?

Oh, hell, you are hurting. Missing him. Painfully. Even to this day. Have no idea how long it has been. A week? Two? In the end, that was the last time you saw Park Jimin. And he never replied to your texts.

…………………………………………………..

“This shit can’t keep happening, Noona. Just think how dangerous it is. What if you wake up in a hideout of some fucking gang, or... or what if you wake up inside a zoo, inside a lion’s cage; what if you wake up with a snake?” Jungkook’s mouth goes adorably wide, along with his eyes. Yet you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t be fucking dramatic Kookie, those kind─”

“Don’t tell me that those kinds of thing only happen in movies because look at you.” He points a finger at you. “I really believed aliens weren’t real.” Raises his brows. Slumps back on the chair. You’re at restaurant Kim. Just finished preparing the place for the day. Now just waiting here for the day to start. You look at Jungkook, pursing your lips. Well, you can’t argue with that.

“Yeah, but.. I don’t, I mean let’s hope something like that won’t happen.” You rub your eyes wearily.

“Hope isn’t going to keep you safe, and I want you, safe. We need to do something.” His voice is stern.

“Like what Kookie?” A sigh leaves your lips. You and Jungkook have been talking about this every minute you could spare. Like you and Jimin once did. Funny where all that planning and talking left you. Jungkook groans in reply to your question. Simply because he knows there’s nothing you can do. After everything that happened, you think that there’s no other way but to wait till answers find you. Exactly the same way how it happened before. It’s not possible to find a woman who dissaperated in front of your bare eyes. In that case, you’re back at square one. You’re in dire need of finding a way to live a life until you find answers. “Look, I really don’t know what I can do for this right now, but I really do need to figure out a way to manage my life.” You blow out a breath. Jungkook furrows his brows.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, I can’t keep waking you up every morning and ask you to pick my distressed ass up.” You genuinely don’t want to be a burden to him. It’s not okay. Besides you’ve learnt your lesson by depending on one guy already. Don’t want to make the same mistake again.  

“Oh, c’mon Noona, we talked about this.” Jungkook whines. Is telling the truth. You did talk. But talking always doesn’t mean you came to a decision.

“We’re still talking. I’m serious about this Kook. I need to find a job, I need money, a place to stay, I need to find a way to support myself.” You put down your fingers as you list the things you need to get done.

“You have a job here.” He gestures around the restaurant. It’s not really a job to be honest. You just lend help in exchange for letting you hang around. And the tips you receive are yours to keep. No fixed payments. “If it’s about the payments, I can talk with Joo─”

“No. No, Jungkook. You’re not going to annoy your friend again because of me. They are doing enough. You’re doing enough. I can’t keep living off you. Can’t keep crashing down on your place. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to find a way to go back.”

“But why? I enjoy having you here.” Jungkook whines. “I can make this job permanent for you.”

You open your mouth to protest. Or more than to snap when the door chime interrupts you. It’s still early and Kim’s don’t offer breakfast. So, you turn your head in expectation to see Namjoon. Who just left probably ten minutes ago. After yapping about how hard his life is to work with his annoying boss. You assume he has forgotten something and is back to pick it up. Only for your eyes to widen at the completely unexpected person at the doorway.

“Hey!” Hoseok waves at you and Jungkook. Is already heading toward the table you’re sitting at when you and Jungkook return the gesture. Barely. Just a slight wave of your hands. “Did someone say something about wanting a job?” Hoseok just causally asks as he pulls a chair to sit down. Next to you. As if this is very normal occurrence in your lives. You both squint your eyes at him.

“Why?” Jungkook is the one who suspiciously raises the question. Staring Hoseok down. The said man looks between you and Jungkook. Twisting his mouth.  

“Maybe because I have an offer.” Shrugs. And you practically throw yourself at him.

“Really?”

“Yes, if you’re interested.” Smiles. Tight lipped. There’s a glint in his eyes. Quite familiar to Jimin. Makes you suspicious instantly. Jungkook steals the attention before you can raise your suspicions, however.

“Why are you here again?” His eyes are just slits at this point. Almost comical.

“Ouch! That’s so fucking rude Kook. Aren’t we friends?” Hoseok gasps. Places his right hand on his chest. You and Jungkook chant ‘No’ in unison. “Wow! That’s even ruder. You guys are such assholes.” Hoseok lets his arm falls down. Pouts. But then is smiling brightly within a split second. “Well, I didn’t come here to offer jobs, but I overheard you guys talking about that. I just saw you two while I was passing by” Gestures to the outside.

“That’s an amazing ear you have. How did you even hear that?” Jungkook wonders while Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows cockily.

“And I’m just being nice. I mean we might not be that close friends, but c’mon I had you at my cottage Jungkook.” Hoseok says that to Jungkook. Good, since he thinks Jungkook was the only one who had been there. Apparently, Jungkook can’t argue with that.

“Yeah, fine whatever, so you overheard, and you just offer jobs like that? To anyone? What are you? A superhero?” Jungkook’s interrogation isn’t over yet. It seems.

“No not for everyone. But for my best friend’s, girlfriend’s, twin sister, I do.” Hoseok’s attention falls entirely on you. You shiver at his intense gaze. Gulp harshly.

“Yeah? Why would you do that?” Ask timidly. Just to earn a shrug.

“Because I’m nice pretty lady. That’s not the question though. The question is what- a daughter of Kim, and Kim Liya’s- the freaking CEO of The SE’s- twin sister, is doing at a restaurant and why does she need a job, or why she needs to find a job herself, when her father can buy her the entire country?” Hoseok quirks his brow in question. And you fight visibly not to contort your face in shock. Not to suck a breath in. Not to gulp down again. Not to rub your suddenly sweaty palms on your jeans.

“I- I uh..” You stutter a bit before your brain kicks something on for you. “I’m the family disappointment. The shame, you know. They don’t want to do anything with me. There’s a reason why you never knew Liya has a sister, a twin.” You breathe out. Lie through your teeth. That’s the thing about lying. Every time you lie it become easier. Hoseok purses his lips. As if in contemplation.

“Yeah? Why did she decided to tell us all of a sudden then?” Questions back.

For fucks sake!

“Because I made an appearance, and no one needs confusions Hoseok. Why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not. I’m just asking out of pure curiosity.”

Or just being nosy. You want to tell that aloud but think it’ll be too rude. Hence, your slight nod. And just throw a nervous glance at Jungkook, catching him give you a nod. In approval, you guess.

“Okay…. so, what is this position you’re offering exactly?” Jungkook shifts the course. Folds his arms in front of his chest. Looks like a concerned father talking with his daughter’s boyfriend. Hoseok hums in answer to that question. Tilts his head. Bites down his pink bottom lip before answering.

“Mm... like uh... an assistant… yeah, that’s it. I am in need of an assistant.” Looks at you proudly. To which you squint your eyes, yet again.

“Wait, why do I get the feeling that this position wasn’t open, up until now?” Jungkook inquires as he leans over the table. Staring at Hoseok.

“It didn’t even exist, to tell you the truth.” Hoseok is so quick to fire back his answer. Too quick that you don’t even catch on to it for a second. Oh, the man is honest at least.

“Wh-what do you mean? You’re making up a job to give me? Why would you do that?” You gape at him in pure disbelief.

“Yeah, and it’s not like she can’t find a job.” Jungkook adds. You nod in agreement. Open your mouth to say that you indeed can do that even though you can’t.

“Well, will any of those pay you three million?” Hoseok leans back in his chair. Your words die in your tongue. Jaw dropping to the floor. See Jungkook’s jaw doing the same through your peripherals.

“Three what?” Jungkook whispers.

 “Million. And five thousand, forgot to say that part.” Hoseok just casually fills in for Jungkook while you and him are just gaping at Hoseok. That’s beyond pay rate for a student. No part time job or an internship will pay you that kind of amount. Hoseok must be crazy. To do all that for you. In fact, you should be very, very suspicious about this. You’re just about to raise those suspicions when Jungkook beat you up to it. Yet again.

“Hire me please.” He almost get to his feet. “I can be a better assistant, I swear.” Say eagerly when your head snaps toward him.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You hiss.

“Yeah, I’m dead serious Noona. I mean I can drop out of college if someone gonna pay me that much. And you don’t have to worry, you know. Let’s get married and I’ll work hard to get promotions and let’s have kids─”

“Oh my god Jungkook, shut the fuck up! And stop saying you want to drop out of college all the time.” You roll your eyes to the back of your head. Jungkook pouts. Slumps. Hoseok snorts, grabbing your attention back to him. “And you? Why are you doing this seriously? Don’t tell me just because you’re nice because no nice person would do this. You barely even know me.” You point a finger at him.

“Because I need an assistant pretty. I told you already. I need someone to work for me, and it seems you need a job. Simple. What’s the problem here?” Hoseok’s words follows another shrug. Actually, you can come with dozen problems here. But Jungkook brings the most concerned one to the table.

“But she can’t work every day.” There’s a pointed look in Jungkook’s eyes now. He sounds concerned. And you know he’s not trying to steal your offer. No, he really do care.

“You can’t? Why is that?” Hoseok looks surprised. Genuinely.

“Sick. I’m sick.” You mutter even without a second thought. See, easy. To become a better liar, all you have to do is practice. That’s the lie you’ve told everyone. Namjoon. His parents. You don’t know if they’ve believed you entirely. What kind of sickness would make you stay away every other day. In the end, you stuck with the lie you made with Park Jimin. You’ve CFS after all. The fact that they all witnessed you reel with pain just aided you with your lie. Poor Jungkook. He has to be a part of every mess you’re creating. All the more reason to find your own life soon. And Hoseok’s offer is tempting. He is awfully quite though. Looking at you blankly. Well, there goes your opportunity. This was the exact reason why finding a job was hard for you. You blink at his face for moment. Then as you’re just about to avert your gaze away and accept that the offer is ruined, he speaks.

“Okay, that’s not a problem. As long as you don’t die.” Smiles brightly. You’re back to gape at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real. Hoseok places his palms on the cold table. “Well, now since that’s settled, move your ass assistant, we have works to do.” Stands up. Looks satisfied. Stares down at you now. Expectantly waiting for you to get up as well.

“Wait what? She needs to start working now? Like now, now?” Jungkook is the one who gets to his feet, in the end.

“Yes, she does. You’re hired pretty woman, c’mon move.” Hoseok bends down to grab your wrist. Yanking you into your feet. You just allow him, ignoring the fact that he had called you pretty too many times. Still very baffled. Jungkook rushes around the table instantly. Walking to you. Effectively grabbing your other hand.  

“You just can’t drag her away.” Says sternly.

“Why not? She’s hired. And her work starts now.” Hoseok points out the fact that you’re hired.

“Bu-but, what’s my job? I don’t even know what I need to do.” You try to stay on your ground as Hoseok tries to drag you away. Jungkook mumbles something similar to ‘exactly’ when Hoseok sighs heavily.

“Really? Even after I offered that much, you’re this hesitant? I thought you wanted a job.”

“I do but tell me what the duties are, Hoseok.”

“Like anything an assistant would do. Anything I asked you to do.” Hoseok jabbers, already trying to turn away when Jungkook tightens his grasp on you.

“Well, that sounds fucking dangerous.” He mutters skeptically. Making Hoseok turns back to face him.

“Relax dad, you got nothing to worry. Promise I will send your girl home by eight sharp. Or nine, maybe ten.” Clicks his tongue. Waves his free hand. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is I’ll make sure your girl is safe, and I won’t ask her to suck my cock. Swear. Man to man.” Turns around again. You scrunch your face up. Jungkook’s cheeks are a bit red now. Embarrassed obviously.  

“B-but─” He stutters again when Hoseok this time turns to you.

“Do you want this or not?” Looks serious. All jokes aside. This is a moment to make a real decision. Well, it’s not that hard. You’re desperate.

“Ye-yeah, I- I do. Yeah. Course I want this.” You find yourself uttering. Paying your attention to Jungkook. To let him know you’re okay. He gives you a nod. You reciprocate. Hoseok grins.

“Then let’s move pretty.”

“What about my clothes though let me change first.” You asks again as Jungkook lets go of your hand.

“You look damn fine.” Hoseok urges you out.

………………………………………………..

No matter how much misery would follow you, you’ll never learn not to make rash decisions. No, you’ll never. Such a stupid, reckless fool. That’s what you are. When something like that happens, your main concern should be about where you would work. But of course, it’s too late when the question pops up in your head. It’s too late when you realize Hoseok indeed works for R.U.N. Too late when you remembered Park Jimin is the CEO of that darn company. It’s certainly too late to turn down your offer when you’re waiting to reach the lobby inside the elevator. Hoseok talking endlessly about something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. Ever since the moment he confirmed, in his own words- ‘of course, we are heading to R.U.N, where else would I work?’- you have not been a part of this world.

Oh god, this is not happening. You did not put yourself in such a hard situation again. There’s a good reason why you didn’t want to see Park Jimin. Even though you were missing him crazy, things were just going fine. The more you stay away from him, the more you can stay sane. The more you stay sane, more chances you’ll not ruin your wishes again. Then here you are. All because you’re reckless. It won’t be possible to hide from him while you’re both in the same space. His space, yet again. You’ll see him certainly. And what will happen then? What will he think when he sees you out of blue like this? It might be you who asked him to stay away- which you regretted on some miserable nights- he was the one who accepted it rather easily. No arguments. No protests. Nothing. Just never was there after that day. Which only means one thing to you. He thinks staying away is the best just like you do. What a great plan. Only that you’re about to ruin it.

“What are you doing? C’mon.” Hoseok’s voice startles you slightly. Making a ‘huh’ slips through your lips as you look at him confused. “We’re here. What are you thinking so hard?” He says again at your stupid state. Only now you’re noticing that the elevator doors are indeed opened. A spacious lobby filled with hurrying around people and sleek minimalistic furniture has emerged. LED walls towering. Some game scene playing on it. Holograph in the middle. Fucking futuristic. And you gasp. Quite loudly that it makes Hoseok chuckles. “What?” Questions but this time drags you away from the elevator. You’re holding it up after all.

“This is fucking... wow...” You whispers the last part quietly.

“Thanks, but we’re already late pretty. This way c’mon.” Hoseok turns to his left. You follow, forgetting Park Jimin for a moment. Eyes wandering around crazily. Grasping everything. Jimin really is something. No, it’s not just him. These people, including the one before you, really are something. And then they would act homeless. Would kill each other for free food. Amazing. Truly.

Hoseok takes your wandering eyes back to him when he suddenly stops. You notice that he has stopped in front of the recipient table. A pretty girl with the most flawless skin you’ve ever seen giggles prettily at something Hoseok says that you don’t catch. Then her eyes flash toward you. It takes her a second but soon her smile drops. A realization drawing upon her face. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what she’s thinking. Especially when a sting at your chest makes you wince painfully. The moment you become sacred that it would get worse, Hoseok saves you. Without knowing it. Probably has read the girl’s expression.

“Oh, that’s not Liya. That’s her sister.” Introduces you properly. “Twins.” Throws a hand around your shoulder. “And is my personal assistant now on. Say Hi, Susi.” Grins. The sting subsides slowly. Girl still looks very confused. You don’t know what she might think of this, but she bows to you, nonetheless. Which you reciprocate. Share a friendly smile with her before Hoseok is ushering you away again. Pulling you inside another elevator. And then you’re going up, up and up. Floor by floor. People rush inside and then outside. Everyone practically bows down to the floor when they see Hoseok. Most people don’t acknowledge you at all. You think someone’s gaze linger on you a little bit more than normal. Yet no one asks anything. There’s a slight pain in your chest. You ignore it. Completely overshadowed by the nervous feeling. Stomach churning and heart pounding. Thin layer of sweat covering your skin. Nervous about what might come next. Not wanting to see the CEO of this prestigious company. Wanting to turn around and run away. Hide.

You can’t hide. Not at all. There’s no place to hide. Before you know, it’s you and Hoseok who are exiting the elevator. Stepping out into another spacious space. No LED displays. No holograms though. Just a simple workplace that screams luxury.

“My office is this way.” Hoseok guides you. You’re not paying much attention to what he says. Head nervously spinning around. In a desperate wish to get away from here soon as possible. Even if it’s into Hoseok’s office. Want to remain a secret. Then you’d be the most fortunate person on earth to have a such escape. Then of course, you are very fortunate, aren’t you? The luckiest. You only get to take two steps toward the direction Hoseok shows, when you are faced with a tall figure. Making you abruptly stop to prevent colliding. Your eyes flicker to the newcomer. Meeting with pair of curious eyes and the lips that made you betray Park Jimin. Jin takes his hands out of his pockets just to point one at you. Surprise evident his face and you brace yourself to meet with the pain when he inevitably would call you Liya now. Only for him to surprise you. Greatly so when he mumbles your name. The name your parents gave you.

“What are you doing here?” Adds that question to the end of your name. He can recognize you like that now? Then nobody could do that when you were pretending to be Liya. Isn’t that funny? But then you think it’s the clothing. Yes, it is. Especially since Jin is eyeing you head to toe. Certain. You believe Liya would never walk into her boyfriend’s company wearing a tight ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie. No, she won’t. Only if Hoseok allowed you to change first. Hoseok answers Jin, on your behalf.

“Oh she? She works here.” Nearly walks away when Jin stops him.

