#i kind of miss that au sometimes it was really fun to work on something so long

[zepskies]

Funnily enough, this is the first time I've ever written a professor AU! But thank you, lovely!! I loooooove the color scheme of the moodboard Liane created. It matched my personal aesthetic so well and the classic lit in there just provided the perfect creative fuel! lol 💕💕

thissssss is such a beautiful and bittersweet description 💗💗

Oh thank you!! 🙏🏽 I worked really hard on that little intro - really helped me set the scene.

this was such a clever “meet cute” !! 😩 (I mean not really given they are very aware of each other but like, personal meet cute?) and yeah judging by sir-stares-a-lot off to the side, i’m glad dean was there to assist her <33 public transportation can be exhausting sometimes fr 🤦🏽‍♀️

ehehe yes it's a kind of "meet cute" for sure! Oh God yeah, Dean was really needed there to assist in multiple ways lol. Public transportation can be scary for a woman alone, especially late at night!

I actually ended up having to withdraw from college a while ago (:/) but man if I had him as a professor ??? I would’ve had perfect attendance for sure 🫠💓

Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that. 😥

Very much agree though lol. If Dean were my professor, I'd never miss a class. 😏 And I'd have to record every lecture bc I probably wouldn't be able to catch everything he was saying lolll.

i went from aww to real to aw :/ and finally to how the hell did those girls find out 😭 but I will say my nosey ass is intrigued 👀 lmao

Oh you know how news like that travels. 🥲 That's definitely going to be a subject explored in the series!

boy if you don’t watch out :| i’d pull my taser out idc 😭

LMAO that gif of disappointed grandma killed me! 🤣 But yes, I'd threaten to tase him in the dick idc either 🙃

literally!! the other day this guy got unnecessarily close to me at the bus stop so i gave him a dead stare and asked if i can help him with something in a flat tone as I backed away from him, then he tried playing dumb like mannn I ain’t trying to hear all that, move !!🤚🏽

omgggg guys really do try it, don't they? So creepy. lmfao and you pulled out the "Can I help you??" 🤣

Sometimes you really do gotta --

I personally adore when someone talks about something they’re passionate about. it’s so refreshing because they actually care and you can see it, hear it. like personally I don’t really have a passion for anything anymore lol which i’m fine with now, it just makes it that much better when I encounter someone who does have that passionate spark, like yesss pls tell me all about that subject 🙂‍↕️♥️ i mean correct me if i’m wrong (<3) but you seem to have such a big passion for writing, like it shows how much you love to do this, how much you care and all the effort that goes into the entire process. it all reflects in your writing !! every time you write interesting tidbits and fun facts I find them so interesting. you seem like the chill english teachers i’d get along with, in the best way ofc !!💘 (ex-teacher’s pet here 😔😂) also I hope i’m making sense lovely, brady isn’t the only pothead here lmfao 😭🫶🏽

Yesss I feel the same way! I love it when people are passionate about a subject. I'm sorry you don't feel like you have that passion for something right now, but I hope you do discover something new to enjoy and geek out about. 💗💗

Oh you're very right about that lol. Writing and storytelling is my passion and one of my key creative outlets, so I've studied it and tried to make it my career too. Fanfic though is very self-indulgent for me lol. It's mainly where I come for escapism and to try new things creatively in my writing. I'm so glad you find the "tidbits/fun facts" interesting!! 🥹💕💕 Since I also teach English, this was a really fun story for me to write lol. I think I'd love to have you in my class! I'm on the whole very chill with my college peeps (though I can't be as much with high school 🤣).

lmaooo girl no worries, you're making perfect sense 😘

yesssss keep gathering her up in your warm strong arms dean 🙂‍↕️🙏🏽 lmfao

Right? Even I melted while writing that part~

this was truly such a wonderrrrfull story 💛 the mutal pining is killing me but it’s so good!🫠 idiots in love…except they’re both really smart and it’s not love yet, they’re just pining…but still!🤠

Aww thank you, my lovely!! 🥹💓💓 I'm so glad you enjoyed it! The mutual pining is gonna be tough to start with, but I think these two are going to "give in" sooner than you might think. We'll see when I actually start writing the rest of this. 🤣

10 'Til Midnight

Pairing: Professor!Dean Winchester x Student!Reader

Summary: A chance encounter outside of the classroom shifts the way you see your professor. Forever.

AN: Here’s a one-shot for @chevroletdean's 500 follower celebration! This also fulfills a request for one of my lovely Patreon members, @redhoodieone, who wanted to see AU Professor!Dean with a plus-sized student!reader. The reader is a graduate student (mid-20s) and Dean is in his 30s in this, so not really a wide age gap, but we’re still flirting with a gray area here lol.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: graduate student!reader, plus-sized!reader, Shakespeare geekery, mythology and other nerdy classic lit. references, AU Brady sighting, sexual tension, mutual pining(?)

The ash cloud of exhaust rose up from the sidewalk steam grates. It infiltrated your nose as you hurried down a few well-worn concrete steps and into the bowels of the subway, a transition into deeper darkness.

To you, that acrid, mini plume of pollution was the smell of New York City; old cigarette buds and weed hash, fresh tequeños and hot dogs wafting from the open door of the bodega on the corner, mixed with a whiff of piss.

This was the city of broke creatives clinging to their fragile dreams with both hands, usually while the natives rolled their eyes. You were one of those shiny happy people with a dream and the battle-tested will to make it happen, especially tonight. You finally got to see a play on Broadway, an excellent production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

You replayed your favorite scenes in your mind like 1940s movie reel, except it was live in technicolor. An unconscious smile spread across your lips, but you had to hurry. Your train was about to leave in…

You checked the time on your phone—ten minutes to midnight—and compared it to the digital sign up ahead. Your eyes widened.

Shit! One minute?!

You had no choice but to try and run in your heels. That had you skidding to the open doors as they began to close, but you just managed to slip inside, albeit literally slipping with a yelp.

A man saved you by grabbing hold of your arm and waist before you fell, bunching the fabric of your coat beneath his hand. You gasped when you stared up at a familiar face. A sharp jawline covered with stubble, just neat enough to be respectable; dark brows shaded over green eyes, trained on you; bowed lips pursed with confusion.

“Professor?” you said, breathless and shocked.

He was just as baffled, but he finished helping you up as your name fell from his lips.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded and thanked him for the save, still catching your breath.

“Here, sit down,” he said, gesturing to a couple of empty seats on the subway. You joined him in sitting, though you ignored the stare of the guy standing closest to you who was holding onto a rail. He wore jeans and dirty hipster Vans, a brown bomber jacket and a gray beanie. The stench of weed and cheap cologne clung to him.

And his gaze followed you until you sat down. Slightly unsettled, you were subtle in the way you angled yourself toward the man beside you.

Professor Dean Winchester.

He really was the last person you expected to see on your way home tonight. You still couldn’t believe you ran right into him!

But then, you noticed the playbill sticking out of his coat pocket (his coat looked more expensive, a dark charcoal gray with a high collar, and it suited him).

“Oh, you…you saw the play too?” you said in excitement, showing him your own playbill that you fished out of your purse. You’d told him about it a month ago, after his lecture on fairy lore. You thought he might enjoy a play that was all about the convergence between the fairy realm and the human realm.

He’d admitted that he’d never seen a Shakespeare play live, but he said he’d look into it. You didn’t think he was actually taking you seriously though.

“Uh, yeah, I did. I’ve never been a big Shakespeare guy, truth be told, but you hooked me,” he said. When he smiled, it made the corner of his eyes crinkle a little.

You couldn’t help but smile too every time you noticed that…even though it made your cheeks warm in a blush. He really had no business being this handsome. And the suit? All crisp and black, paired with a classic, off-white dress shirt and a black pinstripe tie.

Clearly he’d dressed for the occasion of going to the theater, because usually he was one of the chillest professors you knew. He showed up to class in jeans, boots, plain henleys and jackets, though never without his watch, a classic leather time piece with a silver watch face and bold black numbers. It was so vintage, you’d asked about it once when you met with him to talk about one of your essays on Native American burial practices. He’d told you that the watch belonged to his father, who passed away a few years ago now.

“So what’d you think?” you asked. “Weren’t the sets beautiful? It was so ominous and creepy in the ‘forest,’ and ethereal too, like the fairy realm part of it.”

He nodded, smiling slightly wider at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, was a good production. The actors were top-notch.”

“Oh, incredible. That was the best Bottom I’ve ever seen.” You paused, realizing what you said, and a nervous giggle tumbled out of your mouth. “Well, the character. Not the ass—donkey—whatever. You know what I mean.”

The man laughed, rich and deep and washing over you pleasantly, even though you half covered your face in embarrassment.

“Can’t argue with you there. The ass was hilarious,” he smirked.

Another giggle, and you flipped through the playbill again to distract yourself from looking at his ruggedly chiseled face. Why, oh why did he have to be so fucking attractive? And somehow he was still single. You’d heard some of the girls in your class whispering about it after class one day—a full-on engagement that fell apart two years ago.

“But really, the actors who played the couples in the love quadrangle were awesome,” you said. “Helena was my favorite.”

He raised his dark brows. “Really? The girl who gets shit on the most in the play?”

That was another thing. He didn’t really talk like any professor you’d met in your life. You let out a snort of laughter.

“I don’t want to be her, I just think she did so well at showing that vulnerability,” you explained. “There’s nothing worse than being in love with someone who doesn’t even see you, you know?”

He tilted his head, his amusement fading as he listened. You felt emboldened to continue your thought.

“In her mind, she’s probably thinking, ‘Well, even if he’s yelling at me, at least he’s acknowledging I exist,’” you said, “which is incredibly sad and isn’t giving Shakespeare many brownie points for feminism, but it’s a reality that some women go through.”

After a moment, he seemed to see your point with a nod of his head.

“That’s fair,” he said, arching a brow. “Though I gotta hope you don’t let any guy talk to you like that.”

You shook your head with a smile, but before you could answer him, your phone slipped off your lap and tumbled to the dirty subway floor. You twisted away so you could reach down and grab it, but you caught that whiff of cheap cologne again. Gray beanie guy let go of the rail and bent down to scoop up your phone before you could. You offered a polite thank you and went to take it back, but he held it out of reach at the last second, giving you a teasing smile.

“How about I put my number in first, so you can call me when you get home,” he said. “I’m Brady, by the way.”

That oh-so-gracious offer was followed by a glance down your dress. You sat up straighter, adjusting the collar of your coat back over your neckline with a weary huff.

“Ah, you know what, I’m good with just my phone…please.”

This was why you kind of hated the subway. You didn’t know when you were going to have to interact with a creep trying to steal your phone, shoot his shot, or look down your dress as a consolation prize.

You held out your hand expectantly, but still, “Brady” didn’t take the hint.

“Aw, what, you have a boyfriend or something?” he asked.

“Oh my God. Are you fucking serious?” You sighed and decided a white lie was best here. “Yes, I have a boyfriend. Now give me my phone, please.”

“Hmm. Is it like beginning stages, or...?”

“Jesus Christ, dude.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, maybe we can grab a bite to eat, theeen you know. If things are going well, we could take things back to your place,” he said, his brows popping with sleazy suggestion. He still held the phone away from your grasping hand in frustration.

“Hey,” a deep voice cut in. 

You hesitated, glancing back at Professor Winchester. He glared up at Brady with a stony look that you’d never seen on him before.

“Give her the damn phone,” said the professor. His tone boded no argument.

Still, Brady pushed his luck.

“What, you her boyfriend or something?”

The professor didn’t bother to answer the question, but he stood from his seat, his long coat draped down all six feet and change of him, broad shoulders and calm confidence. He stared down at the lankier, scruffier pothead. Then he held out his hand.

Brady shifted back on his heels, seeming to realize that he didn’t want this version of Midnight on the Orient Express—the kind that ended up on the 6 o’clock news the next morning. With a roll of his eyes, Brady dropped the phone into your professor’s hand, complete with a dickish quirk of his lips. Professor Winchester gestured at him to fuck off.

“Walk away,” he said.

To your astonishment, the Brady just tossed him a “fuck you, bro,” and went to the other end of the car. You stood up too, just as the subway pulled to a stop. Professor Winchester handed you the phone.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Is this your stop?” he asked, still glancing back with a suspicious eye at the asshole still glaring at your backs.