“Wait, what? Since when?”

Hoseok scowls at him. Evidently not enjoying being held back again. “Since now Jin. Now will you please let us go. I haven’t even looked at that damn brief.”

“Of course, you haven’t, and I don’t give a fuck. How does she work here? She works as who?” Jin eyes you again. You feel like shrinking into an ant. Hoseok sighs.

“She works as my assistant. Personal assistant.”

“But why? You have a secretary. Why you need an assistant too?” This time Jin gives you an apologetic look.

“I do, but this is different. A secretary, Hyung, is not an assistant. Total two different people.” Hoseok pats Jin’s shoulder. You watch stupidly as Jin opens his mouth to disagree. But his words die on his tongue when a third voice reaches you. Loud. Right in your ear. Chirpy. And before you know it you are turned around. By a gleaming Taehyung. His hands on your shoulders.

“I knew it’s you.” He bellows as he takes you in. Of course, he did. You give him an awkward but a polite smile. With a slight blow. “What are y─”

“She works here apparently.” Jin doesn’t let Taehyung finish his question. “Hoseok’s assistant.” Gestures to Hoseok. Who looks smug for no reason. Taehyung gasps.

“Wait really? I didn’t know we can do that. I mean if he can, we can too, right? We share the same privileges.”  Taehyung asks Jin. Still holding you by shoulders. Jin gives him a look. Opens his mouth yet again to get interrupted for a second time. Even before he starts. This time the voice that interrupts you comes from distance.

“Hobba.” All four of you snap your heads toward the voice. Taehyung’s hands still on your shoulders. Gaping at the man who rushes forward with his eyes fixed on his phone. You feel everything slows down. Like in a movie. It’s slow when he takes his eyes away from his phone. Pocketing it. A faint smile on his lips. “Did you─” That faint smile drops. He freezes. This time eyes fixed on you. You feel your blood rushes in your body in extra speed. Heart beating in your ears. A painful tug at your chest at the sight of the blonde in front of you. Just few feet away. Feels like it’s been ages since you last saw Park Jimin. Oh, you’ve missed him more than you knew.

This is a fucking mistake.

“Lil?” Jimin breaks the uncomfortable silence which you didn’t know has fell. That must’ve looked really weird how you stared at him. You heart does a leap when he calls you. Mouth goes dry when he comes close. “What, what are you─”

“For the hundredths fucking time, she works here.” Hoseok groans.

“You’re what?” Jimin’s eyes dart between you and Hoseok.

“She’s Hobi’s assistant.” Taehyung fills in. “He says so.” Adds in at the glare Jin throws him.

“Why? What’s the problem? I can’t hire an assistant?” Hoseok asks ever so innocently. To which Jimin furrows his brows. Eyes back on you. You force yourself to smile at him. Bow. Don’t want to appear rude to others.

“Of fucking course, you can’t. Why the hell do we have an HR department if we can hire people like that. I mean I’m sorry─” Jin mutters to you slowly before turning to Hoseok again. Your cheeks flush red. Embarrassed. This is uncomfortable. “But you can’t just drag in people you want.”

“Ugh… fuck you, Jin. She is not hired by the company. She is hired by me. I pay her. She works for me. Nothing to do with the company. Happy?” Hoseok gives all three men, a stern look. Well, you don’t think that justifies this. Makes it okay or fair. Still very against the policies. Still, nobody says anything again. Especially not Jimin. Looks too stunned. You don’t get to watch him longer when Hoseok drags you away. You manage a ‘bye’ right at time.

…………………………………………….

“Okay, this is not good.” You finally stand up from the little comfy couch at Hoseok’s office. Doing absolutely nothing but spinning in circles in your own head. Hoseok lifts his eyes wearily from the tab he has been looking at.

“What’s not good?” He sounds a little bit annoyed. Which you don’t mind. You close the distance between you and him. Standing beside his table.

“Look, what Jin said is totally true.”

“Don’t mind what he says. He has this thing to do the right thing all the time, you know, he is like uh... if you ask him not to eat your food he’ll not.”

“Well, that’s a good thing.”

“What’s good? I mean, who would fucking care?”

“Owner of those food maybe─” You look at him in disbelief. Sigh. “Oh my god, Hoseok, that’s not the point anyway. I mean I got this job very unfairly and everybody must be hating me right now.” You put your hands on the wooden tabletop. Bending down to emphasize what you’re saying. Hoseok finally puts away the tab. Sighs too.

“Who’s gonna hate you when they don’t even know you exist?”

“Oh, really?” You turn your head to the left. Looking out through the glass partition. Catching the man sitting on the table at the far corner of the outer office. Staring at you. Or more glaring than staring. Hoseok’s secretary. The person who rightfully earned that position. Unlike you. He’s been glaring at you for past thirty minutes. Hoseok follows your line of vison. Chuckles. Then takes the little remote from his table. Blinds the secretary’s view. You gasp. “Yah! Why did you do that? Now this might look like something else.”

Hoseok just clicks his tongue. Waves his hand. “Stop nagging sweetheart, so what? You don’t need this job now? Stop worrying so much. I can assure you no one is giving a single fuck as long as you stay away from company matters. Your only concern is me. Speaking of what, you should shut up, I didn’t hire an assistant so she can nag in my ear all day.” Hoseok picks the tab up again. You feel a gentle tug at your heart. Then a heaviness. Someone else’s voice ringing in your head.

Don’t nag all the time lady.

Jimin used to say that to you all the time. Once upon a time where you shared his life almost every other day. And you thought he was being rude. But maybe you do nag too much. You shake your head to force away the unwanted thoughts. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Even though you’re currently at the same space, you think as long as you keep away from him you still can do this. So, you push yourself to keep going.

“Yeah, fine, but at least give me something to do then. I don’t want to get paid for doing nothing.” You straighten up. Your words forcing Hoseok to take away his attention from his work for the second time. He looks more annoyed now. Yet, still knits his brows. Thinks for a moment. Then smiles. Bright.

“Course you should work.” Mumbles. You watch as he picks up a file from his desk. Hands it over to you. You take it hesitantly, not sure what he expects you to do. “Take this to Jimin. I’ve been meaning to send this to him since yesterday. Thanks sweetheart.” Says hurriedly. Another bright smile and almost goes back to his work when you almost shriek.

“What?”

“What?” Hoseok jumps a little in his seat at your suddenly raised voice.

“You want me to do what now?”

Oh, for the sake of the mother of God.

This is not happening. Just as you thought you’d be fine as long as you stay away from him. No. Hoseok is not making you walk toward the very person you’re trying to avoid.

“That’s very concerning. That you’re talking to your boss in that tone.” Hoseok gives you a stern look. Boss. Yes. Of course, that’s what he is. But still, you can’t walk into Jimin. That’s not wise. You can’t do that.

“B-But do- don’t you─”

“I’m paying you for this pretty. You agreed to do whatever I say, as long as my cock doesn’t involve. Will you please do your job now.”

Technically, you agreed to nothing. Hoseok is looking at you with the same stern look, however. In the end, he is your boss. You’re his assistant. Even though you don’t know where your employee rights stand, this looks like something you should do. So, you gulp harsh. Force your maddening heart to calm down. Nod.

……………………………………………

You had no other option but to ask Hoseok’s secretary for directions. You have no idea where you’re headed. Good thing this pissed off man very reluctantly agreed to show you where Jimin’s office is.

“So, you’re Ms. Kim’s sister?” He asks as you walk down a hallway. Beautifully lit up with yellowish light.

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Twins.” You chuckle awkwardly. He scoffs.

“No wonder you land a job like that.”

“Excuse me, but that’s got nothing to do with this. I don’t even work for the company.” Your forced smile drops as you find offense grows inside you. Hence, you use Hoseok’s word.

As long as you stay away from company matters.

“What do you think you’re doing now? Making him coffee?” The secretary asks again but you don’t have the chance to answer when you enter a much larger outer office this time. Your eyes directly landing on the desk in the corner. Occupied by a middle-aged woman. Her’s snaps to you at the sounds of your footsteps. Her eyes instantly going wide as she gets to her feet. No surprise now when your chest ache. You wince in pain as she bows to you deep. You barely manage to bow back as the pain is slowly intensifying. You’re trying your best not to double down or whimper. It’s pure luck that Hoseok’s secretary reaches her table before it can happen. Interrupts her words.

“Ms. Li─”

“This is Mr. Jung’s assistant Mrs. Emi. She is uh... Ms. Kim’s twin sister- as she says, and she is here to deliver a file to Mr. Park. Would you let him know please?” He explains slowly. The woman, Emi, looks at you again. Eyes still wide. Visibly in quite surprise. Fair. Then at the Hoseok’s secretary’s second call she snaps out of it. Another bow. A quite whisper of an apology and she picks up the receiver in her table. Clears her throat. You watch as she mumbles a ‘hello’ the pain starting to subside finally. Fortunately, never reaching its peak point. A clear sign that she believes you’re not Liya. Good. But now there’s a whole new pain inside you. Churn in your stomach. Heart pounding. Feeling a slight discomfort in breathing. Hell, you’re nervous like a leaf in the wind. You absolutely don’t want to walk inside. Don’t want to meet him. Don’t─

“You can go in Ms. Uh... Ms. Kim.” She bows to you again deeply. You didn’t even hear how the conversation went. You let out a breath. Forcing yourself to return the courtesy. To say thank you. To both of them. You want nothing but to turn away and break into a run as you walk toward the closed wooden door. You really are regretting every life decision as you grip the door handle. You want to know how to dissaperate as you twist it. You desperately and stupidly wish he would not be inside as you push open the door. Take a one deep breath in and you fully open it. Step inside before you can change your mind. This is fine. It’s just Jimin; you know him. What could possibly go wrong.

Everything.

Oh yes, every fucking thing. The moment you let the door close behind you in a soft thud and your eyes avert to the desk right in front of you. To the man standing there. You know everything can easily go wrong. That painful tug in your chest comes twice powerful this time. Makes a lump in your throat. You try to swallow that down. Fruitless. You’re not able to push this weird painful sensation away. Not when you can see him like this finally. See, you’ve missed him dearly. Like he’s a part of you. You’ve missed those brown orbs. You’ve missed that blonde hair. You’ve missed those soft, pink lips. You’ve missed Park Jimin. And he is not helping that pain by staring at you like you’ve cast a spell on him. Is making it worse by inhaling shaky breath. As if he’s not been breathing up until now. Like he needed to see you to breath. Surely that can’t be true. No, it’s not. You’re imagining things.

“Lil.” Jimin breaks the trance. His voice hoarse. Steps away from his opulent desk. Nearly walks toward you. You mentally scold yourself to put your shit together.

“Uh.. Hoseok, sorry, Mr. Jung wanted me to give this to you.” You step forward as well. Not allowing him to make it to you. Meeting him in the middle of the spacious office room. Hold out the file in your hand. Hoping Jimin would take it quickly so you can disappear. He doesn’t. Instead, peer at your face.

“Lil, what’s happening?” Questions. Doesn’t make any effort to take the file away.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“How are you- uh- how did he─”

You save him from his misery. “It just happened. It was very quick, I know. I’m surprised too but yeah, it happened.” You try your best to avoid his gaze. It does things to you. Makes you weak.

“Yeah? And you took the job like that?” There’s no accusations in his tone. No anger. Just asking. You shrug.

“Yes, I did. I mean, I needed a job. I can’t live off Jungkook forever.”

“I could’ve helped─”

“You don’t have to do that Jimin. There’s a reason why I asked you not to run around trying to take care of me. You- uh- you have a life, and I don’t want to be the reason it gets ruined. Besides, I can take care of myself quite well. I got a job now and Hoseok pays me well. I think this is good unless- uh… if you don’t want me to work here like obviously it’s your company.” You nearly bite your tongue as you realize you’re rambling. A nervous tick.

“No, no. I mean, uh- you’re his assistant… yeah, it’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head furiously. You finally take the courage to turn your head a little upward. Catching his gaze. Taking a good look at him. Feeling the tug intensifies. It’s been just few weeks. Then why do you feel like you’ve not seen him for years. Why do you notice these simple changes in him. Were those black roots always there? Did he always have those dark circles? Why doesn’t his lips are a bit pale? Is he sick? How might he have been?

You feel your hands itch. Itch to do what? You’ve no idea. You feel your lips tingle. That spell falling up on you two again. You should’ve never found the courage to look at him. Your heart is now beating erratically. Funny how you’ve not noticed how close you are. Your tummy has started do those weird flips. Oh, no this is not good. You promised yourself that you’re going to make it right. This, after all, is about to make it worse, yet again. You need to leave from his presences. Immediately.

“This. He wanted me to give it you.” You jerk your hand forward. Snapping your eyes away from him. Nearly push the file into his chest when he grabs it. “I- I should go. Thank you, Mr. Park.” You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster than you do now. Turning around and leaving without another single glance. Not allowing Jimin to say anything else.  

………………………………………..

When you returned to Hoseok’s office, you were shaking. Heart beating madly and in desperate need of water. Which led you to gulp down an entire bottle in one go. Making Hoseok worried that you might’ve met a ghost on your way. It had taken you more than thirty fucking minutes to calm yourself down. Twenty minutes inside the ladies’ room and ten minutes sitting in Hoseok’s couch. Staring blankly at a gaming character that covers an entire wall. Right across from the couch. You had to talk yourself out of it. Convincing. That it’s all going to be all right. That you can survive through this. Well, you were more than fine till you actually met him. So, as long as you don’t have to see him again, you’re going to be okay. You’re going to go home successfully without committing any more sins. And then all you have to do is make sure you’re following the same procedure in the future as well.

Easy. So easy. At least it should’ve been if everything had gone according to plan. According to how you’ve planned it in your head. A perfect plan to avoid Jimin at all costs. Which went down the drain just after that thirty minute. All the pep talk you gave yourself becoming null and void when Hoseok hands you a second file. His request simple.

“Would you mind taking this to Jiminie, sweetie.”

…………………………………………..

You minded. You minded, a lot. In fact, you didn’t want to do it at all. Yet you had to. Just like how you had to do it the third time. Like how you didn’t want to the fourth time, but you still did. Then the fifth time. You were positively losing your mind at the sixth time. Then this is the seventh time. Hell, even Jimin looks at you like you’re crazy when you put a to-go coffee cup on his table.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jimin mutters, confused as you sigh. You look at the lines that appeared between his brows. He keeps his eyes on the coffee cup for a moment before looking at you. Expecting answers. As if you would know. See, it has been draining to walk between Jimin’s and Hoseok’s office fourteen times already. Seven times to Jimin, and seven times back. Yes, it is. You’ve even become annoyingly aware how large this one floor is. Then it’s uncomfortable how you had to face Emi seven times. Pretty awkward when you asked her to let her boss know you have returned. Again. But those are not problems for you. No, not at all. The problem is how your poor plan is miserably failing. It hasn’t even been a day yet. Why is it so hard to avoid just one person. Each time you visited Jimin, you stayed a minute longer than before. That is your problem.

You didn’t share smiles let alone laughter. There were no friendly words but just polite ones. Still, you said a word more each time. This is not good.

“You don’t have to bring me coffee Lil. Why are doing that?” Jimin speaks again at the lack of your response.

“Yeah, I know.”  

“Then why are doing it? Say no. You’re his assistant not mine.”

“Yeah, but he just wanted to send you a coffee. A friendly gesture. That’s it.” You shrug. Then straightly rub your forehead. Annoyed.

“Bullshit! That motherfucker has never once sent me a coffee in my life. Like what? Am I dying that he’s so concerned now? He could’ve emailed me that stupid letter, but he sent you over for it?  What is he thinking? Say no Lil, you don’t have to do all his stupid shit just because he’s paying you.” Jimin pushes the coffee back. “Please tell me he hasn’t send you all over the building.” Suddenly sounds so concerned. You shake your head slightly.

“No, no. It’s just you. I’ve been walki─”

“He hasn’t sent you to others?” Jimin interrupts you. Taking your curious attention on him as he furrows his brows even deeper. Giving you a suspicious look. “What about Taehyung?” Questions. You slowly shake your head again. Starting to mirror his expression as your own brows start to merge.  A realization starts to build up in your head. “Jin? Anyone else?” He is looking straight into your eyes. You give him another shake of your head. This time firmer. Precise. You’ve finished connecting dots in your head.

That little sneaky bastard!

“That little shit!” Jimin voices exactly what goes inside your head. You don’t say anything to him though. Just curse under your breath as you clench your jaw. Turn around your heels fast. Starting to practically run toward the door. Ignoring whatever Jimin is saying.

……………………………………………….

You ignore the sneaky side eye that Hoseok’s secretary gives you as you storm past him. Barging inside Hoseok’s office. Glad that his secretary still can’t see how you march toward his- and technically your- boss’ table. Like a madwoman. Fury running through your veins as you slam your palms on the tabletop. Causing Hoseok to startle and recoil against the chair. Eyes comically wide.

“What the fuck? Wh- wha─”

“What are you fucking playing at, Jung Hoseok.” You save him from having to stutter over his words. Looking directly at his wide eyes.

“Wh-what the hell─” He lets out a breath. Straightening up. As if he finally realized he got scared by you. Composes himself before speaking again. “What happened? You got possessed or something?”