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Okay, come on,” the professor said. He laid a guiding hand on the small of your back and joined you in stepping out of the subway car. To your relief, Brady stayed on the train.

“Thank you,” you said again. “Really, you didn’t have to miss your exit for me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said, with a shake of his head. His frown was still in place just thinking of that fucking loser. “I’ll have better peace of mind knowing you got home safe.”  

Once you told him that your apartment was another few blocks away, he knew he was going to be walking you home. You told him you weren’t that new to the city, but in his mind, it still wasn’t a safe neighborhood for a young woman to be walking around by herself at this time of night.

He had no other motive than that, however…

He’d been pleasantly surprised to see you tonight. You were a flash of scarlet that tumbled into his arms, the scent of your floral perfume teasing his nose before he caught sight of that little dress clinging to your curvy form, ending just a couple inches above the knee. But you drew your wool coat closer to your body, hiding the tantalizing flash of red from view.

It was for the best, he thought, as he cleared his throat and tried to find something else to focus his eyes on while you two walked together. He couldn’t help but land on your face again, on your pretty painted lips.

A deep, full-bodied red.

It was a familiar shade. You’d worn it before, while chewing the end of a pen absently in concentration during one of his lectures on the difference between skinwalkers and shapeshifters—those long, pointed nails tapping a quiet rhythm against the plastic. It was one of your many quirks, but only now did he realize how much he’d actually noticed about you. If nothing else, he always knew he had your attention.

He also knew you were getting a master’s degree in English, and you were taking his class as an elective. You’d actually sought him out before the semester started to make sure you got a spot in his class.

“Sorry, sir, I know it’s early. I’ve just been trying since last year to get into this class, and I really wanted the chance to take it before I graduate this year.”

He’d shifted in his swivel chair with his jean-clad legs casually crossed. He bounced a tennis ball against the wall, as was his habit. (Mostly because it bothered Benny, who had the office next to his.)

The repetitive bounce really helped him to think sometimes; it was basically his version of a fidget spinner.

“You like mythology that much, huh?” Dean asked.

“Oh, yeah!” you said, as your eyes lit up. “I find it so fascinating how every culture in the world has their own stories that have still survived for thousands of years. Some of them even overlap. Like, maybe it’s technically a different creature, but they have the same name, just in another language. Or it’s the same creature, different backstory. It’s like any novel I’ve ever read—similar tropes, but the style, the packaging. That’s what becomes new and creative.”

Amusement tugged at Dean’s lips.

“Same candy, different wrapper, right?” he offered. His reward was your bright smile.

“Yeah, exactly.”

He’d approved your request without a second thought. Unlike 95% of the students who came and went through his classes, you weren’t just smart. You cared. You had a passion for this stuff…and it mirrored his own.

“So, uh, you liked that play, huh?” he asked. Wanted to rub his hand over his face right after. Smooth, Winchester.

But it succeeded in brightening your eyes again.

“Oh yeah. People tend to think of it as one of Shakespeare’s sillier plays, but it drops some interesting ideas about love, for example.” All while you spoke, you spun vivid gestures with your hands.

Dean’s remained in his coat pockets, but watching you made his smile deepen. He liked when you got like this, so animated and alive with your thoughts. It threatened to draw him out of his somewhat jaded shell.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asked. Not because he really wanted to talk about what some sixteenth-century ye olde-y English douche thought about love, but because he wanted to hear you explain it.

You didn’t disappoint.

“Well, there’s the famous Lysander line, ‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’” you said, “but that’s not even my favorite. That’s boring. That’s every rom-com ever, from Harry Met Sally to While You Were Sleeping, all the way to He’s Just Not that Into You, and Crazy, Stupid Love.”

Dean had to interject. “You watch a lot of chick-flicks, don’t you?”

Your lips puckered, but the amusement in your eyes answered his question.

“Like I said, I think Helena is the most underrated tragic figure in the whole story. Yeah, she’s pretty much a doormat, following Demetrius around even though he claims he’s in love with her best friend. Even though he curses at her, threatens to kill her if she keeps annoying him, following him around like an abused puppy. We can agree, he’s like, the biggest asshole in existence, right?” you said.

“Oh, very much agree. You want some coffee?” Dean asked, pointing to a guy selling warm pretzels and drinks from his vendor cart on the side of the road. It had stopped snowing a few days ago, but the February air was still sharp and bitterly cold at this time of night. If only it were midsummer.

“Uh, you know what, I could go for some tea. Thank you,” you said. But you didn’t let that derail you from your thoughts on Shakespearean love. You were still waxing literary analysis while you dug into your purse to find your wallet, but by the time you got it out, Dean had already paid for both drinks and a large soft-baked pretzel.

Your brows furrowed. “Oh! I meant to pay for my part—”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, take half,” Dean said, and he shot you a smile while handing over your hot tea and half of his pretzel. He got your eyes to light up for a different reason as you took the treat. You thanked him with a sweeter smile.

Then you took a bite, and you kept talking.

“But then she says, ‘Love can transpose to form and dignity.’ It can make us act like idiots, right? I mean, back in high school I wrote my boyfriend’s essays for a whole year because I didn’t want him to fail English, and let’s face it, he could barely spell his own last name.”

“Yikes,” Dean chuckled. Sounded like a GED and a gas station job in that guy’s future.

“Right? And what did he do? He dumped me the week before prom because he knew Ruby Summers would put out.” You rolled your eyes, accepting Dean’s sympathies with a gracious nod and a dismissive hand wave. Still, he hoped all you’d given to that guy was your time.

"Well, the guy you're seeing now better be treating you better," he said.

You blinked, your brows furrowing a bit in confusion, until realization dawned on you.

"Oh, I don't have a boyfriend," you said with a small chuckle. "That's just what I tell pushy weirdos on subways."

Dean was tripped up for a second, but he eventually quirked a smile.

“So anyway, my favorite bar of the whole play is what Helena says in Act 1,” you said. “‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’”

In that moment, Dean’s eyes were a little too captivated.

But you broke the spell.

You glanced ahead to continue along the crosswalk with him, taking another warm, soft bite of pretzel.

“And that’s why Cupid’s always painted like a blind baby…or something like that,” you said. You laughed a little, and you seemed to realize just how long you’d been yapping his ear off. You came to a stop at what he assumed was your apartment building, but you suddenly got quiet. Embarrassed.

“Sorry, once I open my mouth on this stuff, I can’t really stop unless someone stops me and tells me I’m literally killing them with words that don’t make sense.”

“You’re making a whole lotta sense to me,” Dean replied. And he realized that he meant it. He rubbed his chin in thought. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. I like that.”

Your mind seemed to be a hamster wheel on steroids, but he kind of liked that too.

“Well, did you like the play?” you asked, smiling in embarrassment. “Sorry, can’t remember if I even asked you that yet.”

He chuckled. Even if you had, he didn’t mind answering again.

“I like it more now, hearing you talk about it,” he said. But maybe that was too honest. He padded it with something more appropriate, as your instructor. “It makes sense, since you’re an English major, but your passion always comes through in your essays. I’m really glad you decided to take my class this semester.”

You demured further at the praise. “Oh, thank you. It really is my favorite class so far this year, but…that’s because you’re the one teaching it. You're really good at telling stories. You make them simple and easy to understand, even when we're talking about hell hounds and old ghost stories, or the uh, Oedipus complex, or something.”

Dean chuckled, but it was his turn to be touched, even if it surprised him too. You were just so honest and free enough to speak your mind. It was refreshing.

“Well, thank you. Glad to hear at least one person’s getting something out of it,” he said, his smile warming for once.

You smiled too, looking at him through your lashes. “All right well, thanks again for walking me home. I’ll, um…see you on Monday-ayy!”

You stepped up onto the first stair leading up to your apartment and caught an icy patch with your red-bottomed heels. A gasp fell from your lips as your arms spun out to catch yourself on anything that could keep you from falling, and that happened to be Dean—specifically his coat, and then his biceps when he moved in fast to keep you upright.

He ended up gathering you into his arms while you clung to his coat. Your red nails bit into the dark fabric. In his mind’s eye, he could imagine them popping the buttons of his dress shirt, carving shaky lines of heat and pleasure across his skin.

Fuck. He bit the inside of his cheek hard to rid himself of that image, his jaw ticking in response. But another one just replaced it when his gaze met yours, half-lidded and shocked, but…contemplating.

Hot breaths mingled in between, puffing visibly on the cold air.

“God, I’m sorry!” you breathed.

“Don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat past the slight roughness in his voice. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, um…Take Two,” you said, laughing weakly.

You aimed to let him go and continue on up the stairs by yourself, but Dean couldn’t stop himself from trying to help you. He held your elbow at least, with a hovering hand by your waist in case you slipped again. When you finally made it to the door, you paused and turned to look at him over your shoulder. Again, that look in your eyes said you were debating something in your mind.

“You okay?” he asked again.

You nodded. “Yeah, I just, um…you know what? Never mind. Uh, good night!”

Dean nodded, giving you a casual salute. He didn’t leave until you got in the building safely, but for his entire long walk home, your face wouldn’t leave his mind. That look of internal conflict, like you’d been weighing some kind of pros and cons. He had to wonder…

Had you been about to invite him up to your apartment?

But no. Fucking no. He dismissed that thought as soon as it came. He was almost ten years older than you.

Didn’t stop Catherine Zeta-Jones from hooking up with Michael Douglas. She’s barely pushing fifty while he’s halfway into Senior Depends.

Second problem. Career ending and reputation ruining and his own clock punch at the local 7/11—kind of a problem.

You were a student.

Grad student, came a whisper from the back of his mind.

In Greek mythology, the golden apples of Hesperides in Hera’s garden were guarded by a dragon. The Norse gods also believed in their own version of immortal golden apples, harvested by the goddess Idunn. Sounded a bit like Eden, right? As in, the Judeo-Christian Garden.

As in, forbidden fruit.

What did they all have in common? There was always a consequence for the taking and sampling part. The question was, is the price worth how good it tastes?

Remembering the feeling of your soft curves under his hands, Dean had a feeling it would be more than fucking worth it.

But he shook the thought from his head, his fingertips digging into the soft insides of his coat pockets.

He was your professor. That was where those thoughts should end.

You didn’t even see him that way…did you?

You shucked your heels off as soon as you got inside your apartment. You heaved a deep sigh and shed your purse, your coat, your earrings and necklace, which you set down on the nightstand in your bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and fell back onto the creaky mattress.

Your hands came to rest lightly over your stomach, a safe place, while you thought back to how Professor Winchester held you so tight. Secure. Gentlemanly.

How he looked at you, his green-eyed gaze falling to your lips, like he was contemplating the best way to close that distance, bowing his head those last few inches and…

You forcibly shook your head. He was your goddamn teacher.

It didn’t matter that he was probably the youngest faculty member on campus, and you were a twenty-five-year-old graduate student. Whether or not the man was “age appropriate,” he was still your professor. You couldn’t think about him like that.

And he absolutely didn’t look at you like that…

Did he?

AN: Sorry again for all the nerdy lit. tidbits, but I had fun. 😂 I'm thinking about expanding this into an actual little series, so let me know what you think! ❤️

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[linipik]

Witches ✨

[outeremissary]

You know I spent a lot of time reading Nuzlocke comics and fics as a teen and I think that really shaped my understanding of approaches to canon in fandom. Like there's fandom you're doing straight and trying to be faithful to the material on, and then there's fandom like a lot of the Good Stuff on Nuzlockes and wacked out chess AUs where you're somewhere on the sliding scale of remixes from "playing fast and loose with the base material" to "reality is whatever makes the story fun. heart." And they're both valid. God I fucking love how insane Nuzlocke comics could get.

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[artficlly]

read between the lines [one-shot]

college marvel au frat!jock!bucky x cheerleader!reader tutoring bucky barnes was already distracting enough, but leaving your diary in his room? that is a whole new problem.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, tutoring, first kiss, college au, vague panic from reader, idk it's just kinda fun and cute :), no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: hi this was for a request! so so cute, i wrote this so fast i didn't even think i would have it ready to post so quickly. idk anything about cheerleading or how college works in america, so forgive me. inspired by that willow song! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

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I’ve been tutoring Bucky.

Well, James, technically. But he goes by Bucky. Says it’s a childhood nickname and it just stuck, and honestly? That’s kind of adorable. Like, who clings to a nickname that hard? Even the professors call him that, which should be cringe, but somehow it’s not? It just suits him. I literally don’t think I could call him James even if I tried. ‘Bucky’ feels right. It sounds warm. Familiar. Stupidly charming.

Ugh. Anyway.

He’s in one of those frats I usually stay far away from. The kind that smells like cheap beer and Axe body spray. Always yelling, always playing music way too loud, always shirtless for no reason. I swore I’d never waste my time on a guy like that. I really thought he was gonna be a cocky, arrogant douche when I first got assigned to tutor him.

But he’s not. Like… at all?

He’s actually really nice. Like, unfairly nice. That casual kind of nice that makes you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed. He remembers stuff I say. Not the big stuff, the tiny stuff. Like how I chew my pen when I’m stressed, or how I like lemon Gatorade for cheerleading practice. And yesterday he brought me those sour gummy worms I mentioned ONE time. Just handed them over all casual like, ‘Thought you might want a little sugar after practice.’ Who does that?? Like… stop. That’s not fair.

But of course, he’s like that with everyone. That’s the worst part. He’s charming in this totally effortless way. Looks at you like you’re the most interesting person alive and then turns around and does the exact same thing to someone else. How am I supposed to know what’s real?

And GOD. He’s hot. Like, it’s actually rude. He laughs and it does something to me. Like full-on makes my brain stop working. And his ARMS?? Every time he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows I lose one year off my life. For real. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. (I mean, he’s not, but like… what if he is???) Sometimes I forget what I’m even explaining because he’s just sitting there smiling at me with those eyes and that stupid little smirk and suddenly I’m thinking about kissing him instead of confidence intervals. It’s not okay.

He’s on the football team. Scholarship guy. Big deal. Girls are obsessed with him. I’ve literally heard people talk about him in the locker room like he’s a celebrity. And me? I’m just… I don’t know. I’m me. I cheer and I study and I try not to let my GPA fall apart and I pretend I’m not crushing on someone completely out of my league.

So no. I’m not gonna say anything.

Because maybe I did catch him looking at me the other day when I tied my hair up. Maybe he does stay a little longer when we’re done. Maybe he leans in a little closer than necessary. But maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I want it too bad and I’m just reading into everything. I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to get hurt.

So I’m gonna do what I’m supposed to do. Help him pass stats. Smile when he brings me candy. Laugh at his dumb jokes. Pretend like my heart doesn’t skip a beat every time he says my name.

I’m just going to help him pass stats. That’s all this is. Right? God, I’m so dumb.

—

You were fucked. Well and truly screwed.

You couldn’t even focus during practice. Missed counts, off-beat claps, a completely botched dismount that nearly took you and the poor girl spotting you both out in one go. Natasha pulled you aside with that look—the one that said she was two seconds away from losing it—and muttered something about getting your shit together because the big game was in a week and this wasn’t the time to be spacing out.

But how were you supposed to focus? Your diary was missing.

Your actual, physical, spiral-bound diary filled with every unfiltered thought you’d been too scared to say out loud. The same one where you’d spent the last four pages gushing about Bucky freaking Barnes like some sad, delusional teenage cliché. You didn’t even want to think about what you wrote last night, something about his arms and the way he smiles and how you swore he looked at you differently when you tied your hair up. It was humiliating.

You never should’ve taken it out of your room. You knew it was a bad idea. But Yelena had been on one of her ‘I’m bored and nosy’ benders, and the last time you left anything out, she’d read your old poetry journal and quoted it back to you at breakfast. You weren’t about to risk that again. So, like a total idiot, you shoved your diary in your bag before heading to class, thinking you’d keep it safe with you.

The entire day had been chaos. You barely managed to scarf down lunch between lectures, and by the time your 3 p.m. class let out, you were already sprinting across campus to make it to Bucky’s place for tutoring. Not that you actually got much tutoring done. You never did, not when he looked at you with that stupid, easy grin, or leaned back in his chair like he owned the air around him. One second you were going over statistical formulas, and the next you were talking about childhood pets and favourite movies, laughing like you hadn’t just been drowning in assignments ten minutes earlier. Time always slipped away around him. You ended up bolting to cheer practice.

It wasn’t until hours later, back in your dorm with your bag dumped upside down on the floor, that you realised your diary was missing. Your diary. 

You’d spent a solid hour panicking, then a full thirty minutes rummaging through the lost and found at the campus security office, practically elbow-deep in a box of mismatched gloves and cracked phone cases. The guy behind the desk eventually looked up from his screen, where he was rather obviously playing solitaire, and told you with the energy of someone who very much did not care that maybe it hadn’t been handed in.

You wanted to scream.

Now your most personal, most mortifying thoughts were just out there. Floating around. God only knew where or with who. And sure, maybe whoever found it wouldn’t read it. Maybe they’d be a decent human being and just turn it in without flipping through. But let’s be honest, if you found a diary with someone’s deepest secrets in it, you’d probably peek too.

You were going to be sick. Actually sick. And not because Natasha had you running suicides again like she was training you for the NFL, but because your life might genuinely be over. Because if he found it? What if you left it in his room? What if Bucky read even one word of what you wrote?

You didn’t even want to finish that thought.

No, you literally couldn’t even finish that thought because, as Natasha finally called for the end of the session and the team began their warm-down stretches, swapping tired smiles and gulping down water, you saw him.

Bucky.

Standing at the edge of the field in that stupid grey hoodie, sleeves pushed up, all smug and handsome like he hadn’t just shown up to ruin your entire existence. He had that lazy, charming smile on his face, the one that made people trust him too fast, the one that made you trust him too fast, and in his hand?

Glittery blue cover. Spiral binding. Your diary.

You were going to throw up. No, genuinely, you could feel your stomach lurch. This was it. This was how you died. Not in a blaze of glory or during a botched basket toss, but here, sweaty, humiliated, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of the goddamn football field.

You didn’t even think. You just stormed over before anyone else could notice, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind the bleachers like it was a crime scene. Which it kind of was. A crime against your dignity.

Bucky didn’t protest. He followed easily, letting you pull him along like it was some sort of game. Of course he did. And of course, he was smiling the whole time, like you hadn’t just gone into cardiac arrest ten feet away.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could barely speak. It rattled in your chest like a warning, like it knew this moment was about to go down in your personal hall of shame.

“Where…how…why do you have that?” you hissed, snatching at the diary, but he held it just out of reach, still annoyingly calm.

He raised a brow, like you’d just asked him what two plus two was. “You left it at my place. After tutoring. You were in a rush, remember?”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Of course, it had been his place. Of course.

“I—I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, I just—” You were spiralling, words tumbling out too fast, too breathless, and your fingers were twitching like you might just snatch the book and sprint across campus. “Did you…Did you read it?”

A beat. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you.

And then, God, he smiled. Not the cocky one, not the football-star grin. This one was softer. Slower. Dangerous.

Your stomach dropped.

“I read enough,” he said.

You froze.

Your ears rang. Your mouth went dry. Your body just stopped.

“Enough?” you echoed, voice cracking halfway through. “Enough of what? Enough to—oh my God.”

You turned away instinctively, hand over your mouth like that could somehow keep your soul from escaping your body. Because what did that mean? What was ‘enough?’ Enough to ruin your life? Enough to laugh about it with his frat brothers? Enough to tell every girl on campus that the cheerleader who couldn’t even stick a full-out had a crush on him?

You didn’t even realise you were pacing until Bucky gently caught your wrist.

“Hey. Relax,” he said, and his voice was way too steady for someone holding the social equivalent of a loaded weapon.

You yanked your arm back like his touch burned. “Relax? Bucky, that was private. It’s literally a diary! It’s not for reading, it's for… spiralling in silence!”

He tilted his head a little, watching you carefully, and if he was offended by your panic, he didn’t show it. “You left it on my bed. Open.”

You groaned and covered your face with both hands. “Please. Just kill me. Right here. Hide the body under the bleachers. I’m serious.”

Bucky chuckled—chuckled, like this was some kind of joke—and stepped closer. You could feel his presence even before you lowered your hands again. 

“Why didn’t you just say something?” he asked, quiet now. “If you felt that way.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Because I didn’t know if it meant anything! You’re nice to everyone. You flirt like it’s a reflex. You remember everyone’s drink orders, compliment their outfits, hold doors and say all the right things. I thought I was just another person you were… nice to.”

He didn’t answer your panicked rambling right away. Just looked at you for a long moment.

“Yeah, I’m nice to people. Doesn’t mean I feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

“What?” you whispered, hating how small your voice sounded.

He held your gaze, completely serious now.

“Like I wanna kiss you every time you chew that damn pen cap. Like, I think about you even when I’m supposed to be studying. Like I can’t focus when you’re talking ‘cause all I do is stare at your damn lips.” He paused, and something almost like a laugh broke out of him, soft and self-conscious. “Like I’ve been trying to find a not-creepy way to tell you I like you since the second tutoring started, but you were always so focused and cool and out of my league.”

That last part made your head spin.

“Out of your league?” you repeated, eyes wide.

He smirked, stepping just a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Have you seen yourself? You’re smart, you’re so pretty it’s ridiculous, and you’ve got this whole thing where you act like you don’t know you’re the coolest girl on campus. Of course, I was nervous.”

You blinked at him. “Bucky… are you flirting with me behind the bleachers while holding my diary hostage?”

He grinned. “Maybe. Depends. Is it working?”

You tried to snatch the diary out of his hand, but he was faster, effortlessly holding it just out of reach like it weighed nothing.

“God, I hate you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, bouncing up on your toes in a desperate attempt to grab it. All it earned you was the embarrassing realisation that you were now fully pressed against his chest, warm, broad, and stupidly solid.

“You really don’t, at least not according to this—” he said, low and smug.

“Bucky!” you warned, trying to reach again, but he shifted it higher.

“Give. It. Back,” you hissed, practically climbing him at this point.

“I will,” he said, eyes flicking down to your mouth in a way that made your stomach twist and your breath catch. “But only if you let me kiss you first.”

Your brain short-circuited. Completely and entirely. The words took a second to process. His voice had dropped, softer now, more serious, like he wasn’t just messing with you anymore.

You looked up at him, heart thudding so loudly against your ribs you swore he could hear it. His eyes searched yours, and for once, he didn’t look like the effortlessly confident guy everyone knew. He looked… nervous like he was the one waiting to be rejected.

“…Fine,” you whispered, the word barely making it past your lips, but your smile gave you away. It was impossible to hide, giddy and crooked and ridiculous.

And then he kissed you.

He bent his head and closed the gap like he’d been waiting weeks for it—maybe he had. His mouth was warm and sure against yours, one arm still holding the diary hostage, the other dropping to your waist, pulling you in like he couldn’t help himself. You kissed him back without thinking, without doubting, like maybe this was the answer you’d been afraid to ask for all along.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and blinking at each other like idiots, he handed over the diary with a grin.

“Okay,” you whispered, still a little breathless. “That was… good.”

“Just good?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “Don’t push it.”

He laughed softly, thumb still brushing your cheek. “So… does this mean I get to keep seeing you after stats is over? Or do I have to fail on purpose to keep you around?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right. You’d probably kill me.”

“More like definitely.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. He looked at you like he already knew what you were thinking. And for once, you didn’t feel like running from it.

You were so, so screwed.

But maybe… in the best way possible.

[buryhny]

One Night Stand ; 48

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n → contains smut, fluff and angst → Chapter forty eight ; wc | 3.5k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Your days are completely different now, you've always got something to do now. You're super occupied and you're hanging around. Some days are more difficult than others and some are so much more fun but it's all going stable now and you've found your routine that works well for Jungkook and yourself.

He goes to work and returns early, meanwhile, you spend the day with the little one, constantly watching her even when she's sleeping, its...soothing in a way. It helps relieve all your stress even though the little one is the major stress factor.

She drinks pretty well, she's got her little routine too. Always wakes up at 4 am drinks some milk, pees in the next 30 minutes then falls asleep and wakes up in another 2 hours. Misoo loves her sleep and you're so thankful for that because it allows you to sleep well too. You take naps whenever she sleeps and the little one is so quiet, you don't even hear her cries sometimes.