“No, but I will if you don’t tell me what you are up to Hoseok. I don’t care that you’re my boss, you can keep you damn job.” You lean in closer. Hoseok scowls.

“I think you’re possessed. And you’re frightening.” He gulps slowly. In a different context, you would’ve laughed at that. Now though, you only glare at him harder. “I mean, what are you talking about? I’m up to what?” He sounds innocent. Innocent that you almost believe him. But you don’t.

“Oh, c’mon, cut the crap now Hoseok. You’ve been sending me to Jimin purposefully for no reason. Just to send me there, and I would like to know why? What are you up to.” You scowl harder at your own words when his scowl disappears. A ghost of a smile dances on his lips. Eyes lightly glinting.

“What made you think so? Because I assure you that I did not do such thing. You’re my assistant and I’m assigning you jobs. Thought that’s what you wanted.”  His confidence is back. That startle and confused look far gone.

“Oh yeah? Then how come I haven’t visited Jin or Taehyung yet? Or anyone else in that case. And I think Jimin clearly told me that you’ve never sent him a coffee before and you could’ve mailed him that letter.” You recite what Jimin told you exactly. Knowing very well they prove you right. Only that it doesn’t make Hoseok’s faint smile go away but makes it wider.

“Ah! So, that’s why it’s taking too long for you to come back. You’ve been chit-chatting with your sister’s boyfriend.” Hoseok grins this time. You really don’t like the way he put weight on the word boyfriend. No do you like how his eyes sparkle. As if he’s expecting good news. As if he knows the news is going to be good beforehand.

“N-no.. I mean, I wasn’t taking too long Hoseok. He just told me.” You feel uneasy suddenly. It wasn’t true. Even though you might’ve stayed a minute longer each time, you didn’t stay there for Hoseok to notice. Let alone worry.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not scolding you here. I mean you can chit-chat with him all the much you want. I don’t care as long as you do your job.” He pushes away the tab he’s been hunched over for the entire morning. You open your mouth to defend yourself. Feeling stupid at how the tables has changed so quickly. You’re the one to stutter now. Yet Hoseok stops you before you can say anything. “Since that’s done now. Do you like to join us at Lunch pretty? I hope Jin ordered Chinese today.” He tilts his head in expectation while he stands up. You’re stupidly gaping at him though. Raking your brain for a good comeback. A way to return to your point since there’s no denying that Hoseok did that. Sent you to Jimin deliberately.

“No, I mean, I wasn’t chit-chatting with him. A-and don’t call me nick names Hoseok.” That’s what leaves your mouth. Stupid. Isn’t the point nor the problem here. But it is still something that budge you. So, you’ll get it over with since it’s out in the open now. “I have a name. Jesus what’s with the men in my life giving me nicknames─”

“Yeah? Like what, Lil?” Hoseok cuts you down midsentence. Your words freeze in your tongue as your eyes dart to his face. He is on his feet now. Hands inside his pant pocket. Is poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Looks coy. Kind of remind you of Jimin when he’s amused.

“What?” You question foolishly. Feeling your mouth starting to dry.

“You said men in your life give you nicknames. So, like what nicknames? Like the one Lil?” Asks the same thing again. Is calm. Composed. Certainly, knows what he’s at. You feel a light pound in your head. No words coming to your smart mouth this time. Only gape at him when he mumbles your real name. Once. Twice. “No matter how hard I would think, your name doesn’t go anywhere close to the name Lil. You know when I first hear Jimin call you that, I really thought it was shortened for Liya. Cause it sounds similar. But then Lil, I’m positive I’ve never heard him call Liya by that name. Not before you or not after you. Because he doesn’t call her Lil. He calls you Lil.” Hoseok raises his brows. You yet again open your mouth for words that never leaves your mouth. “Don’t even try to deny it, he called you Lil even this morning. How stupid are you two? How stupid do you think we are? For not to pick up on something so obvious.” Hoseok steps away from his desk. Walks toward you. Forcing you to take a step back. His coy expression morphed into something serious. “Your stupid lies are so obvious Lil. Should I call you so? Why not huh? Even your sister’s boyfriend call you so.”

“No. I mean yes.” You suddenly blurt. Inhaling a sharp breath. Think that staying silent is a stupid way of giving away. You need to at least try. Try to deny. “I- I mean, th-that’s my nickname…” Your words trail away. Hoseok’s lips breaking into a yet another cocky smile as you regret your entire existence. Just not your decisions. Should’ve stayed silent. Hoseok scoffs.

“Yeah? So, you admit it then?” Questions. You don’t answer. Just stay there rooted to the floor. Admitting is what you just did. You were supposed to do it the other way around. Denying. “You admit that’s your name? So, I wasn’t mistaken then. That’s how Jimin called you at the cottage. It was you.” Hoseok’s gaze is piercing. How stupid of you to just give away everything like that. And then here you thought you were getting better at lying. What a huge mess you are in? “I mean nobody with eyes and ears need that to know you weren’t her Lil. I- we knew her for almost as long as we knew Jimin.” Another chuckle. “And did that stupid shithead friend of mine thought he can fool us like that. You were- are nothing like Liya. You can be twins, but you guys are complete opposites.”

So, he still believes you are twins.

Then at what he’s getting at. You try not to wander your gaze away from Hoseok. To maintain eye contact. Gulping harshly as you can feel your heart in your throat. Sweat breaking in your skin. You try to come up with something. Another good lie. In vain, though. Your brain is empty. Completely empty at Hoseok’s mercy. All you can do is utter a weak question. In your hoarse voice. “Wh-why are you doing this? What do you want Hoseok?” You ignore what he’s been saying. There’s no point. This is Stupid. Taunting. Agonizing. Yet you stand there. Praying that this could not go any worse than this. Hoseok’s face softens for a moment. He takes a step forward again.

“What I need? I don’t know. Maybe it’s fun to see you two idiots squirm at each other’s presence like teenagers. Trying so hard to act like you don’t know one another that well─”

“That’s not true.” You finally find your voice. Your brain finally starts to work. Processing things and coming up with ways to escape. “Okay, so what if it was me, Hoseok? It’s not like─”

“It was you. Stop trying to deny. I’m not an idiot like you think. And before you come with another stupid lie, I hope you cleaned my kitchen island after you did- whatever you did.” Hoseok grits. Turns away from you. A loud gasp leaving your mouth. Jaw hanging open as you feel your entire body heats.

Oh god no. That’s what he’s getting at.

You really expect Hoseok to leave you in your miserable pit of shame. But unfortunately, he isn’t done confronting you. Isn’t done taunting you. “Trust me you don’t even want to know what I heard. But for what it’s worth, he kept saying the name Lil, not Liya. I was fucking drunk that day, but I know what I heard. Besides, Jimin acts completely different with you.” He turns around to face you again. You don’t look at him this time. Buring in shame and wanting to crawl up to a hole, you keep your eyes on your shoes. Still, Hoseok continues. “Maybe, I want Jimin to fucking see that he’s damn suffering. Maybe I want him to know he can do all these alone. And do you want to know why you’re here?” Asks but doesn’t wait for your reply. “I’m using you Lil. And you won’t back away.”

With that, he finally leaves you to bury yourself deep in your misery.

………………………………….

You won’t back away

Hoseok had said. Yet in reality, you know he has no power over what you decide to do ultimately. It’s not like he threatened you. No. He didn’t do such a thing. In the end, he can’t threaten you without doing the same to Jimin. If anyone’s going to be in a tight spot if Hoseok decides to bring the matter up, it would be Jimin. And you know for a fact that Hoseok loves him. Hence, nothing to worry about. You can give Hoseok the middle finger. Turn around and leave. You’ll find a way to solve the rest of your problems after that.

But the problem is that you haven’t done just that. That you’ve already worked there for three days. You haven’t turned around nor have you shown your middle finger to Hoseok. This time though, you know the exact reason why you’re still Hoseok’s assistant. Simple. Even though it’s embarrassing, the reason is the CEO of the RUN. See now, you knew Jimin is always going to be a reason to stay. The same way he’s the reason why you’re waking up in most random places and living a life where you could be dead in the next minute, he is the reason why you’re still tolerating Hoseok’s stupid tasks.

After the confrontation, you really planned on giving up. It was too embarrassing to face Hoseok after that anyway. Then you had walked out of his office. With no specific purpose. Just to stop your walking in the lobby. Because two men had interrupted your panicky mind going haywire. You had watched Taehyung saying something to Jimin. Something that is supposed to be amusing since he laughed hard. Jimin didn’t. Just a chuckle, before he shift his eyes mindlessly toward where you stood. Catching you staring. A warm smile tugging on his lips. That smile tugging on your heart. That pull you always felt. Making the world blur.

Then there were you on the next day at your apartment, convincing yourself that you’re just preparing work appropriate cloth just because there can be an emergency. Not because you planned on reporting to assistant duties at all. Then there were you at Hoseok’s office, convincing yourself, you’re there to resign formally. That formal resignation apparently took a whole day. You had to postpone it for another day. Then another.

That’s how you finally made peace with the fact that you’re not going to resign. No. You feel like a schoolgirl who hates school with passion but attends every day because his teacher is her crush. No. That can’t be. Jimin isn’t your crush. You’re not that stupid. Still, he’s the reason. You cherish every single moment you get to be in his presence. Every little and polite smile you share. Every word you exchange. Even though those words are anything but personal. Still, in the end, you like how you feel your stomach flip and heart flutter every time you see him. Then, isn’t that how someone would feel when they see their crush?

You groan audibly. Letting your head fall into your palms. Keeping it there as if it can solve your problems.

“Why the long face?” Jungkook’s sudden voice makes you raise your head. You catch him poking his head inside his kitchen. Hair still wet after his shower. Then he reveals his whole body to you. Enters the kitchen with a towel still around his neck.

“Are you telling me, I have a long face?” You smile softly.

“Yeah, your chin is touching your feet. It’s normal though, you’re an alien after all.”

“Fuck you Jeon.” Both of your soft chuckles fill the silent kitchen. You feel Jungkook stands beside you a second before his hands are on your shoulders. During the brief time you shared in his space, you’ve grown accustomed to the fact that Jungkook is touchy. He would squeeze you. Tickles you. Pick you up. And occasionally would start massaging your shoulders like now. Random. Everything about Jeon Jungkook is random. Like that mattress on his living room. You had moved yourself from his couch to that mattress. Eventually, it came in handy. You hum in affirmation when he starts to squeeze your shoulders softly.

“No but seriously, what’s the problem? Is that shithole giving you a hard time? He promised me he wouldn’t.”

“Nah uh, he promised you he won’t make me suck his cock.” You correct him. Eye lids slowly closing.

“Well, it’s still similar to it if he’s making you do all his stupid stuff. And he hasn’t made you suck his cock, right?” Jungkook’s hands freeze for a moment. You chuckle.

“What are you gonna do if he do that?”

“I don’t know. Making sure he won’t get his cock sucked ever again.”

“Okay, I don’t want to think what that means. But no, don’t worry. He’s just a tough boss.” And he knows your dirtiest secret. When you had asked him if anyone else knew. Or if anyone else has picked it up. He simply said that he has no idea. But his best guess was that anyone with a brain should. Still, no one except Hoseok confronted you. So, you’re assuming rest of your friends are brainless. Easy that way.

“Yeah? So, he still makes you run around the office?” Jungkook stops rubbing your shoulders just to sit next to you. It’s really silly how you two would sit in this same spot every night you’re here and recite everything that happened in your day. Except for the parts you can’t tell. Honestly, you haven’t told anyone about that. Not even Jimin knows. You don’t think you should run to him every time something goes wrong. And no have you told Jungkook either. “If it’s too hard you can quit you know. We can always come up with another idea.” Jungkook adds when you keep your silence.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just─” You look at your hands on your lap. You’re about to lie again. This isn’t about work at all. It’s about your stupid obsession with Jimin. It’s about your inability to make a decision. And you’re keep staying in that uncomfortable situation just because you want to see him. Fuck your life!

“Noona?”

“It’s just Hoseok knows it was me at the cottage back then and- and... then he... uh... you know Jimin and I─” Your words cut down when Jungkook harshly turns you around to face him. His eyes wide. You didn’t mean to tell him. Yet it feels good to have someone to shoulder some burdens with you.

“He knows? How?”

You peer at his eyes before slowly starting to explain how things went. He listens intently.  “And is he fucking black mailing you? Is that it?” Asks in the end. You shake your head.

“Of course, no. He hasn’t done something like that. But he told me that I won’t back away now.”

“Yah! That’s what you call black mailing. He threatened you. That’s it I’m gonna make sure he won’t get his dick sucked ever again.” Jungkook looks ablaze. Not believing you have disregarded that. So, you have to show him the reasons how it’s not really a threat. How it would ruin Jimin more than you if Hoseok do something stupid. “Then what the fuck he wants with you?”

“I don’t kn-know.” You don’t honestly. When he told you, he’s using you, it made no sense to you. It still doesn’t. What did he mean when he said, Jimin acts differently with you. This is a part you haven’t told Jungkook. Good thing since he would really go search for ways to make Hoseok dickless. “But I don’t care you know.” You add. Smiling. “Comparing to the pay, running around the office is nothing.” Shrug. Jungkook still looks unconvinced though. So, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, c’mon don’t look so tense. That’s Hoseok, he can’t blackmail me. He asked me to take this tiny bug out the other day. Man was scared for his life. Trust me the most he can do is making me get him a coffee every thirty minutes.”

A tiny smile appears on Jungkook’s lips. It doesn’t take long for it to stretch into a grin. And then a laugh.

“Okay, I would trust you to kick his balls if he tried anything funny.” At last, he sighs. Just to compose himself after laughing.

“Course, you can.” You assure. Watching him getting to his feet. But bends down again to your level.

“Do you wanna bake something?” Questions out of nowhere.

“What? Now? Do you know how to bake?”

“No, but that’s why we have technology. C’mon, it’s going to be fun.”

Random Jeon Jungkook.

…………………………………………..

Fun it is. Too much fun in fact. It was exhilarating to go grocery shopping at night to buy what you needed to bake- as Jungkook says- Kook’s bliss. You made sure to gag every time he said the name. The guy wasn’t discouraged a bit, however. He keeps calling the cupcakes Kook’s bliss and is ecstatic about what you’re doing. You can see him visibly buzzing.

“Okay, we need to preheat the oven first.” You squint at the video to read the subtitles. Not that you can’t understand what she’s saying but you need to make sure you’re preheating the oven for the right temperature and time. “And then we have to mix all this stuff up.”

“Like that? It’s easy. Like eating cake.” Jungkook places his hands on his hips confidently.

“Uh huh. Let’s see about that.” You turn around to meddle with the oven, handing over the phone to Jungkook so, he can start.

“Okay, here we go, baby. Mixing everything up.” You can hear him mumble to himself. Makes you smile to yourself. You straighten up and turn around after setting the oven to preheat.  Pay your full attention to Jungkook. Walking right beside him at the right time when he start pouring the buttermilk to the bowl.

“You already mixed the baking powder and all? That was quick.” You say to him as you pick the phone up again. This time to check how to make the frosting. Only to get distracted when Jungkook suddenly stops. Head snapping toward you. “What?” You ask.

“Am I supposed to mix that first? Wait, is there an order? You told me we just have to mix everything up.” His eyes leave your face to stare at the bowl. Blankly. Stupidly.

“You didn’t?” You lean forward to peer at the bowl too.

“No, it’s just flour there. And I’m adding milk to it.” He shows you the obvious. You have to clear your throat to hide the annoying groan that is about to leave.

“Uh.. I’m pretty sure she told to whisk the flour, salt, and something else before milk. Evenly mixing or something.”

“Fuck, now what? We throw this away.” Jungkook’s eyes are too wide. Glints. Shifts those eyes to. Catching your own which are wide with disbelief.

“Nooo… Jungkook. That’s such a waste.”

“What are we gonna do then?”

“We’re gonna keep going, like─” You shrug, giving him a thoughtful look. “It’s not like it would make a huge difference now, will it? We would still be able to eat it. Let’s keep going huh?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply to you in words. Do it in a shrug before pouring the rest of the milk into the bowl. Well, it seems like you’re up to a good start here. Very good one indeed. Where you threw the instructions away as you start doing it in your own way. Turning everything into a funny mess. It definitely started with Jungkook putting the wrong foot forward, but you are the one who make the first mess. Accidentally, bursting open a packet of baking powder making the contents puff out. Showering you and Jungkook in the white dust. Filling the air with coughs that turn into roaring laughter soon after. Then it’s laughing more than working. Too much laughing since you’re wiping the tears away now when you finally put the cupcakes- or whatever you made- in the oven. You had to preheat the oven twice.

“Do you think they will be safe to eat.” You ask Jungkook after wiping your eyes with your T-shirt sleeve. Two of you are peering inside the oven through its tempered glass. Both of your hair still covered in white substances. So do the parts of your faces. The tip of Jungkook’s nose is adorably white at this moment. You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Can’t guarantee. Maybe we should take some to Joonie and J, I refuse to die alone.”

“You’re not dying alone, you have me.”

“True, but do you want to be stuck with me forever? Joonie can be a good distraction when you get bored of me.”

“Sounds like a plan. Maybe I should take some to Hoseok as well.”

“Please don’t. Why would you want him to annoy your ass even after you die.”