Her cries are sweet, she's so soft, it always makes you pout. You are so lucky to have Jungkook with you because even when he's dead tired, even when work is so stressful he always, always leaves it at the office. Never does he bring his work, home.

Sometimes you both would get into a little argument about this and he would always tell "When I come home, I'm taking care of my girlfriend and child and no fucking work comes in between us."

and it would always shut you up cause the second he lets those words out, next he's pulling you into his arms and hugging you. You've grown so much in the past few months, you've learned to be patient, more understanding and just...listen sometimes.

Your stubborn nature is alive but it doesn't show as often as you used to. You've learned to grasp the situation first and understand it, being stoned to your words or actions doesn't work all the time.

You feel stronger each day but....you can't cover up feeling weak sometimes. Sure, you've always felt confident about yourself and your appearance but that was a different life, now... you're a mom, a mother to a beautiful daughter and you've changed, you've gotten bigger in certain areas,

the little stretch marks do show and...you don't feel very confident anymore, some days you motivate yourself, compliment yourself and it works, it helps but with all the changes, you noticed how you barely spend time with Jungkook.

Insecure thoughts pick up your mind and you can't help but feel as though you're the cause of this...distance. Jungkook comes back home and spends all his time with the little one, he doesn't want to miss anything anymore so he makes sure he spends his free time after work with her which is understandable but...

you feel insecure about this and thoughts like 'am i not... attractive enough?' always trigger you. Jungkook on the other hand is so happy to be here in this moment, in all the moments with the little one and you. he takes you both on drives, for ice cream, for dinners and anything in which he can make your days different. You deserve to have fun too, you know.

Just because you're a mom now doesn't mean you're supposed to stay home all day, just taking care of the baby. You should be out there, enjoying life. And he makes sure that you do.Some days, you don't feel like dressing up—and that's fine.

He never says a word, because he gets it. Lazy days are part of life, and he thinks they're kind of cute, honestly.But lately... he's noticed something different. The way you've started dressing—it's not really you. It's not that he wants you to wear anything specific; it's not about the clothes.

It's about why you're wearing them. You've been hiding your body, shrinking yourself, and that's what hurts him.He's always loved how confident you were—it's part of what drew him to you.

That fire, that comfort in your own skin. Seeing you dim that light because of insecurity... breaks his heart a little. Because to him, you've never been anything less than beautiful "Hey baby, we can leave in an hour so don't worry about taking time okay?"

he murmurs as he fixes the collar of his black shirt. "yeah..I'm done anyway." you say as you tuck the sweater inside the office skirt. Jungkook takes one look at you and tilts his head. "you really like that skirt." he chuckles. You laugh and shake your head. "oh no, it's the only skirt that tightens my pouch a bit."

this pulls a string inside Jungkook's head. He takes a deep breath before walking to the shared closet. He opens it up and looks through the dresses you have. Which- you have a whole collection of.

You have a whole collection of them. You frown and turn to look at him. "What are you looking for?" you ask while putting on stud earrings. "This—"

he whispers, pulling out a mini dress that stops above your knee, is off-shoulders and... is slightly sheer?

"You're wearing this." He smiles and walks to you.

"Jungkook, what? No— I'm not wearing this—" you mutter, looking at him in shock. "I'm already dressed? And... that's my old clothes."

"Baby...." he sighs. "I know you wear this skirt because it makes you feel comfortable, and that's okay," he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

"But you don't have to hide anything, alright?"

His hand gently brushes over your hip—not to persuade, but to remind. To reassure.

"You don't have to tuck your belly away behind some skirt like it's something you should be ashamed of."

You glance down at the dress in your hands, the one you pulled from the back of the closet and instantly doubted.

"I'm not gonna wear this. It's too short and... it's just not for me anymore."

His face falls—not out of frustration, but sadness.

"Y/N, stop," he says, stepping closer, voice soft but firm. "Stop thinking you're not meant for any of this."

"You're so young. So beautiful. And you've got every reason, every right, and all the fire in you to wear whatever the hell you want. Please—don't let being a mom convince you that you're not allowed to feel good in your own skin."

He smiles, the kind that holds nothing but love.

"You haven't lost that part of you. And I haven't stopped seeing it," he speaks, throwing the dress on the bed. He can't see you like this anymore, being... something you're not.

"Jungkook...." You place your hands on his shoulders and look down. "I—" you don't know what to say because... you were just concerned about him and how he might not like the change in you, but you were surely mistaken because this man... this man loves you for who you are and not what you wear.

"I want you to live life too. Being a mom doesn't mean you have to restrict yourself—fuck, you're so young, Y/N, and... you have no idea how beautiful you look, every single day..."

He chuckles about what he's gonna say next. He sees the tears welling up in your eyes, and all he wants to do now is make you laugh. "I know Lee Y/N does not need male validation and opinions—"

This indeed makes you laugh, hitting his chest as the tears go down your face. You roll your eyes at his words and nod. Yeah, you don't need male validation but... it's a little different now. His opinions, actions, words—everything does matter to you now.

Jungkook wipes off the tears and cups your cheeks.

"I want you to pick any dress from your closet. I don't give a fuck about the length or how thin the material is gonna be. I can fight and—fuck 'em guys or girls who look at you. You're my woman anyway," he whispers, a smirk pasted on his face.

His eyes search you as he speaks, and those words—they make your knees wobbly. You just wanna melt. How does this man keep getting attractive by his words and actions every day?

"Yeah?" you nod at his words and shy away, to which he smiles softly. "Take your time. Dinner can wait and—don't worry about Misoo, I'll get her stuff." He walks out the room to pack her backpack.

You look at the dress he picked. This was one of your finest pieces back then... shit. The words "back then" sound so crazy in your mind. But yeah, back then, when you were single and mingling with other guys.

He'd given you the option to wear whatever, but you go with his choice.

You strip out of your skirt and sweater, slipping into the little black dress. Of course, the makeup had to change too. Concealer and lip gloss felt too plain for a dress like that.

You went for a soft nude base, a bit of shadow on your lids, highlighter catching the light just right. A muted pink blush for warmth—nothing too loud. But the lips? Bold. Dramatic. A shade that pulled everything together.

The rest whispered, but your lips did the talking.

You put on textured earrings, wore the Tiffany bracelet and sapphire rings that Jungkook got you a week ago, and finished the look by opening your hair.

You weren't sure if you should wear high heels, so you managed with a 3-inch heel—you had a baby to carry anyway.

Jungkook knocked on the door before he walked in and... boy was he stunned. He missed this. So much.

The smirk on his face grew wide as he walked closer to you with the little one in his arms.

"Oh darling..." he began, his eyes scanning you while you stand in front of him with a smile on your face.

"Tell me you feel good." You nod quickly, heart fluttering. Of course you felt amazing—how could you not? You hadn't realized just how much you missed dressing up.

There was a spark again, one you hadn't felt in a while. You were grateful he knocked some sense into you, because right now... you felt powerful.

"I do, Jungkook," you breathe, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I really do."

He steps closer, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you into his chest. "It's not the dress that looks gorgeous," he murmurs, eyes locked on yours.

"It's you wearing it that makes this damn piece of cloth look like luxury."

He's so good with his words, if he continues to do this all night you might just... have his baby again. This was one of the most memorable moments you've had within the past few months with him.

Jungkook and you have a stable relationship. When days are bad, you both just time out, take the time to relax and understand because you're stressed out, running with less sleep, and he's stressed out about work. So instead of putting it on each other, you both take time to calm down and then a conversation solves it all.

Sex is something you both really. Fucking. Want.

But it's highly likely that you might carry his baby again, and that's not happening. Nope.

Living with a newborn is so difficult because how? How can you not have 10 more of them? But also not want... any? The little milestones she's achieved are incredible. You've kept a track of everything by each month.

You've taken your time off all social media. You spend your free time meditating, learning how to cook—though you... failed many times, broke a couple of mugs, and also almost started a fire by doing steak.

You try to spend as much time as possible at the gym, even though you're often sleep-deprived and sometimes feel lazy. Thoughts like "not now, maybe another day" or "ugh, I can't leave this cozy bed" constantly pop into your head—but you push through them.

You know the longer you wait to start, the harder it'll be to lose that pouch and get in shape.

So, you began as early as you could, and honestly, it feels amazing now—totally worth all those moments when staying in bed felt like the better choice.

You wanna be a hot mother and fuck—you're a young woman. There's so much you wanna do with Jungkook, and for that, you need to be fit and confident in yourself.

You always feel so much better when you're done with gym for the day, it's like a relief. You haven't skipped any meals, neither do you cut down on any food because there's no need to restrict yourself so much. You can do everything if you just move your body enough.

You treat yourself with a dessert every night after your high-protein meals and life has never been sweeter before. Jungkook loves your routine, he thinks it's healthy and he sees you glow.

Sure, there are crazy days. Sometimes he'll catch you quietly crying when the day doesn't go your way, and that clenches his heart—especially since he feels guilty that he can't be with you all the time, with all the work he's loaded with. So he makes sure he takes on the night duty even though you tell him it's okay. He always insists.

The little one grew up so fast, in the blink of your eyes.

She went from barely opening her eyes to locking them with yours every time you speak.

Her cries speak to you now—it's amazing how you just know what each one means. Hungry, wet, uncomfortable. It's like your heart decodes her before your brain can even catch up.

Of course, there are days when you have no idea what she needs, and those days feel like torture.

Because what the hell is she crying for?! Is it gas? Is she overtired? Does she just want to be held and walked in endless circles?

You don't know. You try everything. And when nothing works—you crack. You burst out in frustration, not at her, but at the helplessness of it all.

Because loving someone this small, this deeply, while not always knowing how to help them—it breaks you in the softest, fiercest ways.

Misoo is dependent on her parents, on Jungkook and you, and even though her mommy runs to her at any inconvenience, you can tell, you can just tell... that she has a different bond with her dada. Because she always calms down when her skin makes contact with his.

And even though Jungkook doesn't realize that, you see it—and maybe just... maybe the little one has this unique bond with her father because of all that they both have been through. She smiled for the first time—not as a reflex, but for real. A social smile. And it happened while she was in her father's arms.

She lay curled in the safety of his hold, her tiny body resting snugly across his knees as he gently bounced her up and down, eyes locked on hers like she was the only thing that existed.

"Where's my little bunny?" he asked in that playful, soft voice she'd already grown to recognize. "Is it you? Mmm? Is my little bunny you? Mmm, Misoo? Are you my little bunny wunny?"

And then she did it.

The corner of her lips curved up, slow and sure, as if something deep inside her recognized him. As if she knew she was loved. And maybe she didn't understand his words, but she felt the way they wrapped around her like a lullaby. Jungkook giggled at that, whispering for you to come see.

"Y/N, fast! She's smiling, come here!"

You rush to see your little one smile, but it was too late—she'd already moved her lips. "Come on, Misoo, smile for your mama. My little bunny, aren't you my bunny wunny, huh?" Then she smiles, and he chuckles.

"There she smiles~"

This is just one of the moments. She's had many milestones the past few months, like how she can hold her toys more firmly. She plays with the rattle, making loud sounds that sometimes irritate you, but hey...

she makes them now—you don't have to hold it and shake it anymore. She's got her very own bunny now, that Jungkook got when he passed by the Jellycat store in London while he was on a 3-day business trip. He was on his way to the car with his business partners, but he just had to stop by the plushie store, so he told them he'd catch them later and made his way to the Jellycat store.

He wished to get the huge one but realized it would be of no use now since Misoo is too tiny, so he saved that for when she grows up to be a toddler. There were so many options in so many sizes he was going crazy, but when his eyes found the rabbit collection, he knew that was where his heart lay.

There were plenty of colors to choose from, but the pink one reminded him of his girl too much to ignore. He picked the small pink bunny—the perfect size for her tiny arms—and didn't think twice.

Of course, he didn't forget you. He made his stop at Cartier, found a Love bracelet he knew would look just right on your wrist. He chose the white gold—because he remembers you've never really been a fan of yellow.

Every time he travels overseas, he comes back with a suitcase full of things. Clothes, shoes, and toys for his little one. Candies, jewelry, and pieces from all the brands you casually mention in passing. He spoils you both, not just with gifts, but with the thought behind them. Because to him, having a family he actually wants to come home to—that he gets to miss and return to—is everything.

And what's money, really, if he can't spend it on the two people who make it all worth it?

And coming back home to his daughter reaching a new milestone is crazier, because now you come running to him, screaming,

"She rolled to her tummy and back today!!!!"

And Jungkook is carrying her in his arms and hugging her. "Bunny, you did it!!"

Misoo clearly has her favorites—well, favorite. She loves her father. No, love is too small a word—she's absolutely obsessed with him.

There's nothing she adores more. She's clingy. So clingy. On movie days, she refuses to sit anywhere unless she's got her tiny fingers wrapped around her father's arm, claiming it like it's her birthright.

And it makes Jungkook laugh every single time. Because at this point, he's not raising one baby—he's got two. If Misoo's got his left arm, you're already curled up on his right, just as possessive.

He's trapped—in the best way possible.

Trapped between the two people he loves most in the world, covered in tiny hands and sleepy cuddles. And honestly? He wouldn't have it any other way.

Misoo is growing up fast, because as each movie week passes by, it gets different. She's gone from sleeping the whole time to babbling for the whole hour.

You just wanna watch the movie and eat popcorn but no—the young lady there has a whole different plan. She has to go on and on, explaining whatever in her language, making you mad.

But Jungkook there is laughing as he nods to whatever she says, talking back even—making this movie experience an absolute shit to you.

It is cute, yeah, but... not all the time!! Especially when the action scene happens. It's crazy how each month is a different experience—it's life-changing, truly.

You've got company all the time. She's quiet and calm.

Misoo looks a lot like Jungkook the older she grows. She's got his nose and eyes. The only thing that matches you are her lips—she's got the plump lips like you, and Jungkook always says he's so thankful for that because he fucking loves your lips.

Jungkook and you involve yourselves in foreplay but never sex. He doesn't wanna take the risk of getting you pregnant because your chances are still very high, and no... even condoms are a no.

So things are tough for the both of you. He can't resist, neither can you—so fingering, BJs, making out is all you two do. And it works. It's... good. Fucking good.

Everything had been going okay until Hoseok finally got time to meet you. He'd been planning for months, but the time wasn't in his favor, so when he did have it, Misoo was already 5 months old—which he was sad about, but you told him to chill, you sent him pictures all the time anyway.

Jungkook would always roll his eyes when you sent Hoseok messages. He wasn't possessive or anything, he just loved to pull your leg—and sometimes... he was straight-up jealous.

Hoseok decided to come by on a weekend, but he didn't come alone like he said he was gonna.

He had someone with him.

Someone you never met before....

next chapter ⇢

min's notes ; Sorry y'all I posted late z I was out, anyways one more chap left yay! Also I never went abroad z my dad got sick so... that's why I could update, hope y'all enjoyed reading !!

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[soo0hee]

A Teachers Crush

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader

Summary — Falling for your coworker was never a good idea and it was no surprise that at one point things couldn't go on the way it was anymore...

Genre — fluff, angst, kindergarten!au

Warnings — kisses, some cursing

Word Count — 3.1k

Rating — pg-13

A/N — I got it done @tusswrites ! Have fun with teacher!hannie my luv✨️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Working with Yoon Jeonghan was delightful and a nightmare all at the same time.

For one, he was an amazing coworker. Reliable, loyal, funny, kind, helpful and so many more things you could name that would probably tale ages if you had to list them all.

He was wonderful with the kids you and him taught together and he was definitely one of their favorite teachers in the entire kindergarten! Watching him play with them left you feeling warm and fuzzy. Butterflies were flying wildly inside you’re your stomach every single time without fail.

On the other hand, you felt like your heart would explode if you stayed in his proximity for to long… What could you say? You were crushing hard on your coworker and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Handing you your favorite mug with little blue snowflakes covering the porcelain surface early in the morning send a small tired smile on your lips.

“Thank you.” You yawned, flipping mindlessly through the book you planned on reading with the kids later in the day.

“Is it time for The Gruffalo again, hm?” Jeonghan snickered at your sighes.

“Well unless you got something better planned for todays morning circle, then yes. It’s time for The Gruffalo.” You shrugged.

It was only 7:24 am, meaning the only teachers who were around were you and Jeonghan, at least for another half an hour and you were sure that the first kid would arrive soon. In fact, you could hear the happy babbling of the first boy with his mom in the hallway while hanging up his jacket and putting on his indoor shoes.

A little did you dread the encounter with the kids mom. Not because she was a rude person, no! But you knew that when this woman started talking, there was no way she would stop soon. Sometimes you really wondered how she got to work on time…

“Good morniiing, Miss y/n!” You almost jumped at the sudden voice of in front of you. You hadn’t even notice that the boy appeared in the group room until he stood right in front of you, waiting to greet you.

It was custom for you that once the kids were inside, they would greet you one by one so you knew that the child arrived and the child in return felt seen by you. It didn’t mean that it always worked, especially if there are a lot of kids arriving at the same time and someone slips past you into the room. But now you did notice.

“Good Morning, Chan! How do you want to say hello? Do you want to shake my hand, fist bump or high five?” you asked the boy who thought for a second about his options.

“High Five please!”

Holding up your hand so he could easily reach it you gave him a High Five and let him go to decide what he wanted to do next.

Chan walked to the small couch you had tucked away in a more quiet corner of the room where there were books on a shelf on the side and a well loved TonieBox with it’s storytime figurines. Soon the theme track of PawPatrol was heard as he calmly flipped through a book about the fire department. He did this every morning without fail, rather choosing to play by himself while waiting for the next kid to come that he could play with instead of playing a game with you or Jeonghan. Some kids simply had their routines they needed to follow to feel comfortable and that was fine with you. After all, you, Jeonghan and the other teachers did the same thing when arriving.

“Does he have his lunch in a box today, or will he be eating with us?” Jeonghan asked, standing behind you, now with his hand resting on your shoulder. It took a lot from you not to flinch in surprise, especially when you felt his thumb gently caressing the skin that wasn’t covered by your sweater.

Feeling significantly warmer by the second at his touch, you shut the book that was still open and set it aside for later.

“Channie has his lunch in his bagpack today and would it be possible to pick him up a bit eralier today? I know you have your pick up times bit we have a doctors appointment later today and it would be really stressful to be on time for that if I come later.”

You nodded. “Of course! Just ring the bell and someone will let you in then.”

The mother put her hands together as a thankful gesture and said goodbye to her son once more. Chan barely registered his mother talking to him as he was absorbed in the adventure of the firemen on his pages. He muttered a quiet, “Bye mommy!” without looking up and his mother was out the door just when as the next girl arrived and the entire spiel started anew.

However seeing the tears spill from Lily’s eyes at the prospect of having to let go of her dad you got up, missing the warmth of Jeonghans hand on you almost immediately, to approach them.

You wiped her tears with a tissue from the box to your left and held out your arms which she willingly fell into while hiding her face in your shoulder.

“She didn’t sleep that well tonight, so she’s a bit grouchy.” Her father sighed sadly.

“Oh, that’s okay. We all have nights like that, don’t we?” you coed at the girl in your arms while running your hand over her back to sooth her little sobs.

Lily nodded hesitantly but evidently calmer then just a moment before.

Knowing that his daughter was okay with you, he said goodbye eliciting a little whimper from the girl.

“Wanna wave…” She sniffeled loud enough so you and her father could hear her.

The famous “Waving Window” was something the kids loved to go to in the morning. It was a window that they could see their parents once more and wave to them while they walked out to their cars.

“Want me to come with you? Or do you want to wave alone?”

“With you...”

Her father nodded in understanding, told her goodbye and left you and Lily to go to the Waving Window.

Together you watched a woman walk by with her dogs, before pointing to the man waiting for his child to wave goodbye.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at the sight on the window. Lily was still snuggled into your side but now much calmer and conversing with you and another girl that had just come in about the dogs you had seen.

Ever since you had come to work with him few years ago, he had slowly gotten to know more about you and how you ticked.

To those you didn’t know and who didn’t know you, you could seem standoffish, quiet and desinterested in others, but not long into your partnership he found out just how delightful you really were. Soft, kind, funny, determined, loving. All words he would use to describe you and in quiet moments like this, it showed the most.

Free from the stress of the day you were able to take the time you needed with the girl to bond. Something that sometimes fell through with 25 kids per class who all needed or wanted your attention at the same time.

“Admiring your work wife again, huh?” Soyeon, the teacher from a different class came in and teased at witnessing his star struck face and the male felt his cheeks heat up.

“What? No! I was not-“

The woman raised her eyebrow and Jeonghan fell silent with a huff.

“Oh shut it.”

-----------

The day was surprisingly calm if you were being honest. With the cold weather the season brought with it, quite a few kids were sick and stayed at home and around lunch time, your group of 25 was reduced to 14 in total.

Calm.

While the kids ate their food with Jeonghan helping where he was needed, you went to the other room besides yours where you had a small library to put the book back where it belonged. The giant box on top of the shelf containing some paper you needed to prepare an activity for the next few days mocking you as it was to high for you to reach on your own.

“Jeonghan? Can you come over here?” You called and his face promptly appeared in view.

“Do you need something?”

“Yeah can you get the box down from there?” You pointed to the shelf, pouting that you couldn’t do it yourself.

The man laughed quietly and came in, dogging your weak slap to his shoulder.

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m not, I promise!”

Unimpressed you tilted your head.

“Just help me, you idiot.” You couldn’t stop the smile at his antics and stuck your tongue out at him.

Jeonghan came to a stop and your heart faltered when you realized that he was merely inches away from you, grabbing the box and took it down just to lean even closer.

“Here…”

The words suddenly seemed to be stuck in your throat and for a moment you were frozen as you felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin until-

“Are you going to kiss now?”

You jumped in shock. Riki, one of the older boys stood in the door giggling at the sight of his teachers being face to face like this.

Neither of you had noticed the door slowly closing behind the male teacher just like neither of you had noticed the boy opening it again.

“No!” you squeaked while Jeonghan almost dropped the box in his hands.

“Go back to your seat and eat, Riki Nishimura!” Your coworker rushed out, looking every bit as embarrassed as you felt.

Situations like this weren’t new, for neither of you. They happened all the time and at this point you should be used to it.

After all, for months your kids thought you and Jeonghan were married and it took a lot to convince them otherwise.

“But why aren’t you married?” Mari, one of the younger girls wanted to know, not understanding why you weren’t. You had stammered out a half hearted explanation which didn’t leave them satisfied but they also didn’t ask any further.

The worst however was when even the parents started making little comments here and there.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! Y-yeah, I’m good.” You swallowed and quickly left him standing there. Jeonghan stood there for a few moments longer. Rikis words had shifted something in him, something he had tried to bury deep down within him.

They echoed in his mind over and over again.

“Are you going to kiss now?”

No, but he wanted to.

And he had wanted to for so long already, he wasn’t quite sure when it had started.

Was it when he hot to know you? Or when he saw how much you loved what you did?

Or maybe when he realized just how much your eyes sparkled when he talked to you… how his heart sped up when he heard you laugh about something.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and back to reality. A reality where you had run from him…

---------

You felt awfull.

After having run out on Jeonghan you had done everything you could so you didn’t have to talk with. Way to embarrassed by the realizations that had been kick started. So much so, that you didn’t know how to act around him going forward.

You fell silent every time Jeonghan stepped into the room, avoided looking at him and only spoke to him when you absolutely had too.

It irked the man to no end to see you so quiet. Dull almost.

Want to meet up tonight? Go out for drinks with me, Soyeon, Nayeon and Shua? – received 5:34 pm

Staring down your phone you considered not answering his text. You had done so before and if you had then with short answers only.

The prospect of meeting in private after having avoided him for almost 2 weeks and you missed him. Kind of.

I’ll be there – sent 5:46 pm

The bar was just a few minutes away from your apartment by bus and you were determent to have some fun tonight even if you had to play the game of faces and after a few to many drinks you were sure you could get through the night without to much drama.

It was a fun evening, laughing at what Joshua said, Soyeons dad jokes and Nayeons playful flirting with the waiter. That was until you watched Jeonghan chat with the barkeeper a little to smiley when getting their drinks.

Your eyes were glued to the scene at the bar, not able to look away as you suddenly felt tears filling your eyes.

“I have to go.” You suddenly said, cutting of the conversations your fellow teachers had been having, still staring.