You straighten up as another laugh leaves your lip. Jungkook follows your movements. Grinning from ear to ear. This sure is a good distraction for you stressing up mind. You feel fairly relaxed now. Not that you’re fooled that it’s going to last. Know it’s temporary simply. Yet, it’s good. You plop into a stool when Jungkook suddenly perks up.

“What’s that song? I like it.” He points at your phone.

“Yeah?” You look at the device as well. It’s your phone from your world. Your offline playlist on shuffle. Jungkook wanted to listen to alien music. Taylor swift’s Paper Rings has changed into Justin Bieber’s 2U. “Ah, that’s To You. Justin Bieber.” You answer his question casually when he snatches your phone away with great interest.

“I like this.” Mumbles to himself. Unlocks your phone to look at the album cover. Takes his moment listening to the song. Justine Bieber’s voice flowing across the kitchen.

When it comes to you,

Don’t be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you, comes to you.

Jungkook gasps. Those doe eyes blinking at your face. Are glinting madly. “I like this dude.” Says with such wonder that you nearly think he just fell in love.

“He was my teenage crush.” You let Jungkook know for no reason when he puts down the phone back. Walks toward you.

“Who’s your crush now?” Asks but doesn’t let you answer when he effortlessly pulls you to your feet. It’s good that you don’t get to answer. You don’t have a crush. At least, not someone other than Park Jimin.

Holy fuck, he is not your crush.

You mentally scold yourself as Jungkook places his hands over your waist.

“Okay, what are you doing?”

“Dancing.” He scrunches that white nose. You giggle when he makes you do a swirl.

“Really? This is so stupid.” You don’t mean that. Are having a hard time trying to keep your giggles controlled.

“That’s the best part Noona. Because it’s stupid.”

Random. Oh, so random. But you like it.

You like someone else other than Jimin in this world. You don’t want any more reason to stay. Yet Jungkook is slowly making a special place in your life. Is creating one more reason to love this life. It’s not that you have a choice but to return anyway. In that case, just avoiding Jimin won’t make it easy for you. Maybe it’s such a waste that you will not have any more memories with the person who you want to create them the most.

It'll be a waste. Surely.

………………………………..

Jimin had just one thing to do. One. And it wasn’t easy. Respecting your wishes not to see him again. You explicitly asked him to do so. Oh, it cut him when you said that. When you asked him to stop worrying about you. When you reminded how much of a prick he was to do so when he was committed to another woman. Then it wasn’t really his fault you popped into his life again, is it? True, he has been ecstatic to know you were hired. Even though it felt wrong and is wrong like Jin says. Even though you’re Hoseok’s assistant and not his. Even though, he knows Hoseok is into something. Still, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. Except for the time he woke up to see you adorably mumbling in your sleep.

 You don’t talk to him much. You always keep it professional. He hasn’t seen that pretty smile or heard those pretty giggles. Sure, you two have these strange moments where you would just stare at each other. Jimin swears he can see that starry night inside your eyes then. Only for a split second, however. You would always snap your eyes away from him. Then would dash away.

Oh, how bad he misses you. How desperate he is to see that smile. Giggles. How he is itching to just reach you whenever you’re in his vicinity. Close. He doesn’t need much. Just a touch of your soft skin. A fleeting brush of your lips in his. That would be more than enough. What’s wrong with him? It’s scary how he’s getting slowly obsessed. How he’s grinning stupidly when Mrs. Emi informed of your presence. How he feels like a boy again. Waiting patiently for his school crush. He forgets who he is. Feels bubbly and buzzing. It’s becoming torture to wait till you finally let those walls down. Till you call him Park again in your adorable, annoyed voice. Till you pout hard.

Oh fuck!

It’s not that he’s getting slowly obsessed. He is obsessed. How else he would explain driving to Kim’s, hopefully just to catch a glimpse of you. He promised himself he would drive away the moment he saw you. Then he ended up waiting there for hours. Like a creep. Watching you sauntering around. Serving tables and smiling wide. It had made him grin widely alone. To see your smile. Though, it wasn’t for him. Nine out of ten times it was for Jungkook. The dude following you like a lost puppy. Annoying. Gets Jimin’s blood boiling. Another reason why he’s happy now you have a job. You’ll never accept his help but since Hoseok pays you well now- despite whatever his intentions are- you’ll be able to move out soon. And he gets to see you every other day, like how he used to. Everything feels like going damn well. In reality, however, it’s not.

He understands why you asked him to stay away. You are a dangerous woman after all. It’s becoming unbearable with every passing day. With each day he’s getting closer and closer to losing control. For a fact, he knows one of these days, he’s definitely going to kiss you hard until you both can’t breathe. And that’ll be how it all goes down the hill again. That’s how mad you drive him. Especially since now you’re fully into this assistant thing. Wears damn button downs. And pencil skirts. He’s a man. A man who is incredibly attracted to you in that case. You always make his brain short circuit.

No difference for today, when he catches you step outside the elevator while he’s about to head off to Jin. You’re juggling with way too many some kind of boxes in your hand. Jimin’s eyebrows instantly merges at the sight. Especially, when Hoseok is stepping out right beside you with his hands beautifully free. Jimin is about to reach you. His mouth already open to yell at his dear friend when Taehyung beats him up to it. Emerging from nowhere.

“Yah! Hyung! Really? You’re letting her carry all this alone. What are you? Insensitive demon?”  Taehyung already reaches for the boxes you’re carrying when you skillfully avoid him. Makes Hoseok snorts.

“Try dealing with this stubborn hag Taehyung─”

“Yah!”

Jimin watches as your protests get ignored by his two friends. Well, he can’t argue with that one. Makes perfect sense if it was you who insisted on carrying all those by yourself.

“You think I gave her those? She nearly bit my hand in front of Susi when I tried to help her.” Hoseok throws an incredulous look at you. You smirk devilishly. Jimin feels his lips stretching into a smile. Of course, you did. Taehyung gasps.

“Really? You have a bite kink?”

“Oh, yeah, you want me to try it on you.” You take a step toward Taehyung. Probably assuming he would be scared and step away. Only to find out that Taehyung is looking at you expectantly. You don’t know his friend well, it seems. You stop, realizing it’s not going according to your plan. Scrunch your nose.

“Well, what did I expect.” Mumble to yourself.

“Will you put those down. Please?” Hoseok interrupts you concernedly. You’re torturing yourself with those. Jimin can’t hear what you say to that but in a minute, you’re doing swirl. And walking backward in his direction. Waltzing. Hoseok giving you his signature judgmental look while Taehyung is grinning widely. Both of their eyes going past you and landing on Jimin. Finally, acknowledging his presence there. Taehyung raises his hand in a wave to him. Jimin nearly returns it when his eyes swift back to you. Right at the moment your back bump into his shoulder. Unexpected for you. Jimin has no time to move away either. You’ve already collided with him and are losing your balance. It’s too late when Jimin springs into action. Trying to grab you, when you fall back. All the boxes you’ve been carrying, flying into the sky before they fall on to you. A shriek leaves your mouth followed by a loud thud.

You curse aloud one time before it all goes into silence. Just Jimin dumbly staring at you who is lying there on the marble floor. Eyes scrunched shut and face contorted in pain. You open your eyes slowly. Catching Jimin’s eyes on you. Staring back at him. Face slowly starting to change color to a deep scarlet. Adorable. Oh, so fucking adorable.

“You’re flashing us.” Taehyung’s sudden voice grabs Jimin’s attention. He snaps his head toward him. Then back to you. You just slightly raise your head from the floor to look at them. Sure enough, you’re just doing that. That damn skirt has ridden up. To add more to it you’re bending your knees. Jimin has to gulp harshly first before glaring at his two friends. Who are shamelessly and obviously staring at you with their mouth hanging open.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You hastily mutter as you try to get up. On your wobbly knees.

“Fuck off!” Jimin shouts at his friends meanwhile. Since they don’t look like going anywhere.

“What?” Taehyung asks Jimin first. “Do you need help baby?” Asks you, already starting toward you when Hoseok luckily grabs from his arm.

“No, she doesn’t you little shit.” Hoseok states as he starts to drag Taehyung away. Good. Jimin is glad.

“Why not? Yah! This is very rude.”

“No, it is not. You’re shameless, you know?”

“As if you’ve looked away.”

Their voices trailed off down the hallway. Giving Jimin the chance to pay attention to you. You’re already on your feet. Hastily collecting what you’ve dropped.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.” You softly mumble. Jimin bends down next to you. Helping you to collect the littered items.

“No, you didn’t, because you were dancing.” He doesn’t mean to embarrass you anymore, but you look like you’re about to explode. It’s completely unintentional how he grabs your hand, stopping you from picking up your fourth box. Makes you straighten up. Your wide eyes peering into him as you struggle to hold three boxes with one hand. Jimin should let your hand go. So, you can hold them properly. He doesn’t. He can’t. Your hand is soft in his. Feels like the first time he’s touching you. Squeezes it. “You’re red.”

“Huh?” You squirm slightly under his gaze. Look like you want to hide your face behind your hands. They are both occupied, however.

“Lika a tomato.” Jimin ignores your struggle. Hopes you remember calling him a tomato. “Cute” Adds as he finally let go of your hand. Not because you can hold the damn boxes properly. Because he wants his both hands to take them from you. You don’t even protest. Look thunderstruck. Isn’t it amazing how he can do that to you. Makes his head spin to think. You gape at him for few seconds. Then you’re doing it. Pouting. Fuck he wants to press his lips into yours.

“I swear to god, if you laugh, Park…”

You’re calling him Park. Not Mr. Park. No professionality. In your annoyed adorable voice. And Jimin thinks his heart is about to leap away from his poor rib cage. Isn’t it amazing how you can do that to him. He has to bite down on his lower lip to act like he is in fact not about to laugh.

“I- I’m not laughing.”

“Well, you’re about to.”

“I’m not Lil. Where do you want this to go?”

“To Hoseok’s. I’m gonna kick your ass if you laugh.”

That’s the final straw. He can’t help but let it out. Can’t help but laugh hard. You’re glaring at him hard. For a moment. Then the corners of your mouth are twitching as well. You try your best to suppress it but fail. Fail miserably when a chuckle escapes you.

“Fuck you, Park. Fuck you.” Say through your pretty giggles as you leave him. Knowing very well, he would follow.

………………………………………

“What’s in here anyway?” Jimin curiously questions you as he puts the boxes down.

“I have no idea. He had them in his trunk.” You answer honestly. Your laughter had finally died down and the situation slowly sinking into you. You and Jimin had finally broken the barrier of being professional. Back to calling him Park. Back to bickering. Back to being in the same spaces without trying to run away. All it took was a slip on your foot and a minute. Which is bad. After all, you still want to think you have a chance. Maybe keeping Jimin away won’t make it easy for you to leave this world one day. But that’s less of a burden on your life. He is still in a relationship. You still want to make things right. So, you want him to leave now. Or you should leave him here.

“Uhm... Thank you.” You blurt out before he can ask anything else. Making him turn around to look at you. You’re not trying to be rude here. But it might look like that.

“You want me to leave?”

No. Of course not.

“Well, I mean, you must have work to do Mr. CEO. Thanks for helping me. I should find Hoseok─” You step forward. This is awkward. And hurtful. That glint in Jimin’s eyes disappears. “─his coffee. Do you need coffee? I can take you, yours.” You ramble, gesturing at the door. You still need to try. The sooner you get away, the sooner your heart will calm down. When did it start going crazy? When your heart calms down, you can remember why you should not get comfortable with Jimin again. Yet before you can step away, Jimin clutches your wrist. Stopping you.

Fuck, too late!’

“You need to stop doing that. Thought you called me immature when I did that.” Jimin turns you around to face him. Softly. Your brain is starting to ring warning alarms. This is how it always start to mess up.

Get away now!

“Doing what?”

“Trying to avoid me. You were the one who told me talking is what we should do, not avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding you Jimin. How can I avoid you when I walk into your office ten times in a day.” You try to free your hand subtly. He doesn’t let you. Like earlier. And deep down you don’t want him to let you go.

“Yeah? And you would run away like I’m about to eat you.” Jimin scowls. Isn’t he though? Not all the time, no. But sometime that’s how he looks at you. Give you the urge to spread your legs right then and there. You have good reasons to run away.

“I- I─”

“And you asked me to stay away from you Lil.”

This time it’s you who are scowling. Gasp. “When did I ever say that?” Jimin doesn’t answer you. Just give you a deadpan look. “All I said was that you don’t have to help me all the time.”

“Were you?”

“Well, it’s not like you replied to my texts. You don’t get to accuse me.” You don’t really feel mad. All you want is to leave. Every passing minute where you’re staring into his brown orbs, makes you greedy.

“You asked me to stay away.” Jimin repeats. This time more sternly.

“I did not.” You match his voice.

“That’s what you meant when you said that. You wanted to keep me away.” Last part leaves like a breathless whisper. Brushing past your entire body. Making you weak. You’re becoming weak. Chest squeezing. “You wanted me to stay away from you Lil. I was just doing that.” Jimin pulls you with your hand. Slowly. You take a step forward. See, weak. Greedy. His thumb is drawing comforting circles in your hand. How you missed his touch. Is watching you expectantly. Something in his eyes are forcing you to speak the truth. You’re losing it.

“I wanted to try Jimin.” So, you give up. Sigh. Allow yourself to become greedy and get bewitched in his gaze.

“Try what?”

“To stay away. We can’t- can’t─”

Jimin scoffs. “Want a piece of advice Lil? I already tried that, and it’s not gonna work.” Whispers. You don’t stop him when his free hand cups your cheek. Oh, here you go again. Like he said, it never was going to work.

“But- but we need to try at least.” You try to downcast your eyes.

“What did she say to you? Liya?” Jimin keeps your face in place. Never letting your eyes wander away from him. Truth. Something is pulling you to tell the truth. “She asked you to leave, didn’t she?”

“She has all the right─”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“It’s rightfully her place Jimin. And we can’t share it.” You try to reason.

“That’s why you wanted me to stay away?” Jimin ignores your attempts.

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage. You want him to bring you even closer to him. A silence fall down as you simply nod.

“Then you wouldn’t have asked me to do so, if it wasn’t for her?” Asks again.

“You’re in a relationship Jimin.”

“So what? I wasn’t in a one when everything happened. You didn’t know I have a girlfriend when you let me fuck you?”

You shut your mouth. There’s no answer for that than admitting. You knew. You can’t even be mad at Jimin for confronting you. He doesn’t sound like he’s accusing. Is simply asking you a question.

“I did, but─” Jimin cut’s you down by cupping your cheeks with both of his hands this time. Closes the distance between you.

“Then what difference will it make now?” His gaze drops to your lips. You’re certain, his lips would land on yours in a split second. And you’ll let him. You’re already anticipating that touch. But just before it happens, you find yourself stopping him with a question.

“So, you still want me here then?” You’re finally doing this. Asking questions that need to be asked. Jimin’s eyes shift back on to your eyes instead of your lips. A slight frown appearing in his forehead.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, even when Liya is here, you still want me? You still don’t want me to leave?” Your voice is shaky. Jimin chuckles softly in disbelief.

“Course I do baby. Why are you even asking that question?”

“You left with Liya that night.”

You watch as Jimin’s features softens. Contrast to how his hands tighten. “I didn’t know what I should do Lil.” Explains. You know he’s telling the truth this time.

“Do you now, then?”

A silence. A sigh. Deep one. And a shake of his head. “Honestly, no. I have no damn idea what I should do. I’m fucking lost.” Despite his words he brings his face closer to you. “Tell me what I should do baby.” You close your eyes to bask in this feeling. Loving the way his breathings tingle your face. “Aks me to stop Lil. Ask me to go away. Maybe, you should reject me, if you still want to try.” You open your eyes to find his hazy ones. Droopy. You want to laugh at his request. Jimin is an asshole through and through. Is so fucking selfish to ask you to do that. You can’t even blame him since he so graciously admitted he is. Well, if he can be selfish, you can too. There’s a bubble of annoyance that pushes you toward your greed. Pressing your lips into his which are so close to yours. You don’t care. Jimin hums in appreciation. A clue that he never wanted you to reject him. Immediately, starts to work against your lips. Lips slotting with yours desperately. Inclining your head for better access. His tongue poking at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You give him that. Allowing him to lap with your tongue. Allow him to kiss you until your lunges scream.

Only drifting apart for a long breath before attacking each other’s lips again. This is good. More than good. You had wanted, no, you had needed Jimin more than you knew. It’s good to see he wants you as much as you do. You’re clutching on to him eagerly. Kissing him back with a same kind of fervor. Moaning into his mouth. And you want to give him more. More than you need. Want him to know he’s driving you mad. You let your hands roam. Roam on his body. Starting from the back of his neck. Shoulders. Chest. His god sculptured abs. Touching him the best you can through the annoying clothing till your hand stops on his belt. You take a moment, just to tease him before you let it brush against his crotch. Jimin grunts and buck his hips instantly. Pulls away.

“Do it again baby please.” Moans.

“Like this.” You do it again. This time with enough pressure. Jimin lets out an inaudible gasp. Works in light speed when his hand falls on top of yours. Not letting you take your hand away. Guiding you to rub his hardening cock.