“What? Why? Can’t you stay a bit longer?” Nayeon whined at the prospect of having to let you go already. Joshua on the other hand followed your eyes and understood why you wanted to leave. They weren’t blind. None of the were and all of the had seen the switch in you flip to what ever was happening.

“Will you be safe?” he asked ever the gentleman to which you just nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Joshua helped you up, catching you when you stumbled a bit before wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug.

“Tell him, I promise I won’t go bad.”

“Goodbye Shua…”

With that you were out, walking to the bus station closest to the bar just as Jeonghan came back to the table.

It was cold, only wearing a thin leather jacket over your dress and shivering when you saw the little 11 on the display next to your bus number. You took a deep breath, filling your lung with the cold air cleared your mind and made it fuzzy all at once.

Having seen the barkeeper you knew you couldn’t compare to that. She was pretty, thin, big boobs and a beautiful face and if Jeonghan was as attracted to her as it had seemed like, then you were no match with someone like that.

You didn’t know if you could keep working like that if you had to watch Jeonghan be happy.

Happy with someone that wasn’t you.

“You’re leaving already?” Jeonghans voice startled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m tired. Ready for bed and all…” you hummed out, looking down at your feet and tightening the hold around yourself.

He slowly came to stand by your side. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Y/n, please talk to me… what happened to us?”

You swallowed harshly, continuing to avoid his stares.

“Nothing happened. We just didn’t have time to talk much recently.”

The man scoffed.

“We did have time, you just chose not have any and I want- no, I need to know why!”

Turning around to face him you found him staring right into your eyes. Your knees threatened to buckle underneath you.

“Just let it go, Jeonghan. I just want to go home!” you sighed. You weren’t in the mood to talk and you sure as hell weren’t in the mood t look at his soft eyes longer then you had to.

“Not until we talk. Your bus as still a few minutes away and I need to know… Is this about what Riki said? If what he said made you uncomfortable, then I’m sorry. He’s a kid, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not about that!” you said now a bit louder, catching the attention of the people around.

“Then what is it about? Because ei don’t get it! One day we could talk about every thing and the next you wouldn’t look at me. Is the though of kissing me that disgusting to you? Is that it?”

“No! It’s not and that is the problem!”

Shocked by your admission you stepped back, trying to get away as fast as possible.

“What?” Jeonghan stood there, eyes blown wide and looking every bit as beautiful as always.

“Just go back inside. I’m sure the others are waiting for you.”

“I won’t, because when if I heard that right- if I understand what you just said, right��� then that would mean that-“

“-I would actually love to kiss you…”

Jeonghan bridged the distance with a few quick steps, cupped your face with his hands and huffed, “Good.” Before his lips crashed into your’s. He knocked the breath out of your lungs and you pulled back only an inch before staring back up at him and surging forward to meet him again.

His soft lips moved smoothly against yours desperate and loving all at once and you knew you didn’t want this moment to end. Hands around his neck, you pressed your body against his, felt his right hand wander to the back of your neck to firmly rest there and his left falling to your waist.

The bus arrived, let passenger in and drove off again.

You couldn’t care less.

You were in absolute bliss at the moment. Kissing the man you had longed for so long like your life depended on it until you had to stop to gasp for air. His nose brushing against yours and his lips merely an inch away from your own.

“I hope what ever doubt has been manifesting in your mind is now gone.” Jeonghan whispered earnestly and all you could do was stare.

“And I want you to know that I would love to kiss you again… until you’re so tired of it that you really will run from me.” The smile he gave you made your heart beat 3 times faster.

“Brave of you to think that will be the case.” You teased back followed by a wink.

[kiwibongos]

woohoo finally sharing some art for my kzhn yakuza au!!! the normal one not the sega one. excuse the ref its a little old but might as well share it

yap dump time (kept it as short as i could sorry lol)

it starts as hajime & natsumi becoming close friends early on, and because of her, him and fuyuhiko also become besties. though fuyuhiko was never the type to get close with anyone (and still hadnt befriended anyone at hpa yet), hajime was interested in him and got him to let down his walls. they quickly click and grow close, and the three form some kind of a trio as well. they all get along, have fun together, do normal teen shit, but keep in mind hajime actually has no idea that the kuzuryu siblings are part of the yakuza. to him theyre just regular people, the kuzuryus are just businesspeople on the outside as a disguise pretty much. though one thing hajime does know is that those kids are definitely subjected to abuse at home, but hes not sure what to do about it

id say after like, a year of bonding, one day, natsumi tragically dies. (doomed in every universe sorry girl). not by sato tho! but due to an assassination involving clan shit, though it was just described as a murder. ever since then, fuyuhiko shut down and cut everyone else out his life pretty much. despite how close him and hajime were, they never talked again after that, though he tried to reach out, he wasnt getting anything. not long after, fuyuhiko got a new number, dropped out of HPA, and became buried in yakuza work.

hajime was heartbroken losing two of his best friends, and because of it, he fell into a deep depression the following year. failed his studies before inevitably dropping out of HPA, all while also falling into random aggressive encounters with goons on the streets. (to hajimes confusion, it turned out they were just kuzuryu-rookie assholes investigating hajime, thinking he had something to do with everything going on, without making that obvious to him. fuyuhiko didnt know about all that.) haj got a job too, but it wasnt really enough + he was late most days/had a poor work performance sometimes, just because of alot of shit going on. failing in life and getting into fights, these things are enough for hajimes parents to kick him out rather than offer him help. now he was out on his own, with barely enough money to comfortably pay for food and a room to stay. his friends– chiaki the most– did offer for him to stay at their place, but he declined because he felt like a major inconvenience, that “this is his problem, he has to fix it.”

several months pass as he manages throughout life. one night while hajime was in the city, making his way to a shop, he was threatened by gangsters. fearful at knifepoint, a group of three came to rescue hajime once 'stumbling' upon the scene, fighting and scaring them off. the group introduces themself as ren, jiro and sora, comforting hajime and conversing w/ him, and a small connection was formed. they push some information out of him seemingly out of concern, and once they find out how much hes struggling, they offer to help. from that point on, they frequently visit hajime to make sure hes okay, taking him out to cities to have fun, and a bond forms. hajime was pretty content with it, and felt cared for, because for the first time in a long while, he had made a new friend, and these people almost reminded him of fuyuhiko. tough and standoffish, but generous and caring. with how much he missed him and how vulnerable he was, he grew to like them

however as they grew closer and ran little errands together, slipping into his personal life, they slowly tried to coarse hajime getting into fights & gangs. they see a potential in him, a potential HPA didn't see, and they were willing to give him a chance, though hajime is Not into that at all, hes threatened as they expose themselves as high ranked members of the Raijin clan. theyre at large, and rivals of the kuzuryu clan, and are essentially just like "hey we did all this for you, you owe us a favor" to manipulate him, plus being like "you know those fuckers who keep harassing with you? theyre part of the kuzuryu clan. they SUCK. lets take them down." so they "invite" hajime to join the Raijin's. of course, he denies it in terror, but they aren't happy with this answer. after all they've done for him, it's unfair in their eyes, so they insist, about to abandon hajime which would end up in him failing on the streets again, risking losing a warm roof and well cooked food. scared, freezing up, and without having much of a life going for him or parents to care for him, plus literally being threatened and harassed, hajime is forced into complying, essentially kidnapped by the Raijin clan

after being recruited, it isnt long until he finds out how violent they all are, and just How Much He Fucked Up. off the bat he despises it, hates himself for making such poor choices, but hajime found himself at a loss. he has no idea how the yakuza operates, so still, he found no way out of the mess he was in now. during his time there, he tries to stay out of things as much as possible, but it’s hard to do much else once they forcefully cut all his communication with his other friends, to become one of them and slowly brainwash him into becoming a killing machine. he was completely hopeless, going through training he didn’t want to go through, but he grit his teeth through it and was thankfully cut some slack.

however, the more he had to try, the more it was working, and it’s not long until hajime is dragged through fights, missions and jobs. months into progress, the Raijin clan eventually planned an attack on a club the kuzuryu clan operates in the city, and once it was the right time to pounce, they dragged hajime into it, not giving him a choice but a chance. and that is finally when he comes across a familiar face. in a whole gunfight, hajime stammers and stumbles around in a panicked frenzy, but by the time they have to leave, he’s cornered and caught by the boss. and the moment they meet eyes they’re just like. Oh Fuck

there, after one painful year and several months of pain and worry, hajime finally meets fuyuhiko again, yet no words are spoken, they just kinda Stare. frozen in shock. hajime’s eyes are filled with confusion, concern, but desperation, while in fuyuhiko it's similar, but it evolves into anger. bitterness, betrayal. though before they can say a singular word, ren finds hajime again, shoots at fuyuhiko to shoo him off, and saves him once more, dragging him into the car before they retreat to their base

afterwards, they give him some more information, confirming that it was fuyuhiko kuzuryu, notorious heir of their rivalry clan. but hajime didn’t tell a single soul that he recognized the boss. if he had told them about their past friendship, they would squeeze information out of him, wring him dry and put him in even more danger, put fuyuhiko in danger, and something in him just didn’t want that. he needed to think through it, even though he’s barely processed this information, he still doesn’t know how to feel, even if he’s witnessed how horrible the Raijin’s can be as an example of yakuza clans, hajime saw fuyuhiko as a sign of hope. maybe he could help. he remembers how kind he was, so surely, he must still have it in him

as for fuyuhiko, he has no idea. he truly doesn’t want to believe it was hajime, that it was just some lookalike, but he's not an idiot, he Knows it was him, but he's frozen with disbelief. he couldn’t understand how someone as sweet and as normal as hajime could’ve ended up in a clan, in the Raijin clan, no less. but something in him stirs– a spark of blind hatred and betrayal.

ever since that night, that moment on the floor haunted their minds permanently, while fights between the two clans still commenced, fuyuhiko and hajime decided they were now on the hunt for the other, they needed an answer and they wanted it fast. after that, hajime tagged along most missions, where throughout the months they had gotten close but not enough. though the few times they ran into each other was during fights/jobs, when hajime needed the privacy to talk to him. he tried to come off as friendly, but the more they saw eachother and the more fuyuhiko saw him siding with the enemy, it only gave him the impression that hajime was out for his blood. hence why a rivalry formed on his behalf. seeing ren save him each time only angered him further, and it made fuyuhiko even More desperate for an answer. but hajime didn’t give up, despite the fights, the accusations, the hatred he’s faced from fuyuhiko, he has to prove himself as an ally, and he made that his mission ever since they saw eachother at that club

anyway finally one day, the clan sens hajime alone on a mission to spy on fuyuhiko so they could find out about what the clan is up to, to which hajime gladly went and tracked him down, doing what was told. but once he found him, he exposed himself calmly, and they took time to speak. and by “speaking to each other”, that means hajime startling fuyuhiko in an alley before being slammed against a wall, met with hostility, suspicion and anger LOL. fuyuhiko had never harmed him severely, but he wouldn't hesitate if hajime posed a major threat. but instead, hajime clings to him, cowering, pleading and begging for mercy because he’s his only choice. because he trusts– or he hopes, that there’s still a kind heart in fuyuhiko, despite what he’s learned now, he just can’t see him to be a vile person. the two never separated on bad terms, they were both just mourning, and now he sees why fuyuhiko went so quiet with his clan and all.

hajime’s desperate cries calms fuyuhiko down a little. he’s taken aback by his pleas, unsure if he should spare him, if he should take him back to base, but again in his mind, they were best friends back then. someone he truly never wanted to leave, but life just got in the way. fuyuhiko doesn’t like to get sentimental, nor should relationships mean anything to him, but he can’t help but sympathize. of course, he was still skeptical at first and assumed he was faking it just to raid their own clan if he is to take him, but hajime was dead serious, and proved it by offering to expose information of the clan, ratting himself out that he was on a mission to stalk him. because of his words, slowly but surely, he gained fuyuhiko’s trust

there was silence after that day, but knowing that they made a connection and agreed to work together, the more and more hajime tagged along on missions and played along with it as did fuyuhiko. the two eventually formed a secret friendship, coming up with a plan to bust hajime out of the Raijin clan, though still fighting and acting like enemies when they interacted in front of clans. (so they beat eachother up lovingly.) they established secret meetup spots, along with a secret backup phone fuyuhiko gave hajime with his number on it, along with providing tips and advice. he told hajime more about his life in order to cooperate as they work together to sabotage the clan more, & though he never wanted to get hajime involved in the kind of life he lives, he’s willing to sacrifice his privacy if it means getting hajime to safety

hajime finds himself sneaking out with fuyuhiko often, handing over information but also growing close to him at the same time, earning the kuzuryu clan's trust as well, but more importantly, becoming best friends with him a second time yippieee

not sure how i end this au tbh. dont know if fuyuhiko wants to leave the clan because of haj or if hajime wants in on the kuzuryu clan to stay with fuyuhiko and become his underling (because hey maybe it isnt so bad afterall...) ... I actually Do Not Know. they dont even know what they want for themselves lmao so who cares. they become close and eventually fall for eachother in their own dumb fucked up way. the end.

ok thanks for reading take a bonus to appreciate you for your time. did you know left 4 dead 2 is a wonderful place

[seokminfilm]

seventeen as my memorable school experiences

♫ pairing, seventeen x reader ♫ warnings, fluff, unserious/crack, non-idol au, very short, headcanons, debut/high school age seventeen, cliches, cursing, kind of dramatic, my personal stories

♫ author's note, hi everyone 😞 school and deadlines have been driving me insane so i'll be semi-active until further notice 🧍 ANYWAYS wanted something fun (slightly unserious) and quick, so i thought of this idea! these are all in good fun so don't worry 🤍 without further ado enjoy these headcanons (and tell me if you like them/want more of this format!)

seungcheol would definitely be the type of guy to hold the littlest things over you 😭 definitely one to pull the "I'm older than you" or "I'm stronger than you" card in literally every situation 🧍 you know the kid that was like "i'm so fast i can run here and back in three seconds"? seungcheol would be the one doing that, and trip over something and face-plant 💀 i would not take him seriously let me tell you that

jeonghan teacher's pet 100 percent LMAO definitely the type of person to tell on someone when they're not doing something they "should" be doing. has to be the teacher's helper, passing out papers and running errands for them. jeonghan would be the sly one that is actually one of the most unruly ass students but gets away because he sucks up to the teacher 😭

joshua he'd be the popular transfer student that everyone would be focused on for like a week. he's the talk of the school okay 😭 has that generic 2010 gelled/swooped to the side hair with a button-up for sureee joshua is the kid who's really polite and sweet and has the teacher singing his praises, but when he gets around the right people, he cannot be stopped

jun jun's the really quiet one you forget even exists sometimes 😭 your teacher is taking attendance and says "who are we missing" and you say someone jun, while everyone else is yelling another person 🧍like no jun's sitting right behind you, he's just really quiet. (part two of getting around the right people and being loud)

hoshi hoshi is that one kid that cannot be embarrassed by himself. he will do the most cringy things known to mankind, and still be able to walk away normally after it 💀 does not care about what he likes (definitely an anime kid i feel it in my soul), and makes references that no one gets. people are scared to have to be his class partner let me tell you 🧍

wonwoo not be overused or anything but i seriously do see wonwoo as a gamer boy 💀 my childhood best friend (who goes to school w me & is in my class) is an absolute dork when it comes to video games. wonwoo would be the person to bring a sketchbook skilled fo video game characters 🧍 would also be the person to listen to video game osts while doing homework/assignments

woozi part two of "the really quiet kid you forget even exists sometimes" LMAO woozi is definitely to be the one in the back of the classroom minding his business, doing his work, or sleeping. woozi can be funny, but just doesn't feel like trying 🤷 has great timing with the things he says and makes the whole class laugh

the8 did (or do) you know that one kid that would correct your grammar or pronounciation without your consent? the8 would SO be that kid omg 😭 lord forbid you stutter around him cause he'll go straight to mocking you for it. the8 would be such a stickler w that i fear (i can just imagine you having him read something you've written and there he is correcting your run-on sentences 💀)

mingyu there's this one kid i see walking around in the hallways of my school with a mop of curly hair shielding his eyes 🧍 that just screams mingyu to me LMAO idk he tries so hard to be cool and hip but it just doesn't work 😭 considered one of the more popular people of the class, even if it's just because he's "mysterious".

dk he's definitely the type of person to make you come undone with an "are you okay?" or bunches of compliments CHANGE MY MIND i have a friend who's so good at coaxing feelings & tears out of me w a simple "hey, are you okay?", and i feel like dk would be the same way 😭 gives you a hug every day when you're leaving, and texts you on school holidays/breaks because he "misses human interaction" ("i miss you so bad ☹" "seokmin it's been 2 hours since i last saw you")

seungkwan theatre kid or choir kid 🤷 also probably has his mom working as a teacher so has those privileges to where he can visit his mom's class and participate in a bunch of things since his mom is already at the school 🧍probably also a generic popular girl too LMAO hears things from other people and spreads it professionally (probably to the8: if you see them two conversing and looking at you, 9/10 you're being secretly roasted)

vernon debut vernon to me screams "random boy every girl in your grade liked with a windshield wiper laugh and thick, brown wavy hair" 🤷 had this one boy in 3rd grade that EVERY SINGULAR GIRL THOUGHT WAS CUTE. also probably says cringe things (ex: dude, bro, fire, lit, sike, etc) unironically because he has an image to uphold or something. please don't make him laugh really hard (you'll hear this squeaky grating sound that makes you want to stuff your head in your backpack)

dino dino is the popular boy by association 😭 he's not really popular on his own, but when with vernon/mingyu suddenly multiplies in popularity. he's actually a really chill, down-to-earth dude LMAO lord forbid he makes a terrible joke though 💀 he'll be so embarrassed he'll shut down and never come back. would friends with vernon and probably practices the windshield wiper laugh in his bathroom at home 🧍

a/n: lowkey very cliche and personal but still fun/comforting to write (speaking with experiencing most of these things firsthand LMAOAOOA!! tell me what you think about it LMAO

[2amriize]

.ᐟ seunghan drabble : my dream ༉‧₊˚.

req: omg idk if reqs are open but I'm gonna send this anyway HEAR ME OUT a written fix with reader being seunghans close friend or something and a very cute fluffy hurt/comfort idol au where seunghan returns to riize (I'm delusional plz)

note: pls seunghan comeback. i miss rii7e

masterlist

You and Seunghan had known each other since high school, where you became very close. Both of you shared the dream of becoming idols someday, as you both loved dancing. For years, you attended dance academies until you each managed to join agencies, training hard for years. You debuted in a group a few months before him, but eventually, you both achieved the dream you had been chasing for so long.

You couldn’t be prouder of each other. It was also so much fun running into each other in the hallways during promotions and recording challenges together. But this happiness quickly faded when Seunghan was put on hiatus, and eventually, his image was erased from the group entirely.

You couldn’t understand it. Why were they doing this to him? Seunghan, who was kind and friendly to everyone. Who always had a smile on his face no matter the situation. You couldn’t stop thinking about everything he was going through, and even though you were busy with your group’s rehearsals and promotions, you always found time to visit Seunghan at his apartment, checking in on him and talking to distract him a bit.

The day you read the news that Seunghan had decided to leave the group, you ran to his apartment after practice, knocking on his door to talk to him. A few seconds later, he opened the door. You both sat on his couch, him with his head down, fully aware of what you were going to say.

"Is this really what you want, Seunghan? Is this what you want? Wasn’t this your dream?"

"I don’t want to keep hurting them..."

"You’re not hurting them, Seunghan. They’re your friends—you’ve told me that yourself. These past months you’ve worked so hard for them, and they’ve been there for you."

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices..."

"No, Seunghan, sometimes you have to be selfish. This is your dream. It’s been your dream for years, I’ve been by your side and seen how excited you always were... Why would you throw that away? You know there are so many people who support you, you know that..."

Seunghan listened in silence. He knew your words were true, but the situation was too complicated. Even though it had been his decision, he wasn’t sure if he had made the right one. It was true that this was his dream, but deep down, he was afraid of impacting his group, even though he knew they would support and protect him.

That night, you decided to stay with Seunghan because he needed you by his side. He had always been there for you during your worst moments, and you wouldn’t do any less for him. You tried to change the subject and distract him with other things, like watching videos together. From that day on, Seunghan promised you that he would think about what to do.

The following months were very tough for him, and for you too. Even though he seemed to be doing better with each passing day, you knew deep down that it was still affecting him and that he was still contemplating speaking up, sharing his feelings, and saying that he wanted to return to the group.

You couldn’t have been happier when one morning, one of your groupmates showed you the news: Seunghan was back in RIIZE.

Seunghan had decided to follow his dream, no matter what people said. He wanted to continue being an artist with RIIZE, and that decision was something incredibly important—something that made you so proud.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi @kukkurookkoo

[sinsoji]

Keeping Record

Medical AU - Higuruma x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive material! I genuinely cannot think of another tag so I apologize if my air headed-ness missed something major… (-｡-;

& what I have to say is… “Are you writing a fic about that man with that whole beak-” YEAH AND? THAT BEAK PRETTY! If he’s a bird, I’m a bird!? RAH-AH RAH-AH

You have reached the voicemail box of Hiromi Higuruma. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Beep

You hung up the call and stared at your screen. Legal firms of any kind were a pain to deal with, but this one was pushing all the right buttons.

You have reached-

“Okay...” Disappointed? Sure, you were. But never surprised. “No this is great, I’m sure they don’t even want these records.”

A medical assistant slid behind, looking at the medical record request alongside you, scanning it for a date of birth and the dates of service.

“I’m not blind, am I?” The copies were at your nose. Then you examined them at your keyboard, holding it as far down as you could to get another look.

“Hmm. Are they asking if they can release their records to us…?”

“Right?”

They laughed on the way out of your office, visiting your printer to make a colored copy of something. It was small and dim, but you liked to think of it as cozy. Some days it felt more like a closet and even more so now that one of two flat panel light fixtures began to flicker. At this point you were waiting for it to die before asking to have it replaced, because that was the only way they would replace it.

The medical world was fun... sometimes. The workday for medical assistants and nurses heavily depended on the doctors’ attitude, followed by the patient's attitude. But being on the back end of things made it so more people could make or break your shift. Seniority and an excellent work reputation meant you got to train new hires if their leads weren’t in, double check most of the outgoing paperwork, and do all the “fun” insurance things. With that, it wasn’t long before one of the receptionists walked back to grab you.

“Sorry,” they knocked on your open door. “I have someone here asking to speak with medical records?” They were new, and visibly stressed.

“Hey,” you cordially smiled. “You’re good, did they give you a name?”

They made a face and shook their head, “I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask.”

“No, no you’re good.” You reassured them.

When training or speaking to new hires, you did so with empathy. Going to school only meant so much, nothing really prepared you for how differently each clinic ran. You tried so hard to give them the patience and understanding that you never got.

“Just let him know I’ll call them back in second and get their name before you have him sit down.”

They looked relieved with your laxed attitude before running back to the front. After a few minutes you joined them again and were handed a sticky note with a name.

“Higuruma?” You called out to the waiting room.

A dark-haired man, with a slight tan and a brief case stood up. He nodded on his way over. You introduced yourself before leading him back to your office. As you walked pass the nurses station, you nodded, and watched their eyes dart to the man following behind you. It wasn’t often that anyone followed you back anywhere. If it wasn’t a nurse or doctor at your door, it was a patient accompanied by a nurse.

The legal request for records was neatly placed beside your keyboard. You pulled up a chair beside yours, and motioned him to sit.

Higuruma looked as serious as you pictured most lawyers did. It was like playing bingo when you looked at him. Black suit and tie? Check. Briefcase? Check. Polished and shiny dress shoes? Check. The tired look in his eyes and slick back hairdo, which was escaping whatever gel product he used, was like the free space in the middle of the card.

“How can I help you today, Mr. Higuruma?”

“I was asked to visit your clinic to inquire about the subpoena.” Polite and straight to the point, you thought.

“Yes, I apologize in advance, but I have been trying to get ahold of your firm. Can I confirm some contact information with you?”

With the call history on your computer, and the request beside it, Higuruma could immediately see why you were trying to contact them, and just how often you tried to. He apologized for the discrepancy and asked if there was anything else you needed.