“Like that yes. Fuck. More princess please.” You whimper at his words when he keeps pressing your hand harder against his cock. You do as he wants. Like you always would. Squeezing and rubbing. Presses your lips against him once more when the light creaking sound of the door opening interrupts you. Suddenly. Your eyes go wide before you practically push Jimin away from you. In an inhuman speed. So forcefully that he stumbles. Barely catching his balance. You both turn around toward the door in right moment to catch Hoseok enters. Eyes landing on you. Freezing there for a moment since he clearly doesn’t expect to see you here. Surprised. You and Jimin do the same. Frozen and staring at your friend dumbly. Only for a moment, though, then Hoseok is smiling. Stepping inside to allow Taehyung to enter after him.

“Oh, you’re here? What are you doing?” Taehyung is the one who questions when he notices you and Jimin.

“Jimin obviously helped her like the true gentleman he is, while you gaped at her underwear Kim Taehyung. Is that even a question?” Hoseok is the one who answers that question. Only that he’s not looking at Taehyung, but his eyes are on you. And Jimin. Smirking. Oh, he knows. He definitely knows.

“What? I could’ve helped her if you didn’t drag my ass away.” Ever so clueless Taehyung argues while Hoseok keep his piercing gaze on you. You’ll have to let Jimin know. Specially now since Hoseok caught you for a second time. For now, however, you want to disappear.

“Your coffee, I’ll go and grab it” You rush past the two men standing at the doorway fast as you can. Hardly catching Taehyung grumbling that he needs a Fizz instead. Apparently, that drink is like coke. You have found out. You only nod without looking back.

……………………………………..

You’ve been on edge the entire day. Not surprising that you did. Firstly, you’ve been on edge due to how desperately you wanted to go back to Park Jimin. You were practically buzzing with anticipation. Your heart is not slowing down and the fire he lit inside you never dying down. When you went back to him with his coffee, this morning, your horny body and traitorous brain was eagerly hoping to start back from where you stopped. You could have probably. If it wasn’t for Emi being inside with him. Not leaving. Politely and awkwardly gaping at you when you bid your time there. Wait and see if she would leave you alone to no avail. In the end, you had no option but to leave. The only thing that happened from that painful encounter was that you became more desperate. Jimin is to blame since he most definitely fucked you with his eyes. Staring at you shamelessly. Expression fucked up.

Then you had to wait till you have your moment again. There wasn’t a problem since you normally have plenty of opportunities. Too much in fact that it makes you annoyed. But today, though, there were none. On the very day you wanted to go to Jimin, Hoseok didn’t ask you to play his personal delivery service. So, secondly, you’ve been on edge due to how Hoseok treated you. His little smirks and curious gazes. Watching you intently. Giving you enough work to busy yourself but never once asking you to go for Jimin. You were pretty sure he knew but you were too afraid to ask. So, you were playing dumb and hopefully waiting to take anything stupid, even a paper clip or stapler, to Jimin when Hoseok asks. He didn’t. Not for an entire day. Making you wonder what he was playing at again.

Playing was what he did. For no doubt. It became positive when he decided to make you attend a, according to him- very informal and a little- meeting with one of their very important sponsors. Your presence was not required at all. And it was against the policies. You need to stay away from the company matters. But then there you were. Stupidly sitting there while trying hard not to gape at Jimin. Trying hard to keep your mind not wandering away. Imagining things. The way he would kiss you again. Bite on your lips. The way he would sucks on your neck. Marking. The way he would squeeze your tits. Rolling his thumbs over your nipples. How he would suck on them. How good it would be to see his blonde hair tickling your thighs while he bury his face in your cunt. Kiss your clit and dragging his tongue along your slit. How he would make you warm his cock again. Twitching inside you. Throbbing. Oh, what would you do to have that again. Yet all you had was more desperation. Subtly squeezing your thighs together. All you had was glimpse of Jimin. Nothing more.

And you knew Jimin was struggling too. His eyes told you all. Was distracted through the entire meeting. Had mumble ‘Huh?’ more than twenty times during that sixty-minute-long meeting. Couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. Torture. Hoseok had put you in pure torture.

It's pathetic how horny you are now when the day is finally nearing an end. Your mind is going haywire as you wait outside the Hoseok’s office. Resting your ass against his secretary’s desk. You’ve warmed up to each other finally. He has long gone home. Building is getting isolated slowly. Silence spreading. It would be nice if your mind could go that silent as well. If it can shut up and stop thinking about hundred different ways Jimin can fuck you.

“You want a ride?” You don’t even hear Hoseok leaving his office until his voice erupts next to your ear suddenly. It doesn’t even startle you. Too distracted and fucked up. You just hum in reply. “I can take you home if you want to.” Hoseok says again when you just dumbly stare at his face.

Going home? That means this day ends. That means you would not see Jimin again. You would have to wait a day, and you’ll die. No. No, you can’t wait that long. You want him. Jimin. Fuck you need him. He hasn’t left yet now, has he?

“Li?” Hoseok mumbles again. Slowly. Suspiciously. As if he’s not sure whether you’re sick or not. You have no idea since when he started calling you that. Simply you can’t care. You just blink at his face for a long minute. Making up your mind. Perking up the moment you do. Excited.

“You go first. I have something I should take care.” You don’t wait for him to reply. Already walking away.

“Oh yeah? Good luck with that then.”

Can hear the teasing edge in his voice though.

………………………………….

Your mind is repeating one thing and one thing only.

Fuck it!

You need Park Jimin.

Fuck the rest of the world and everyone in it.

You’re going to fuck Park Jimin.

You don’t care anymore. No. Not at all. You’re breathing hard as you walk toward his office. Your heels clank loudly as you go since it’s all quite inside the building now. You’re shaking slightly in pure desire when you finally reach his outer office. Seeing Emi has gone already. You don’t even take a moment to think about what you’re doing. Nor do you wait to knock on his door either. Just pushing it open without a care when Jimin snaps his head toward you from his computer. His eyes go wide in surprise.

“Lil?” Mumbles when you’re already walking forward. You catch him licking his lips. Nervous? Anticipation? Excited? You don’t know. As long as he won’t stop you. You’re fine.

You let your bag fall onto the floor softly. Not giving a double fuck. Do the same to your jacket as well. Are already unbuttoning your button up. You don’t care!

This time you know Jimin licks his lips entirely in anticipation. Is looking at you with an open mouth. Breathing already shallow even before you reach him. He turns his chair away from the table so you can directly straddle him without further hassle. He catches you immediately. Welcoming you like you’ve come home. Head falling down to your cleavage. Burying his face there and inhaling deeply. Groans.

“I can’t Jimin. Fuck, I can’t. Want you. Need you to say Fuck it.” You whimper as you keep his head in place. Jimin chuckles.

“I said fuck it a long-ago Lil.”

You say nothing. Just thread your fingers in his hair. Pulling from it to get him face you. Jimin looks surprised at your sudden change. You’re the one who melts always. The one who waits till he gives you. You don’t reach. Well, you normally don’t but, you’re just a woman and have limits. And those limits snapped. Yet he says nothing when you nod and pull him into a rough kiss. Whimpering and moaning. Trying to hump your cunt into his crotch urgently. Getting annoyed when your stupid tight skirt is restricting your movements. Jimin takes the hint luckily, pulls the hem of your skirt up. Up through the curves of your ass. Bunching it up on your waist. Now you’re nearly naked on top of him. All the more reasons to be more needy. Feverish. Jimin kneads your ass cheeks. Pulling you into him more. Your aching cunt finally landing on where you want to be. Deliciously dragging along his pants. Driving you crazier. Your fingers leaves his hair to reach his shirt instead. To unbutton him. But he suddenly pulls away. Grabs your hand, stopping you from unbuttoning him.

“W-wait.” Mutters. Your movement falters. Eyes going big. Is he really rejecting you now? Has he changed his mind? The way he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it tenderly says otherwise, however. “I need you to think.” Says. Voice thick with adoration. You’re very confused though. Frowning at him. Nothing makes sense to you.

“Think what?”

“If we do this now baby, you’re fucking stuck with me. You know, like I said, I don’t know what I should do. I really don’t have a single idea what I’m going to do. Still, if we’re going to do this, I’m gonna act like you’re mine.” Jimin rambles. Breathless. And so does he take your breath away as well. “I’m going to be fucking jealous and possessive Lil. There’s nothing casual here. I’m not going to say this is just sex and then watch you go on with other men. No. I’m gonna be so fucking annoying to you.” He presses his forehead against yours. You feel like your heart is about to explode from your chest. Why does this feel like a confession. “Even though, I’m in no position to do so. Well, I- I know this is so wrong to say bu- but I just can’t go and break up with- you know, it’s complicated─”

You stop him. By squeezing his hand. Just give him a few nods. It’s not like you came here for anything more. Despite the way you feel your heart breaks at his word. The painful realization of you’re never going to be the first, dawning on you. You’ll be the hidden secret behind closed doors and drawn curtains. But it’s okay. You don’t expect more. You’re already cursed. Cursed to be in this position with this man. So, you let him know you understand. Jimin brings his free hand to cradle your cheek. With the back of his hand. Softly.

“So, I need you to think Lil. I’m not going to let you go. Even though I have no right, I’m going to act like I do. I’m gonna say you’re mine, and mine only. It’s not fair baby. You don’t deserve that shit. I’ve already made your life a mess. I don’t want to drag you deeper into this shit. So, maybe this is not the right time to ask but think baby, be sure.”

You pull away from him. To get a better look at his eyes. Feeling torn between emotional and horny. See, Jimin is the most selfish jerk you’ve ever met. He doesn’t want to drag you deeper into this mess. No. He wants you to walk into that mess. Hand in hand. Selfish. Too fucking selfish. The imperfect Park Jimin. Just a human. And oh, how he’s perfect in your eyes. How you’re not feeling any anger. Remorse. How obsessed you’re with him.

“This is not just casual?” You finally ask after keeping him on edge for minutes.

“No. You’re only mine.” Jimin shuffles in the seat making your half bare chest presses against his clothed one.

“Then what about, uh.. what? Liya? Do you do this with─”

“No. No I haven’t for so long and I don’t think I will again. Not when─” He doesn’t complete his sentence. Instead puts his hands on your thighs. Slowly rubbing. You arch into his touch. Shivering. “Lil?” Gives you a fleeting kiss. Is looking at you hopefully.

Well, it is just like you think. You’re the one behind the curtains. Liya’s the one who will live life out there. The answer you give will determine whether you want to become that person. The mistress you refused to become.  But you can’t lie to yourself. Despite how hard it hurts; you love it when Jimin said you’re his. You love that he is jealous. Simply you will never get to say or feel those things in return. That’s it. And you’re fine. Fine as long as he would give you this. Not sex. No. Being with you this way even as a secret.

“I want you, Park.” You say sternly. No wavering in your voice. Clear and precise. Making Jimin’s breath hitch. He breathes out shakily.

“Are you sure?” Yet he asks again. “I’m not going to share you.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“You’re not going to kick my ass later when I’m annoying you, will you?” There’s such a glint his eyes that makes your heart swell. You chuckle breathlessly. Nudge his nose with yours.

“I think I’ll love it when you annoy my ass.”

“Yeah?”

 “Yeah, will you please fuck me now? I- I’m just─”

“I know” Jimin whispers. Saves you from having to explain your desperation. Pulls you into another tender kiss. And that’s all it take. You’re practically savoring each other. Swallowing each other’s moans and humping like horny rabbits. You finally being able to unbutton his shirt at the right moment he stands up. Picking you up with him. The surprised shriek you make is yet again muffled by him. He puts you down on his table. Easily. Like you’re a doll. Your skirt is still bunched up in your waist and your shirt open. You prop onto your elbows to keep your balance when Jimin urges your legs apart. Cursing loud.

“Shit!” Bends down to catch your lips in a kiss again. “You have a fucking pretty pussy Lil.” Informs you before he straightens again. Just to peer at your cunt. “Take your tits out for me princess.”

You’re quick to comply. Pulling your bra down to reveal your hard nipples. He smiles in approval. Doesn’t touch them though. Ghosts his fingers over your cunt. Leaving barely there touches that gets you bucking your hips desperately.

“Eager, are we?” Taunts you.

“Oh, please Jimin you have no idea, how much I- oh god.” A gentle press in your clit makes your words turn into a moan.

“And you think I haven’t. I was rock hard all day. All because I couldn’t get this cunt out from my mind.” Jimin clicks his tongue. Gets you slightly jumpy when he hooks a finger inside your underwear. Curling it around the material. Forming a thin line out of the fabric. You watch him curiously and breathlessly. He just gently tugs the fabric up. In a way that it perfectly presses against your swollen nub. Your ass nearly laves the tabletop as you hurriedly grabs his wrist.

“No, no, I will cum Jimin. I can’t.”

“So, go ahead. Cum.” Jimin smirks sinfully before pulling the fabric down. You tremble. Then he pulls it up again. This time a bit harder than before. Not enough for you to hurt. Just enough to feel the pressure of it pressing against your clit. Keeps it there. Then down again. Up. Then down. With every tug Jimin making sure to rub the soft material on your clit good. Deliciously. Over and over again. Massaging your cunt with it.

“You gonna cum already princess?” He coos while you’re slowly starting to tense up your body. Hands frantically and blindly searching for purchase on something. To hold onto something to keep you sane.

“Yeah? You do? I haven’t even touched you baby. And you’re already coming? Look how much you’re dripping on to my table.” Jimin’s eyes are glued to your cunt. Doing a damn great job. Creates a perfect amount of pressure in your slit. All you can do is whimper. Moan. Spread your legs further. Allowing him to play with you all the much he want. “All I’m doing is tugging at your panties and you’re going to cum? You’re that desperate for me?” He shifts his gaze from your sloppy cunt to your face. Leans forward. Kisses you sloppily. Trails his hips down to your chin and then throat. Mouth into your skin. Getting drunk on you. Your smell. Pulls away to peek at your face, searching for something. Is making sure his words are not too much. You just know him. Nothing to be surprised anymore. You just nod. Greenlight. Jimin dips down again. This time to take one of your hardened nipples in his mouth. Sucking and gently biting. Pays equal attention to the other one, all the while his hand doesn’t stop rubbing your own underwear in your cunt. Pops your tit out of his mouth.

“You look so good spread out on my fucking office desk Lil. You look fucking gorgeous. Such a good slut hm? Fucking desperate. Do you realize you’re whoring yourself for me?” Fills your ears with filth. “Be a good girl and cum. You can cum like this, right? All you need is anything to touch your slutty clit. And you’re going to be a good slut and cum for me hard. Go on” Tugs a little hard on the fabric that is rubbing against your slit. Your head is spinning. Your body is tensing up. Tears start to blur your sight. And then that knot is exploding. Your back arching and your hands giving up on keeping you propped. “Yeah, like that. Cum baby, cum for me.” You fall back on your back. Accidentally, knocking something on Jimin’s desk to the floor. About which neither of you care. Jimin keeps rubbing your clit to drag your high as long as he can. Only stopping when you wince but you can already feel him tugging your panty down. Forcing you to open your eyes which you didn’t know you had closed. You raise your head hardly to catch him fall down on to his knees.

“J-Jimin.” You straighten up immediately. At the right moment, Jimin buries his face between your thighs. Causing them to shake. “Holy fuck, it- it’s─”

“More Lil. You can. You can cum more for me. Want to make you cum till you can’t anymore. C’mon again.” His words make your cunt vibrate. He wastes no time in starting to drag his tongue over and over your slit. Repeatedly. Working you up again within mere seconds. Latches his lips into your clit while peek up at you. He looks drunk. Just like the day at the cottage. This is exactly how fucked up and drunk he looked.

Fuck!

You can’t. This one is going to be even faster. Especially, since Jimin is ravishing on your cunt like a mad man. Loud embarrassing, slurpy noises filling the air. And then you’re really a goner when he slips a finger inside your quavering hole without any notice. You squeak. Press your cunt more into his face.

“Yes, oh god yes, Jiminie don’t stop. I’m c-close, so close, baby I-I mmhm”

He adds a second finger. Curles. Presses on that spot. You nearly make him suffocate on your cunt when he adds a third. Throwing you over your edge for the second time just as his finger starts to slip inside. He keeps licking and slowly pumping his fingers inside you for couple more minutes. Before standing up fast again. Doesn’t even allow a minute for you to catch your breath when he’s back at kissing you. Your own taste spreading across your taste buds. He bites on your lower lip. Looks mad. Eyes all pupils and face flushed.

“More princess, tell me you can take more. My cock hurts...”

“C-course I c-can Jimin. I-I want you. Want you bad, need your cock inside me. Now please.”

“That’s my girl.” Jimin pulls away to fumble with his pants. Belt thrown away and undoing the fly. Pulling down his suit pant along with his boxers. Freeing his throbbing cock. You’ll never get used to seeing it. Never will not be aroused at the sight. Never learn not to whimper impatiently when he wraps his slender fingers around the shaft. Mesmerizing. Your mouth is literally watering. Jimin stands between your spread legs. No more teasing, it seems. Is nudging his flushed tip against your sensitive, swollen nub immediately. Makin you both moan.

“I really want to see you choke on my cock baby, but I can’t wait anymore─” Jimin mumbles as he drags his tip across your slit. Rubs it up and down. You tremble in excitement. “─ but you know what’s good? We can do it the next time. And then again in the next and─” His words are muffled by his clenched teeth when he suddenly thrusts inside you in a one go. “─and next.” Lets out a breath of relief when you scream his name. Hands find purchase on his shirt sleeve. Pulling him closer to you so that his next words are whispered against your lips. “Because you’re mine, baby. Mine.” He pulls out his cock almost all the way out. “Mine.” Thrusts back hard. Splitting you open and stretching you wide. Good. Delicious.

“Oh god Jimin. Fuck.”

“Say you’re mine Lil. Say I can do this all the much I want.” Thrust. “Tell me.” Thrust. Harder than before the desk rattles under you. Jimin grabs your jaw. Making you look at him. “Say it baby. Say you’re my slut.” He slams inside you. It’s not that you’re not answering. Simply, your brain isn’t working properly. You can’t gather coherent thoughts let alone voice them out. “Say it.” He squeezes your cheeks as he slams inside you harder again. Pace slow but hard. Plunging deep inside you every time he moves forward. A tangled noise leaves you as you struggle to find your words.

“Y-you- yours Ji-Jimin. I’m y-your slut. I’m a-a-all.. oh, fuck.. I’m yours.” You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. They are all just sounds leaving your mouth. Jimin has picked up his speed. Evidently losing control, at your words.

“Fuck, that’s right. Mine. My slut. Gonna take a good care of you baby.” He urges your legs further apart. You give up trying to stay up right. Once again falling down to your back and taking each thrust Jimin gives you graciously. Greedily. Sucking up his cock. Clenching and convulsing around him. Trying to milk him out. His perfect pounding makes his cock head hitting your spot repeatedly. Melting you. Bringing you closer to another climax far too soon. You just need a little push. Sputtering and wailing, you weakly snake your hands between your bodies. Trying to chase that high. You nearly touch the bud when your hand suddenly pushes away. Harsh. Jimin leans over you instantly. Pining your hand next to your head tightly.

“No touching.” Growls. “Just take it like a good girl.” You suck in a sharp breath. “Yeah, fuck like that. Take it all baby. Fucking ahhhh.. take it.”

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling. His thrusts are turning animalistic. Is pounding you. You can hear him spill more filth, but all are becoming a white mess. Stars appearing behind your closed eyelids. You don’t need to touch your clit after all. Your third orgasm hits you like a shockwave. Making you choke on your sobs.

“Jimin... Jimin... oh, please…” You’re crying. Don’t even know why you’re begging. Body shaking. Wraps your legs around his waist feebly.

“I’m here baby. Let go. I got you. Like that, gonna cum too princess, shit, you’re squeezing me so tight. Mmhp… Fuck─” Jimin grits his teeth tightly as you reluctantly let go if him when he promptly pulls out. Ropes of his seeds shooting across your thigh. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jimin keeps cursing. Spilling every last drop he can give into your skin. Until he can’t hold it up anymore and nearly collapse on you. Hiding his face on your neck. You know his knees must be wobbly now. You gently thread your fingers in his hair. Softly scraping his scalp when he purr into you. Draws back after couple minutes.

“Are you okay?” Breathes. You just hum in reply. Lying there in bliss. Jimin slowly withdraws from you. Taking the sight of your wrecked figure, covered in his cum. You watch as he reaches for a box of tissues. Grabbing few to clean you up. Almost dab it on your skin when your hoarse voice surprises you both. You don’t know what demon has possessed you.

“That’s such a waste.” Your own eyes go wide when Jimin shifts his eyes to your face.

“Jesus, Lil, what?” He knows what you’re implying. You can see his gaze darkening once again. You’re insatiable, aren’t you?

“Your cum.” Your heart is starting to race again.

“Yeah? God you’re fucking dirty. What do you want then? Want me to do this?” Jimin throws the tissues away. Doesn’t hesitate a bit when he coats two of his fingers with the white substance spilled over your thigh. Doesn’t mind a bit when he brings those fingers to your lips. You open them willingly, allowing Jimin to push his fingers inside you. Laps your tongue around them. Humming at the salty taste. Watching how Jimin visibly loses his mind again. He takes his fingers back, just to coat them again in his cum and to feed them to you. And again. You suck them off his fingers each time. Staring to squirm and writh again. But what makes you cry out is when he gathers the remaining of his seed for the fourth time. And instead of pushing his fingers in yours, he puts them inside his mouth. Sucking while looking you dead in the eye. You almost cum again.

“Holy, fuck Jimin…” You curse loudly, hips bucking up involuntarily.

“Again?” Jimin asks the moment he’s done with cleaning his own fingers.

“God yes.” You nearly jump at him. Pulling him into a frenzied kiss. Opening your legs again without a care. Giving him everything and taking all, you can. You don’t care anymore. Not at all. You don’t give a fuck about being the secret.

“Fuck yes baby.” Jimin mutters as he plunges his already hard cock inside your spent cunt again. “My pretty slut. Mine.”

You just moan. Pathetic. Yet so good.

You’re going to live this life. Going to make peace with it. Going to make peace with being the person you are now.

The Other Woman.

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a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin

[mochiwonz]

✉︎ - and it was my song, oh, just a song ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x exboyfriend!sunghoon , angst , cursing , reader is still in love with sunghoon but sunghoon isn't , reader finds comfort in music

𓍯𓂃 word count : 706

𓍯𓂃 note : inspired by this is how it went by beabadoobee </3 its also my first time writing angst, please be nice!! remember that this is just fiction. this is a shorter fic but i hope you enjoyy :))

Everyday, you were constantly reminded of him, it's like the world is torturing you. Your ex boyfriend, park sunghoon, whom you still love, is still present in your life. Present in the form of memories and belongings. Two of his hoodies are still in your closet, and they still carry his scent. The scent which you loved and found so much comfort in. On your bedside table, there lays the letter he gave you. This letter was his promise letter to you, that'd he would always be there for you and never stop loving you. That you were his world and more.

Of course, that was a fucking lie. Now, it's been 4 months since your guy's breakup, the day that left you in absolute shambles. You remember the moment so vividly, honestly- it never leaves your mind. Always replaying and leaving you in tears. But, no, you don't hate him. You could never, you knew he had his reasons.

On the days where it gets really bad, you find comfort in the photobook he gave you on your first anniversary and music, specifically your guy's favorite song, and the song he dedicated to you. Or what used to be. Everytime you guys hungout, you listened to the song. Everytime he thought of you, he listened to it. Everytime you thought of him, you listened to it. And actually, the reason you even found out you enjoyed music so much was...him- park sunghoon. God, the world and universe really fucking hated you. But, truly, you were slowly healing.

It was currently 6:30pm and you should've left to go to the grocery store at 5:30, a whole hour ago. What've you been doing? You've just been stuck scrolling on tiktok, coming across too many couple videos. Each one striking harder at your already broken heart. Realizing you actually had shit to do, you get up. You were putting it off because you and sunghoon still lived in the same building. There was a very good chance that you could run into him. And if you did, you would fall in love with his beautiful face all over again and get completely heartbroken.

Closing the door behind you, you lock it. Looking around slowly, you make sure there was no sunghoon in sight. Thankfully, there wasn't! (not yet.) Walking to the store, you felt the cooling breeze in the air and the warm sunlight, and it felt so healing for some reason. Entering the store, you walk in and grab a shopping cart and- oh. The song playing in the grocery store is immediately familiar to your ears, and not in a very good way. It was that song, the song that you and sunghoon always listened to together. The song that haunted you. Fuck. You came to get groceries, not to be reminded of him.

Whatever, you won't let this bother you, you have shit to do.

Walking to the bread aisle, you look down at your list to remind yourself of what you need to get. Looking back up, you see something that makes your heart break. What the actual fuck.

Tears quicked formed in your eyes. There, infront of you, is park sunghoon with a girl. He's smiling and singing the song- with her. The song he dedicated to you when you two were together. The song that you listened to to remind you of him. With her? No. There's no fucking way. He wouldn't do that.

You blink, just to make sure you're seeing it right. And you were. Sunghoon was singing to her and she was singing to him, singing your song. Couldn't they have done this anywhere else? Not in the fucking bread aisle in a grocery store. God, you were so done.

Without realizing it, tears immediately fell from your eyes. Lip quivering and vision blurry, you quickly leave the grocery store. Not caring about the fucking groceries you needed to get anymore. It had only been 4 months and he was already singing your song to another girl. You felt the stares from across the street. You don't blame them, you were violently sobbing. And god, you were so fucked. This healing process might take the rest of your life.

i want to start writing more angst, so i hope this is an okay start :p my other works can be found here !! love u all ♡♡

[ateezscupid]

omg pls do more angst with wooyoung maybe 🫣 ur yunho one was so good and i usually never read angst ….

everybody buckle up! this is so angsty -- you might get mad at me with how angsty this is. 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭.

warnings ✩ ANGST. LITERALLY JUST ANGST. you will cry and sob and wail and scream. toxic relationship, toxic!wooyoung, toxic!reader, the both of you are the toxic ones in the relationship, on & off relationship, intense argument (about literally nothing. it started because of miscommunication, but it's a stupid argument), cheating (BOTH PARTIES CHEATED.), wooyoung brings up a sensitive topic in the argument, addiction, getting replaced, reader falls out of love with wooyoung in the end and he has a really bad panic attack

tags ✩ @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @skzkias

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

Wooyoung sat at the corner table of the bustling cafe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the distant chatter of the afternoon crowd. His fingers danced over the keyboard of his laptop, crafting emails with a practiced ease that belied the turmoil in his chest. He had hoped that the comforting routine of work would distract him from the persistent ache of missing your, but it was a futile endeavor. With a sigh, he saved his document and pushed the laptop aside, reaching for the comfort of his phone instead.

The screen lit up, a stark contrast to the shadows playing across his face. His thumb hovered over your name, the digital embodiment of temptation. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He had to see you. Your Instagram profile filled his screen, a curated collection of moments that no longer included him. He scrolled through your stories, each tap a silent confession of his lingering obsession. The images passed by in a blur until he saw it: your smile, brighter than the neon lights of the city, directed at someone else.

The guy was leaning against the wall, one arm casually draped around your shoulders. It was him. The same guy Wooyoung had caught you with, the one you had claimed was just a friend. The one he had lost you to. The betrayal stung as freshly as the day he found out. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to shatter the screen. He knew he couldn't be mad. He had cheated first, in a moment of weakness that had cost him everything. But why were you with him? He had hoped that time would erase the memory of that painful chapter.

Wooyoung's eyes narrowed as he studied the background of the photo. Recognition dawned. It was the alleyway behind the art gallery where you had shared your first kiss. His heart skipped a beat, and a strange mix of anger and nostalgia flooded his veins. He knew that place like the back of his hand. And now, it was the backdrop for your new life. Without another thought, he shoved his laptop into his bag and stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. He had to go there, to confront the ghosts of his past and the woman who still haunted his every waking moment.

The cobblestone streets of the city were a blur as he walked, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The anger boiled in his chest with every step, a cauldron of emotion that threatened to spill over. The cool autumn air did nothing to ease the heat coursing through his veins. The alleyway grew closer, a dark spot in the vibrant tapestry of the city. His footsteps grew heavier as he approached as if the weight of his own regret was pulling him down.

When he finally reached the narrow strip between the buildings, he paused, his heart pounding in his ears. The walls were adorned with graffiti, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the shadows that had claimed the space. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. The alley was empty, save for a couple of stray cats darting between the dumpsters. The silence was deafening, a stark reminder of the emptiness he felt without you.

He stepped into the alley, the sound of his shoes echoing off the walls. The smell of damp earth and discarded food filled his nose, a stark contrast to the sweet scent of your perfume that lingered in his memory. He walked slowly, his eyes searching for any sign that you had been there. His hands trembled with a mix of anger and longing. He knew it was irrational, but he needed to see it for himself, to understand why you had chosen this place to flaunt your new relationship.

The alley twisted and turned, leading him deeper into the past. The walls closed in, the pressure of his own emotions suffocating. He could almost feel your presence, the echo of your laughter, the warmth of your touch. He rounded a corner and there it was - the spot where you had shared that first kiss. A piece of gum stuck to the wall, the only evidence of your history together. The sight of it brought a fresh wave of pain crashing over him.

Wooyoung leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, and let the memories wash over him. He felt the phantom warmth of your body, the softness of your lips. The anger slowly dissipated, replaced by a profound sadness. He knew he couldn't change the past, couldn't take back his own mistakes. But he had to find a way to move forward, to let go of the love that still held him captive. He took one last look at the spot, the ghosts of your past whispering your goodbyes, and turned to leave. As he walked away, that face. That beautiful face was in front of him again.

"Wooyoung?" you questioned. "Why the hell are you here?" Your voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. He spun around, his eyes meeting hers. You were standing there, alone, with no guy in sight. Your eyes searched his, a storm of confusion swirling within them.

Wooyoung's mouth went dry, his mind racing. He hadn't anticipated this. "I have free will. I can be wherever the hell I want." he spat. The words felt hollow, even to his own ears. He knew his true intentions were anything but innocent.

Your eyes searched his, looking for a glimmer of the man you used to know. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice softer now.

Wooyoung's gaze fell on the phone in your hand. "You posted a story here." It was a statement, not a question. "With him."

A look of understanding flashed across your face, quickly replaced by something else. Something that made his stomach twist. "And what? You want to fight for me now?" you scoffed, your voice laced with a bitterness he hadn't heard before.

"No, I-" He stumbled over his words. He didn't know what he wanted. He hadn't come here with a plan, just a need to see, to feel, to somehow make sense of it all. "You think I miss your whore ass?" he said, the words slipping out like venom. It was a poor attempt to mask his pain with anger.

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step back, the phone slipping from your grasp. It clattered to the ground, the screen shattering. The sound echoed through the alleyway, a stark metaphor for your relationship. "You're the one who couldn't keep it in your pants," you snapped, your voice a mix of anger and hurt. "Don't you dare come here acting like you're the victim."

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind out of him. You were right. He had been the one to cheat first. He had broken your trust, shattered your bond. And yet, here he was, feeling betrayed. The irony was not lost on him. He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out to grab hers. You immediately stepped back, which made him angry.

"Well maybe if you had stopped being a bitch and actually treated me like your boyfriend, I wouldn't cheated." Wooyoung's voice was low, a dangerous rumble that seemed to resonate through the very bricks of the alley.

"And maybe if you had actually talked to me about what was going on instead of sticking it in every hole that walked by, I could've done that!" you shot back, your voice echoing off the walls, each word a dagger thrown with precision.

"Oh right, it's my fault! You acted like you didn't even fucking like me! You hated being in fucking public with me!" Wooyoung's voice was laced with a rage that had been simmering for months, now unleashed in a torrent of accusations.

"You're the one who couldn't keep your dick in your pants, Wooyoung!" you screamed, your voice bouncing off the alley's walls. "You never appreciated what we had!"

"Appreciate? You're the one who couldn't keep your legs closed for five fucking minutes!" he roared back, the echoes of your curses bouncing off the graffiti-covered walls.

"Right. Sure. I'm not doing this with you." you turn around, beginning to walk off. But Wooyoung wasn't letting it go, following you and yelling at you.

"You're just going to walk away again?"

"What do you want from me?!" you spun around, your eyes flashing with anger. "You destroyed us, and now you're mad because I've moved on?"

Wooyoung clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I'm mad because you're with him! The guy you used to hide from me!"

"You had no right to hide shit from me either, Wooyoung!" you screamed, your voice bouncing off the alley walls. "You didn't even try to fix us, you just went out and fucked around like a dog with a new toy!"

"Fine, maybe I did," he roared, "but you didn't exactly make it easy! You were cold, you were distant, you never talked to me about anything!"

Your words hung in the air, the echo of your anger bouncing between the graffitied walls. The tension was palpable, a living thing that grew and morphed with every accusation. The cats had long since fled, leaving them alone in your war of words.

"You never listened!" you shot back, your voice cracking with emotion. "You didn't care about my feelings, about what I was going through!"

"How could I, when you never talked to me?!" he yelled, taking a step closer, his chest heaving with the effort to contain his rage.

"You know why I never talked to you about it! I can't open up to people about shit like that! You never understood!" you yelled back, your eyes welling with unshed tears.

"Well, maybe if you had tried, I could've been there for you! But no, you had to go behind my back and fuck him!" Wooyoung spat, the anger in his voice raw and unbridled.

The argument grew more heated, a dance of accusation and pain. Each word thrown was a dagger that found its mark, drawing blood that stained the alley with your shared history. You were locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to concede defeat.

"You're the one who didn't understand!" you screamed, your voice shaking. "You were never there when I needed you! You were too busy screwing around to care about me!"

"You pushed me away!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the force of his emotion. "Every time I reached out, you pushed me away! What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, maybe tried?! You never gave a shit about me!" you yelled, your voice trembling with rage and sadness. That was it. That was the breaking point. Your words were a slap in the face, a stark reminder of his failures as a partner. The anger swelled in his chest, a volcano about to erupt. He stayed silent, and it only egged you on to say something worse.

"You know what, Wooyoung?" you spat, your eyes ablaze. "I'm happy with him! He doesn't treat me like a fucking object!"

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He saw red. He took a step forward, his hand shooting out to grab your arm. "You're happy with him? After all the shit I went through for you?" His grip was tight, his nails digging into your skin.

"Wooyoung, let go!" you yelped, trying to pull away.

He leaned in, his breath hot and heavy on your face. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You're just trying to hurt me, because you're fucking pathetic." he spat, the words leaving a bitter taste in the air. "I wish I never fucking picked you up off that sidewalk. I wish I had left you to fucking rot on that goddamn concrete. Maybe then you'd know how much you need me."

Your eyes widened in shock, your body trembling with the sudden surge of fear and anger. "You son of a bitch," you hissed, trying to jerk away. But his grip only tightened, almost pinning you to the wall.

"You're just a fucking tease, leading me on and then giving it up to the first guy who actually shows you attention," he sneered, his voice a mix of disgust and desperation. "You're not worth the fucking ground you walk on."

He didn't know why he was saying these things, didn't recognize the monster his pain had turned him into. But the words kept coming, each one a bullet aimed at your heart. "You're nothing but a whore," he said, his voice cold and hard. "And he's just using you like I did. You're just a thing to be used."

Your eyes filled with tears, but you didn't dare let them fall. You stared at him with a mix of anger and hurt, your voice steady despite the tremble in your chin. "Let go of me," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

For a moment, he just held you there, his eyes searching hers for some sign of regret, some indication that you knew you had hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But all he saw was anger and defiance. He knew then that you had moved on, that you weren't his to save or to claim.

With a snarl, he released you, watching as you stumbled backward, rubbing your arm. He took a step back, the gravity of his words settling in his stomach like a rock. "Fuck," he murmured, the fight draining from him.

You stood there, in the alley that had once held the promise of love and now bore witness to your destruction. The air was thick with tension, the silence between them a stark contrast to the cacophony of your fight.

"I never asked you to save me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to be your fucking project."

Wooyoung felt his chest tighten, the truth of your words a knife twisting in his gut. He had thought he was doing the right thing, thought that by saving you from your ex he could somehow fill the void in his own life. But all he had done was push you further away.

"You don't get to talk to me like that," you continued, your voice growing stronger. "Not after everything we've been through. I deserve better than you."

He stared at you, his anger turning into regret. Why would he say that? He didn't mean it. He still loved you. "Look, I'm sorry," Wooyoung began, his voice softer, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Don't," you said, your voice shaky. "Don't you dare apologize. You don't get to do this to me. You don't get to hurt me and then pretend it's all okay."

Wooyoung took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the alley as if searching for a way to fix this mess he had created. "I know I messed up," he said finally. "I know I hurt you. But I can't just let you go. I need you to know that."

"Why?" you asked, your voice a mix of anger and sadness. "Why do you need me to know that when you couldn't even be honest with me when we were together?"

He took a step toward you, reaching out his hand again. "Because I'm an idiot," he said, his voice cracking. "Because I know I don't deserve you, but I can't imagine my life without you."

But you didn't take his hand. Instead, you took another step back. "You had your chance," you said, your voice firm. "You threw it away when you decided to cheat. I'm not going to let you do that to me again."

The finality in your tone was like a door slamming shut in his face. He felt the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, crushing any hope of redemption. "But I've changed," he whispered, his voice desperate.

"Maybe," you said, "but it's not enough. You need to figure out what you really want before you can have anything."

With that, you turned and walked away, your heels clicking on the cobblestone as you disappeared around the corner. Wooyoung watched you go, his hand still outstretched, his heart feeling like it was being torn from his chest. He knew he had pushed you too far this time. He had to accept it. He had to move on. But the thought of living without you was unbearable.

He slammed his fist into the wall, the pain a welcome distraction from the agony in his heart. The plaster crumbled under his hand, leaving a dent and a smear of blood. He stared at it, his breathing heavy. He just stood there, staring at his fist. He started to shake, his chest hurting, head hurting, what was happening? He couldn't breathe. He stumbled, trying to find something to hold onto. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for air that wouldn't come. The world around him swam, and his vision blurred. He had never felt so lost, so utterly destroyed.

The alley was spinning around him, the colors of the graffiti becoming a jumbled mess of anger and sadness. His heart raced, pounding in his chest like a drum, a rhythm that matched the sob that was trying to claw its way out of his throat. He leaned against the wall, his body heaving with the effort to take in air. It was like someone had your hands around his neck, squeezing tighter and tighter with every second that passed. His lungs burned, begging for oxygen that was being denied.

He felt like he was going to be sick. His stomach lurched, and bile rose in his throat. He doubled over, retching, but nothing came out except for the pain and the regret. He could hear his own ragged breathing, the harsh, wet sounds of his sobs echoing off the walls. The cold concrete ground was the only thing keeping him grounded as the panic consumed him. His phone slipped from his pocket, clattering against the ground, forgotten in the chaos of his breakdown.

The tears fell in a torrent, stinging his cheeks and mixing with the snot that dripped from his nose. He didn't care anymore. He didn't care about his pride, about the fight you'd just had, about the people who might see him like this. All he cared about was you, and how much he had lost you. The sobs grew louder, his body shaking violently. It was as if his very soul was being torn apart, piece by piece.

The alley was cold and unforgiving, the concrete beneath him a stark reminder of the hard reality he faced. His knees were scraped from the fall, his hands raw from punching the wall. But the pain was a comfort, a reminder that he was still alive, still feeling. He leaned his head back against the gritty bricks, his eyes squeezed shut as he let out a keening wail that seemed to come from somewhere deep within him.

He had never felt so empty, so utterly devoid of motivation. The words you had thrown at him echoed in his head, a chorus of accusations and anger. But it was the pain in your voice that had done the most damage. The pain that he had caused. The pain that he couldn't take back. He had thought that seeing you with someone else would bring him closure and would make him realize that he didn't need you. But all it had done was show him that he needed you more than he ever had.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 10)

summary: with your trainer's help this last week, you slowly find your way back to yourself again... and you finally have the courage to tell hugh more details about your relationship with jack and it only makes him angrier. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal / physical abuse (not with hugh!). implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.4k a/n: anyway, we're getting into the reader's backstory with jack, so it's going to be a bit dark... and consider this the first argument between reader and hugh... gonna be a tough next couple of chapters, but trust me when i say there will be a happy ending at the end of all of this! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

You’d taken today off to drop your trainer off at the airport. This last week had gone too fast and while it was emotionally and mentally exhausting, it was just what you needed to remind yourself just how far you’d come. There’s still something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the anxiety that you’ll need to have a conversation with Hugh about everything that’s happened with you and Jack. He knows bits and pieces that you’ve shared before, but he doesn’t know the full picture. 

“You gonna be okay?” she asks. 

“I think so,” you nod. “I can’t let Jack run my life anymore.”

Your trainer pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “You’re a good person,” she whispers. “And you never should have gone through what you did. He should have never put you through that.” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you wrap your arms around her as well. She had been a godsend and so important in your journey in finding yourself again. She empowered you, motivated you, and helped you see just how worthy you are. 

When she pulls away, she smiles in your direction. “Hugh loves you,” she points out. “Allow yourself to be loved because you’re worthy of it. You’re enough.” 

You nod, wiping any fallen tears from your cheeks. “I just don’t want to disappoint him… What if he realizes that I’m not what he thought I’d be, that maybe all the pain I’m still working through isn’t worth it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?”  

You share your head. 

“Well, that man looks at you like you can do no wrong. Like you’re the only person that matters. Trust me, you are worth it.” 

“Part of me is also nervous… To talk to Hugh and tell him everything. He knows bits and pieces, but…”

“He’ll understand,” she replies. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.” 

You sigh and then pull her in for another hug. “Thank you for coming here, for being there for me. Again.” 

She lets out a quiet laugh and gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “If Hugh wants to invite me back, let me know. I’d be happy to visit again,” she winks. 

“I’ll let him know. Get home safe.” 

“Remember how far you’ve come, okay?” she says. “And if Jack crosses any lines, it might be time to get the authorities involved.”

You nod in agreement. “I know… I just don’t want it to get to that point.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” 

—

Later that night, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the hotel room with a notebook on your lap. You had tried to write some talking points to go over when Hugh gets home. You know he’s going to be tired, but you know that if you don’t have this conversation with him, you may never will. 

You know he’s on his way back to the hotel and your heart races faster and faster. You can feel the anxiety course through your veins and even with the notes you had written down, you still don’t feel all that confident. It’s not the fact that you have to tell Hugh what happened, but it’s the fact that you’d have to relive everything that Jack had put you through. 

When you hear the hotel room door open, you stand up and turn to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Hugh. He looks tired, but at the sight of you, his eyes light up and a broad smile lines his lips. This must be what your trainer was referring to… about the way he looks at you. It eases your nerves, calms you down and keeps you grounded because with Hugh, you have always felt safe. 

He steps out into the balcony with you and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby. Missed you on set today.” 

You smile to yourself and shut your notebook, setting it on the chair you were sitting on and away from his line of view. “I missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at his nape. “How was filming?”

“It was good. Movie’s coming along.” Hugh holds you closer to him, eyes falling shut as he holds you in his arms. This was what he was looking forward to all day. Being with you. He knows that this last week had helped a great deal, having your personal trainer here had helped immensely. You weren’t so much on edge anymore and it felt like things were going back to normal. Before Jack entered the picture. “And how was your day? You get home safe after dropping her off?” 

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “It was nice having her here. Thank you for doing that, baby. You really didn’t need to and–”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I wanted to. I knew she would help… in ways that I couldn’t.” 

“I love you,” you smile. “I’m really lucky.” 

“I love you too, baby.” He pecks your lips and then slowly pulls away. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and maybe we can order in for dinner?” 

“Wait, Hugh…” 

“Yeah?”

“After your shower, can we talk?” 

Hugh’s brow furrows, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands move to rest on your hips. “What about?” 

“Just…” you bite your lower lip. “It’s nothing bad. I just–” 

Hugh tilts his head to the side. He can sense your worry, your anxiety, so he just nods and leans in to peck your lips lightly. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after my shower.” As he turns to walk back into the room, you reach out for him and pull him back into a tight hug. Your face buries into his chest, arms tightening around his frame as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he whispers. 

“I will be.” 

—

Hugh’s shower doesn’t last that long. He tries not to overthink about what you wanted to talk about, but he can’t help the tug he feels in the pit of his stomach. Now he’s worried, he’s concerned. He quickly changes into a pair of black sweatpants and a Global Citizen t-shirt. He dries his damp hair with a towel and steps back out into the room, seeing you still outside on the balcony. You’re writing in your notebook again and he knows that you only write when you have something on your mind, something that you can’t shake. 

Quietly, he steps out with you and smiles in your direction. Hugh watches you close your notebook, setting it on the small table. He doesn’t let you get up, instead, he scoops you into his arms and then sits in the same chair with you on his lap. 

“Okay, let’s talk, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he drapes an arm over your legs. Hugh tries not to make it seem like he’s nervous and he isn’t even sure if you take notice because he can see that your mind has drifted, and can feel the tension in your shoulder blades. 

“Jack–”

“What?” 

You take a deep breath and move an arm around his shoulders. “I need to tell you about– about Jack.”

“Baby, you don’t have to–”

“I need to, Hugh.” 

He can see the tears in your eyes and a piece of his heart breaks at the sight. Hugh cups your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your skin, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

You nod and bite your lower lip. “So, we were together for three years…” 

“That I knew.” 

“The– The abuse, the manipulation, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I realized it was too late.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels anger bubbling within him, but he opts to remain quiet, to keep a neutral look on his face. He knows that you need this, that you need to tell him and he can’t react because he fears that if he does, you’re going to pull away and he knows how important this is that you’re telling him. 

“I had gotten used to his insults… so much so that I started to believe him.” you’re about to get off his lap, about to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm hold on you. When you look into his eyes, all you can see is the concern in his features and the subtle desire to take your pain away. 

“Oh baby…” Hugh whispers quietly. 

“I’m weak and I’m not brave,” you continue. “And that’s because of Jack. I should have left at the first sign of his verbal abuse, but I always–” you can feel your breath catch in your throat. “I always justified his actions. Always felt like it was my fault, that he was acting the way he was and saying the things he’d say because of me. Because I was making things difficult for him.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw when you look away from him, the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

“And I believed him. I thought– I thought I could give all of my love to him and he’d see how much I cared for him, how much I was willing to do anything for him. Because I did,” you say with a disappointed tone. “I did love him and when he broke up with me – he broke up with me –” you shake your head. “It was my fault. It was always my fault. Mine.” 

“Baby, no…” Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours. 

“I couldn’t even break up with him, Hugh. All of the nasty things he’s said to me and I couldn’t–” you shake your head and stand up from his lap before he can pull you back. “I was heartbroken when Jack broke up with me because he made me believe that no one would ever love me… that I wasn’t worthy of love and I fucking believed him.”

Hugh’s foot taps against the floor incessantly. He wants to reach out for you, but he always wants to find Jack and cause him just the same amount of pain – if not more. But then, he hears the words leave your lips and he jumps up from his chair. 

“He hit me once.”

“What?” 

“Hugh…”

“No no, he what?” 

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You can see the anger clear in his features and you gently reach out for him, but he just shakes his head. He’s fuming, hands shaking at his sides at your admission. You know this was going to happen, had even expected this reaction, but seeing it firsthand is entirely different. You don’t know how you can even calm him down. 

“I got angry because he had made me make him dinner after a long fucking day at work and–” you sigh. “After that, I learned how to fight because I knew that if he put his hands on me again, I’d fight back and–” 

“Wait, he hit you? Put his hands on you?”

“Hugh…”

“No, baby.” Tears are now pooling at his eyes. “He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me? He has no fucking right–”

“Hugh!” you raise your voice, staring up at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I’m telling you this so you can understand why he had so much control over me, why I reacted the way I did when I saw him that one night at dinner, why it’s so fucking hard for me to see how worthy I am of this, of you.” 

Hugh shakes his head. He’s trying – truly, he’s trying so fucking hard to understand (and there’s a big part of him that does), but all he can see is this man putting his hands on you, putting thoughts and words into your mind that aren’t true. 

“Give me his number. The number he called you from a couple of weeks ago,” Hugh says. 

“No.”

“Baby, he can’t just get away with thinking that what he did to you was okay. He can’t get away with still making you feel the way that you do.”

“What are you going to do? Go and beat him up?” you ask, shaking your head. “Hugh, you’d get arrested! It’d be all over the media and–”

“I don’t care!” Hugh yells – it’s the first time that he’s ever raised his voice at you and when he sees you take a step back, it brings him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just– I can’t fathom this man walking around thinking like he did no wrong, baby.” 

“Nothing you do will help him see that, Hugh.”

“No? Well he hasn’t dealt with someone like me and–”

“Just stop!” 

Hugh furrows a brow. “Baby–”

“No, Hugh…” you cross your arms over your chest, wanting so badly to just get away from this all, away from Jack, away from Hugh. “I don’t need you to save me… I don’t need you to go back to my past and make things better. I just need you to understand the shit I went through is what made me who I am today. And I’m still healing… I’m still working on it, and I just–” your breath catches in your throat once more. “You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding that I figured I’d at least tell you everything because… because I will have moments where it’ll be hard for me to snap out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate you telling me all of this, baby–” Hugh sighs. “But I can’t just sit here and not do anything about it.”

“You know what,” you tell him, opening the sliding door to walk back into the hotel room. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I can’t be here right now. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Baby, no–” Hugh walks after you, watching you pull on a jacket and slip on your shoes as you grab your bag. “Please, just stay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him quietly. “I just need some space right now.”

“I love you,” Hugh whispers. 

“I know,” you reply, grabbing the hotel key card and setting it in your bag. “I love you too, Hugh, but I just need to be alone right now. We both need to calm down before we say something we’re both going to regret.” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond because just as his mouth opens to say something, you’re already out the door. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

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@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[btsqualityy]

Y.O.U (Years Of Us), Chapter 8: "Have a nice life".

Jimin x half black/half Korean OC

Genre/Rating: 21+, established relationship, idol!AU, smut, angst, and fluff

Summary: Kamaria has a run in with Hye-ja, Jimin pops up, and Kamaria and Taemin talk business.

Warnings: masturbation

WC: 2.4K

Song Of The Chapter: Loving Me 4 Me-Christina Aguilera

Two Years Ago

Jimin shuffled down the hallway of his house, rubbing at his eyes as he followed the sound of Kamaria's voice from where it was flowing from the kitchen. When he got to the archway that separated the kitchen from the large dining room, he smiled to himself as he watched her sing some lyrics that he had never heard before.

"Your lips, your eyes, your smile, your kiss, I must admit, it's a part of me," Kamaria sung. "You please me, complete me, filling me like a melody."

Jimin leaned against the archway, admiring how gorgeous she looked. She must've written whatever she was singing the night before because she was dancing around to it as if she already knew the melody to it, which she more than likely did. She was clad in one of his t-shirts with boy shorts on underneath and if he knew her the way he knew he did, she didn't have a bra on. Her hair, which was in braids, was piled on top of her head and she had a scarf on, which made him chuckle since he recognized it as one of his merch items from years ago.

"Your soul, your flow, your youth, your truth is simply proof we were meant to be," Kamaria continued. "But the best quality that's hooking me is that you're loving me for me."

Jimin chose to sneak up behind her then, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist and she instantly leaned into him. He loved it when she did that, it showed him how comfortable she was around him.

"That's beautiful," he murmured deeply, in lieu of a "good morning". "You write that last night?"

"After we had sex," she replied with a nod. "I couldn't sleep after because this melody got stuck in my head."

"The lyrics you were just singing, is that how I make you feel?" Jimin wondered and he hugged her tighter when she placed her hands on his forearms.

"They are," she confirmed. "You know how I feel about you."

"I don't know, I might need a reminder," he joked, making her smack her lips as she turned around to face him.

"You're everything to me," Kamaria stated honestly.

"You're everything to me too, Bubs," he whispered before kissing her passionately.

.........................................................

A few days later, Kamaria smiled as she posed for pictures , standing outside of Eclair which was the flagship store where one of her close friends, Kwon Hyeri, was celebrating the grand opening. Kamaria had been trying to stay out of the press since 'Taming' was still receiving pretty significant media attention but Hyeri had been designing clothes for Kamaria basically since her debut so she wanted to show her support.

"Kamaria, over here!" The paparazzi shouted and Kamaria instantly turned her head, her smile bright as she posed with her hands folded in front of her and her legs crossed. Unlike most celebrities, Kamaria didn't outright hate the paparazzi. Of course, they could be privacy invading jerks at their best and despicable, life ruining assholes at their worst but Kamaria did her best to really only acknowledge them at public events and so far, that had seemed to work out in her favor.

"Thank you," Kamaria said, bowing lightly to them before she walked off of the carpet and into the store, where all of the guests that had been invited to the grand opening where mingling around, talking and looking over the pieces of clothing that were for sale.

"Kam!" Hyeri shouted as she rushed up to her and Kamaria grinned widely as she hugged her friend tightly. "I'm so glad you were able to make it!"

"How could I not?" Kamaria chuckled. "I owe you so much."

"I'm the one who owes you," Hyeri shook her head. "It's thanks to the publicity from you wearing my designs that I was even able to open the store."

"Hey, your talent is the one to thank in that case," Kamaria replied. "I'm proud of you, seriously."

"Thanks," Hyeri beamed. After grabbing a glass of champagne, Kamaria milled around the store, making small talk with different idols and actors and actresses that she was familiar with.

"Well, if it isn't Choi Minali," a voice called out and Kamaria looked over to see Hye-ja smiling at her.

"Hey-ja-ssi," Kamaria smiled, albeit tightly. "How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you?" Hye-ja wondered.

"Good, good," Kamaria nodded. "Just came to support Hyeri."

"She dresses you, right?"

"For things like my music videos and tours, she'll usually make me something custom, yeah," Kamaria confirmed. "What about you?"

"Oh, I wore one of her gowns in a film of mines and I've been trying to get her on retainer ever since," Hye-ja joked, making Kamaria laugh. "I'm so glad she finally decided to have some faith in herself and open an actual store, though."

"Same here," Kamaria agreed. Suddenly, a photographer came up to them and smiled politely.

"Do you two mind taking a photo together?" He wondered.

"Of course not," Hye-ja shook her head before turning to look at Kamaria. "Ok?"

"Sure," Kamaria nodded. Hye-ja moved to stand next to her then, and they both smiled brightly as the photographer snapped the photo.

"Beautiful," he complimented. "Thank you." Hye-ja waited until the photographer walked away before she turned around and smiled at Kamaria.

"So, can I tell you something?" She wondered and Kamaria shrugged before nodding.

"Go ahead."

"Stay the fuck away from my husband," she spit and Kamaria's eyebrows instantly rose as she looked at the other woman.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, despite what my looks might have you thinking, I'm not some stupid, spoiled actress," Hye-ja stated firmly. "I know that you're the reason why Jimin hasn't been wearing his wedding ring."

"I have no idea why Jimin's not wearing his wedding ring," Kamaria scoffed. "That literally has nothing to do with me."

"Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes. "You heard what the fuck I said."

"You know, since we're sharing tidbits of information, you should probably know that I don't like being threatened," Kamaria fumed lowly. "And if you were smart, you might wanna ask your husband what exactly I do to people who threaten me."

Hye-ja either was shaken by that statement or she had the good sense to pretend that she was because the fire that had been in her eyes subsided and Kamaria could tell that it was replaced by slight apprehension.

"Have a good rest of your night," Kamaria smiled falsely before turning around and walking away.

.........................................................

Later that night, after making it back home, Kamaria had managed to take off her dress, shower and put on her pajamas before a knock sounded at her front door. Walking up to the door, she paused to check the security camera and she could instantly tell that it was Jimin, even though he had clearly tried to disguise himself by wearing a fedora and a trench coat.

"Right on time," Kamaria muttered to herself as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Fuck do you want, Jimin?"

"Damn, hello to you too," he chuckled.

"Oh excuse me, I'm sorry, I'm not in the best mood because I ran into your wife tonight and she fucking threatened me," Kamaria rushed out.

"Hye-ja?" Jimin chuckled. "She threatened you?"

"What reason would I have to fucking lie, Jimin?"

"Never said you were lying," he instantly replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it's hard to imagine Hye-ja threatening someone."

"Yeah, well she did and you better warn the little bimbo bitch to not do it again because next time, I'm going to fuck her up," Kamaria stated firmly. "And you know I will."

"Ok, ok," Jimin nodded. "I'll talk to her and I'm sorry that she did that."

"What did you even come over here for anyways?" Kamaria wondered.

"Came to get my ring," he said and Kamaria nodded tersely.

"Wait here." She walked away from the door, going into her kitchen and grabbing the ring from where it had been sitting on the counter before walking back to the front door and dropping it into Jimin's waiting hand.

"Why haven't you called me?" He wondered as he pushed the ring back onto the fourth finger on his left hand.

"There's nothing for us to talk about," Kamaria shrugged. "What happened that night was a mistake. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You sure about that?"

"More than sure," she nodded. "Just needed a distraction." Jimin's eyes widened at hearing her refer to what they shared that night as a distraction and he couldn't help the scowl that appeared on his face.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to know that Hye-ja came to me and said she's finally ready to have a baby," Jimin told her, wanting to hurt her the way that she had hurt him. Admittedly, that statement did hurt Kamaria and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"Great, then you don’t need me. Congratulations," she spat harshly. "Have a nice life". Jimin didn't even get a chance to respond before door was slamming shut in his face that was sounded by a loud kick from the other side of the door, which made him flinch in his spot.

"God damn it," they both whispered to themselves.

.........................................................

A week later, Kamaria had done her best to just move on with her life. She was trying to focus more on writing the album and getting that done, and she was finding it surprisingly easy to write. Apparently, heartbreak's an amazing motivator. Who would've thought?

Kamaria was broken out of her thoughts by her black escalade pulling up in front of a well known restaurant in Seoul called Harbour. Once the truck pulled to a stop, she waited until her security opened the door and she hopped out, being careful of her skirt as she quickly rushed into the building.

Raising her sunglasses up from her eyes and setting them on top of her head, Kamaria glanced around the room until she locked eyes with another pair of brown ones, making her grin widely.

"Tae," she grinned, rushing over and Taemin only had enough time to stand up before she threw herself against him, hugging him tightly.

"Hello, my love," he greeted her, gently squeezing her waist and she pulled back a little bit from the hug so that she was able to look up at him.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she apologized and Taemin instantly shrugged.

"Forget it," he replied. "I haven't been waiting long. Here, sit down." He moved over to pull her chair out for her and once she was sitting, he moved back to sit down in the chair across the table from her. "How are you? Like, really?"

"I'm ok, Tae," she assured him. "I was a little depressed because of my mom but I'm coming back out of it alright."

"Good," Taemin murmured. "I know we don't talk as much but I do still worry about you."

"I know," she nodded, putting one of her hands out on the table and Taemin instantly reached his out and intertwined their fingers. "I appreciate it, honestly."

"Don't distract me," Taemin said suddenly with a smile, squeezing her hand before letting it go which made Kamaria laugh. "We came here to discuss business."

"You're right," she sighed. "So, I've been working on my newest album and I wrote a song called If I Could Tell You. While I was working on it, I was trying to envision who would sing the other part and all I could think of was you."

"Well, I have always thought our voices harmonize insanely well together," Taemin spoke up. "Would you mind if I looked at the lyrics too, maybe have some input?"

"Of course not," Kamaria shook her head. "I think that would make it more tangible, you know?"

"Believable," Taemin chuckled in understanding. "I'll do it."

"Wait, that easily?" Kamaria gasped softly.

"Well, the company is more than enthusiastic about it and people have been trying to get us to do a song together for years now so I know our fans will probably enjoy it," he explained.

"I just thought with everything you have going on right now, you might be too busy."

"When have I ever been too busy for you?" Taemin wondered and Kamaria couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face.

"Just so you know, I only want to do the song with you," she acknowledged. "Nothing else."

"Are you sure? I know you remember how good it was in that bathroom in Gangnam, and every other time," he smirked.

"You also know how good it was and still is," Kamaria shot back, making Taemin chuckle.

"Don't I know it?" He muttered wistfully. "It's the stuff my dreams are made of." The warmth that flowed over Kamaria's cheeks stayed there for the rest of their lunch together and even as they walked out of the restaurant together, she still couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye exactly.

"Should've known the dozens would descend at some point," Kamaria huffed, nodding with her head at the small group of paparazzi that had gathered outside of Harbour.

"They must've heard the prettiest songbird had decided to grace us all with her presence," Taemin complimented her and Kamaria rolled her eyes playfully.

"I'll call you soon to set up a session, ok?"

"I'll be waiting," he promised, grabbing one of her hands and giving it a gentle squeeze.

.........................................................

"Fuck," Kamaria moaned as she ran her fingers over her clit in a small circle, her other hand pinching her nipple as she pushed herself towards her peak. If Kamaria were being honest with herself, just being around Taemin always made her wet and not acting on it only further drove her crazy.

There had always been this nameless quality that Taemin had that just seemed to pull Kamaria to him. She wasn't sure if it was his unyielding sense of innocence, his cheesy jokes, his heavenly voice or even his beautiful fucking face. All she knew was that Taemin always made butterflies flutter around her stomach, and she didn't mind that at all.

"Shit," she hissed, her back arching up off the bed. "I'm gonna, gonna, fuck! Tae!" Her climax crashed down onto her at that moment, her thighs becoming slick as she slowly rubbed the last edges of her orgasm out.

"Holy fuck," she huffed as she flopped back against her pillow. "I don't how the fuck I'm gonna make it through these recording sessions."

.........................................................

Tag List: @dunixxd @namaslaylife @shabbamadapot  @canarystwin @moonstar127

[alexiroflife]

jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...

"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)

you're fucked.

you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.

you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.

this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.

especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.

damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.

you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-

"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.

you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?

you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.

you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.

"babyyy!"

you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.

you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.

"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.

"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"

"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"

"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.

"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"

"nah, I waited for you, toru."

"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."

you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.

he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.

"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"

fucking hell, damn those six eyes.

you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."

"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"

you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.

satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.

"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.

satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."

you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."

"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"

"yeah... why?"

"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."

why the hell does he want to move around so much?!

"um- why can't we just order here?"

a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.

you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"

gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."

"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"

"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."

"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"

"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"

you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."

"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."

"why do you want me to stand?"

"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."

"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.

"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."

"no."

"no?!"

"no, i don't want to."

"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.

"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.

"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"

"nothing."

"then stand up."

"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."

"i will if you tell me what's wrong."

"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.

he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.

his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"

you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.

"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"

"satoru, you're being dramatic."

"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"

"it's fine, relax."

"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."

you frown. "But-"

"Now."

you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.

satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."

"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."

"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"

"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."

"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."

"i get it, toru," you frown.

"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."

your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.

"there's that pretty smile."

"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."

"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."

"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"

"forget the mission."

"...satoru, i can't just-"

"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."

"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."

"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."

"but you're you."

"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"

"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."

"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."

"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."

"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."

you pout slightly. "I love you too."

"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."

"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.

"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."

he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"

you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."

"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"

"...i wanted it to go away."

"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"

"i wanted to get into bed!"

satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"

"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."

"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.

"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."

"toru-"

"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."

"satoru!"

but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.

suguru geto: (cold!)

shit.

you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.

something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.

you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.

how can you be sick of all things?

you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.

you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.

you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.

suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.

and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.

"hello?"

"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.

"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."

"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."

you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"

"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."

"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"

"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.

"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"

"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."

suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.

"suguru? you there?" you finally say.

"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"

"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"

"(Y/n)."

"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."

"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"

"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.

"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."

suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."

you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."

"okay. I'll see you in a bit."

after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.

you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.

you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.

just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.

we miss you :(

you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.

you miss having a life.

you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.

the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.

he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.

when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.

"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.

you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.

"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.

"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"

"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.

"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."

"suguru..."

"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."

"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.

"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."

"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."

"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"

his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.

"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."

"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."

"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."

"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."

"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"b-because, I have to..."

"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."

"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"

"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."

your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.

"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."

you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.

"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."

your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."

"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.

you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."

"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.

"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.

"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."

"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."

you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."

"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."

kento nanami: (low iron!)

you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.

it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.

you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.

it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.

perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.

you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.

what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.

and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.

"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"

you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.

god, why can't you just be normal?

you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.

you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.

you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.

you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.

but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.

you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.

"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.

you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.

kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.

"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"

you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.

"oh shit," you whisper.

"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"

"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."

"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."

"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."

"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"

you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.

"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"

and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.

"...i'm not sure what you're-"

"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."

your heart drops. "kento..."

"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."

the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."

"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"

"i know," you mutter.

"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"

you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.

"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."

"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.

"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."

"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.

the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"

"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."

"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."

"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."

nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."

"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."

"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."

"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."

nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."

"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."

"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."

"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."

"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."

"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.

"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."

"i know."

"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."

"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."

"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."

"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."

you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"

you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."

he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."

choso kamo: (broken finger!)

it had fully been an accident.

you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.

it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.

you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.

but you hadn't.

the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.

"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.

for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.

and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.

you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.

you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.

one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.

he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.

so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.

that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.

"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"

"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.

"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"

"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."

"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"

"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."

"who told you about my fingers, love?"

"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."

"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."

"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"

"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."

"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.

"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."

"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.

"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."

you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."

"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."

"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."

"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.

"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"

"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."

"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.

"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."

"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.

his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.

"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."

"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"

"cho, it'll be okay."

"that wasn't my question."

you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."

"right. sorry," he murmurs.

"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."

"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"

"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."

the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.

he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.

"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.

"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.

"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."

"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."

"i really hope so."

"now can you pass me those chips please?"

toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)

toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.

he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.

no touching. that is all he asks of you.

and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.

you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.

the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.

you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.

toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.

you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"

"why were you just standing there like that?"

"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."

"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"

you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"

"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."

you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."

"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."

"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.

a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."

"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."

"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.

his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.

"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."

"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.

"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."

"i'm not hiding anything, toji."

"uh huh."

shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.

you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.

you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.

"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.

"turn around f'me."

"huh?"

"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."

you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."

"and i hate when you lie, now turn."

you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.

god dammit. you're so dead.

nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.

"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.

you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.

"open."

"can't we just-"

"open."

you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.

toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.

"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"

"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"

"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."

"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."

"you're being a prick."

"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.

"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."

"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"

"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"

"what. do i say. about my weapons."

you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."

"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."

"look, i'm sorry."

"shut the hell up and come on."

despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.

when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.

the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.

"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.

you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.

toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.

you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.

"go slowly," you plead.

"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."

"shut the fuck up."

toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."

the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.

"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."

your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.

"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.

you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.

"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.

toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"

"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."

toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."

"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.

"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."

you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."

"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"

you perk up. "really?"

"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."

"don't be a smartass."

toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."

"...how about after we're done here?"

"don't fucking push it."

ryomen sukuna: (fever!)

you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.

you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.

you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.

you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.

it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.

102.4. perfect.

you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.

you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-

shit! sukuna.

there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.

you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.

you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.

which of course, he does.

a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.

"yes?" you croak.

"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.

"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.

"who the hell else would it be?"

"sorry... i was asleep."

"at this hour?"

"...what'dy'mean?"

"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"

you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?

"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.

"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"

"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.

"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."

fuckkkk.

how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.

"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"

"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.

"what exactly do you take me for?"

you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.

"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.

"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."

"i'm not i-ill."

"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"

this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."

"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."

"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."

"that's impossible."

"try me."

you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.

your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.

your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.

sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.

he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.

he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"

he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.

"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?

hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.

he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.

"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.

he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.

he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.

when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.

you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.

your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.

"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.

"why are we... what happened?"

"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."

your heart sinks. "how high?"

"when we got here, tipping past 105."

"...are you serious?"

"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."

he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’

"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"

"...i..."

"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."

you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"

"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."

you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"

"care?"

"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."

"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"

"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."

sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"

"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."

"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."

you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"

sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."

you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.

"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.

"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.

"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."

"kuna," you mumble.

"what?"

"can you... take me home?"

sukuna raises a brow. "home?"

"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."

"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."

"then bring them with."

"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."

"ten?!" you exclaim.

"you were very ill, (y/n)."

you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."

sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.

you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.

he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”

"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.

"what is it?"

you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."

the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."