“Ah, yeah. So, the doctor your client saw, they’re not comfortable signing anything unless they can speak with someone.”

Higuruma smiled with his brows raised. “I can speak with the doctor today if they have the time.”

You made a face that let him know they weren’t in clinic. “Can we schedule a time they can call? Well, actually it might be best if you come back.”

When it came to legal things or insurances, you mentally prepared for attitude when you couldn’t immediately give the representative what they wanted.

“That’s fine. When will they back in?”

What a relief.

Higuruma offered to provide lunch and set the date for that following Thursday an hour before noon.

“Oh, and before I go,” He paused to unlock his phone “I’m going to give you my personal number. I don’t want to ignorantly disregard your clinic’s needs. But I’m going to ask that my number does not go to anyone else, and that it only stays with you.”

With a nod, you exchanged phones and contact information.

“Hiromi Higuruma,” you read aloud to yourself upon the trade back.

He smiled again as you looked up.

“Oh, sorry.” You cut out his first name on his contact, reading aloud “Mr. Higu-ru-ma…” in a softer voice.

“Hiromi is fine,” the lawyer tone dropped. “The whole ‘Mister’ thing makes me feel old.” He chuckled.

“Oh- okay, Hiromi.” You smiled, scanning him again before offering to guide him out.

With the door leading to the waiting room propped open, he promised to speak with whoever faxed the original form and to bring a new, corrected one on Thursday. When the automatic sliding entry doors closed, the second desk girl looked to you before giggling.

“What?”

“Do you think he’s cute?”

You looked up thoughtfully and then shrugged.

“He looked a lot happier then when he came in.” she sang sweetly.

The newbie that originally grabbed you spoke up. “Yeah. He was smiling just now, and I was kinda worried about how he was gonna treat you back there.”

“And you gave me no warning?” You teased.

The two sheepishly smiled before someone approached their desk. You took it as your sign to leave and return to your desk.

—

The morning before the meeting, Higurumi texted asking what he’ll be picking up for lunch.

You – “Sandwiches are safe.”

Himori – “Allergies?”

You – “Peanuts for the doctor in question.”

Hiromi – “Noted. Anything they or you prefer?”

You really thought about the doctor, and then your manager who would be present, and shook your head.

You – “I’m not even going to guess. I’ll send you their orders in a second.”

Twenty minutes later he received their orders and reconfirmed the dates. You wondered if he was wearing the same black suit, or if his hair was getting loose again.

—

The lunch was embarrassing. Higuruma kept having to repeat himself to the doctor, who in turn kept interrupting him before he could finish saying anything, and your manager didn’t do anything to help. They were just blankly staring and smiling, alternating the combo between the doctor, the lawyer, and yourself. Right before you could thank Higuruma on behalf of the small four-person luncheon, both your team mates had something to say.

“You know as much as I appreciate Mr. Higuruma being here today, I just have no idea why I’m here. Why you didn’t have Legal come in?” Your manager stared at you, and then at Higuruma. “And the request is a few weeks old, which I apologize for, but I mean what have you been doing back there?”

You froze without any idea why this couldn’t wait until the lawyer left. “Well, when I asked Legal, they said this was something you could look over and-”

“When?”

You blinked slowly. “When I set the date with Mr. Higuruma.”

“I mean it’s a silly record request.” The doctor chimed in. “It seems to me if you just read the forms, and worded things better, maybe I would’ve understood and been more than happy to sign sooner.”

All you could do was stare, as they blamed their stupidity on you.

Higuruma seemed taken aback and annoyed. What was worse was you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or them. But the ordeal wouldn’t end if you tried to fight them on this, so you surrendered like most people do and apologized to the room. “I don’t mean to waste yours, or my own teams time.” You bowed to Higuruma from across the table, ignoring the theatrically loud sigh that just left your manager.

When you looked up, Higuruma seemed confused as he bowed back. “No, the mistake started on my end. Really this whole ordeal is on my firm.” He stood up now to shake your manager’s and doctor's hand. “I apologize for inadvertently dragging this simple request out for your clinic, staff and my own client.” He bowed again.

“This isn’t on you pal,” the doctor patted his shoulder as he left the break room.

You felt too sick to finish your food and got up to put whatever you couldn’t stomach in the fridge. “Oh, and uh,” your manager peeped their head back into the breakroom. “Make sure the man gets his records before he leaves, m’kay?” You nodded with the most professionally pissed off smile before grabbing a water bottle and leading Higuruma back to your office.

The clacking of keys seemed louder than normal, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything until you hit print. “There are quite a few pages, so it might be a while. I can bring it to your office since your firm is fairly close.”

“Today?”

“Yes...”

“On your own? Are they going to make you drive yourself?”

“Yeah?” You didn’t know where he was going with this.

“They reimburse for gas, right?”

You looked at the clock, it was 12:30, but you knew your manager was going to find a way to make sure you don’t get paid for what they believe is your screw up. They might even try to say you got a long lunch so it was only fair.

“They should.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

Higuruma thought about it, then got comfortable beside you with his briefcase on the table and his legs widely crossed. “I’m okay to wait.” He pulled out a laptop. “If that’s okay with you.”

You nodded before going back to your computer.

Page 045/462 is printing…

Higuruma kept his distance but you could see his forearms from the corner of your eye.

When did he take off his suit jacket?

Then your gaze fell to his lap, another pair of black suit pants, but you could see the feint lines that made them corduroy.

“You’re only ten minutes from our clinic. Are you sure?”

Higuruma nodded with his chin on his fist. He hadn’t looked at you but you were now tracing his profile with your gaze. He still looked tired and laxed. Something about his demeanor and suit was doing messing to your line of thought. You tilted your head and thought to make small talk while you had him. Then you stopped after remembering he looked tired, and might only want to respond to yes or no questions.

Page 176/462 is printing…

The printer was warming the cramped space and your cardigan had to come off. After placing it on your chair you made it to the window. “May I?” You looked over your shoulder. He nodded again but did not turn away when you had to open the window. The way you stood on your tippy toes, without the cardigan, made it so your scrub top hugged your waist with a little drama. He consciously turned away before you caught him.

Page 176/462 is printing…

At your desk, you recalled that he hadn’t ate while you four talked, so you opened a drawer and grabbed out one of those too-sweet-to-be-healthy granola bars. “Sorry, this is all I got.”

The bar slid over to him and Higuruma thanked you before immediately tearing into it. His apparent hunger made you feel guilty for not trying to harder convince him to leave. “I can grab you some lunch, you know, for keeping you here.”

He laughed before turning to face you. “Everything was on me, so don’t worry about it. Besides, I think there are a couple more things I can apologize for. You know, after that.”

“Pardon?”

“Doctors and higher ups in medical can get a little jaded, so I’ve noticed.” He folded his arms and you were immediately staring at them.

“They mean well.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of it.

“Oh, I’m sure they do.” He shook his head. “I’m sure that’s why I have to defend them most the time.”

You smiled at his understanding. You felt less embarrassed about luncheon and lifted your brows. “My offer on lunch still stands.”

He looked up at the ceiling and noticed the flickering light. “That’s nice, but all I’d want from you is to join me. I’d like to pay.” He grinned.

“Can you just do that?” You thought he meant with a company card.

“With my card and on my lunch, yeah I can.”

“Oh, you don’t have to make time in between work for me.”

“Well…” he uncrossed his legs and leaned in. “I guess lunch can be kinda hard for me, so how about we do dinner instead?” It wasn’t clear when he started flirting but that made your stomach drop.

Page 387/462 is printing…

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Not while I’m on business. But can I properly ask when I’m off the clock.” He cheekily smiled.

Your print job is completed

You handed Higuruma a fresh stack of warm paper, and again walked him out. “I’ll message you around 6,” he said too close to front desk.

You didn’t notice those two were grinning past your own anxious excitement.

—

The following Thursday rolled around, and just as you were headed to the bathroom to get changed, a doctor dropped a stack of papers on your desk.

“What’s this?”

“Prior authorizations. I need these done before Friday morning.”

“This Friday or next?”

“This Friday. Please.”

“Where did your assistant go?” You leaned back looking past the doctor and out your door. No one at the nurse's station.

“It’s just you, but even then, he’s been looking forward to some date he’s got tonight, so...”

Nice. Super nice.

“Got it.” You said flatly, unwilling to hide the tinge of annoyance in your tone.

You called Higuruma to cancel. He insisted on bringing something over and lied about making a big reservation after you offered to cover any fees for it.

“Just name your favorite spot, or better yet I can wait for you to finish.”

“Higuruma this is going to take a second, you don’t have to do that.” The stack of papers looked daunting, but after flipping through it was just three procedures with a lot of notes to fax.

“I want to.” He hummed

“Well, I can open the door for you if you come through the back.”

“Can you do that for me?”

“Strangely enough, yes I can.”

“Okay,” He sighed with relief. “I’ll see you in 20.”

As soon as he hung up you locked your office door to get changed. It felt a little silly but if you were going to have a date in your office, you were going to be dressed up for it.

Five minutes passed and it felt like an hour. The hold music was nothing short of goofy, and you were looking forward to seeing him. You wondered what he was wearing, if he was going to be in a suit or if suits felt like a work uniform to him and would dress down when getting dressed up. Then you wondered what dressing down meant, if it was another button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, grey slacks or if he would wear a more relaxed pleated pair of pants. What kind of belt would he wear? Would his shirt button be undone? If so, how many?

An insurance agent cut through your train of thought, and the first prior auth was complete. You checked your phone and saw that Higuruma was on his way but that text was sent twenty minutes ago and now you were feeling nervous. In the middle of being on hold for the second company, Higuruma called saying that he was there.

You ran back, opened the door, walked him back, and forgot the hold music was on speaker.

“Interesting song choice.” He teased.

“I- no wait.” You took the phone off speaker and nervously chuckled before the second agent answered. With one more left you dialed the last insurance line and began to press all the options. While on hold you pushed out your hand with a pinky extended. “You’ve gotta promise me something.” You felt self-conscious of the blatant disregard to health privacy laws switch your date in the room.

“Pinky promises?” He raised a brow.

“You have to promise to pretend this is work related if anyone from the clinic calls to ask why you were here, and that you don’t repeat anything I say to the agent.”

Higuruma snorted and nodded. He kissed his thumb, extended his pinky, and locked it with yours. “Seal it with a kiss.” he toyed. Although it felt silly, you did as he said and it filled your stomach with butterflies.

This last Insurance company was taking their sweet time answering. You put the hold music back on speaker and reached out for your plate of food. You slid closer to him, thanking him for dinner before the first bite.

“So,” You immediately caught his attention. “Is our pinky promise legally binding then?”

“Well, it’s technically me giving you my word, so yes.” Smiling at his fork he said “It is for me.”

His sleeves were rolled up again, but he was wearing a form fitted black mock neck, with a pair of olive-green pleated pants. As he ate, you eyed his wrist watch, and thought it had to be white gold. But even more eye catching than his watch were subtle but protruding veins that lined from his wrist to his pushed sleeve. Higuruma noticed your gaze.

“You like what you see?” He murmured.

“Do I like what-? Oh!” The music stopped and you quickly grabbed the phone to finish the last prior auth.

Higuruma took this opportunity to get an eyeful of his date. You were wearing a black satin dress that had been showing off your legs since you sat down. Before you took the call, when you had faced each other, Higuruma’s attention had been caught by the cowl neck of the dress but he only allowed himself to look for a second. You just looked too tempting to just be taking a call. To be in an office alone with him. As you were finishing up, Higuruma snuck up behind you, with his hand landed on yours as your cursor hovering over the end call button.

“No that’s all. You too. No, no thank you.” Before the agent could wish you a good night, Higuruma hung up the call. You turned around in your chair stunned that he was also towered over you. “What if I wasn’t finished?”

“Were you not?”

“Mr. Higuruma, are all lawyers as cocky as you are? Or as flirty?” If you could call what you were feeling butterflies, there were a roost and they were moving up your chest. Your eyes moved from his down to the arms that trapped you in. As you stood up, he moved back. “Hiromi?”

He folded his arms again and leaned against a shelf behind him. “Not that I know of.” Higuruma hid his mouth behind his palm, closed his eyes and sighed. “I apologize, but-” A dress shouldn’t be able to do that much, he thought. No, it was a scrub top, or maybe it was just you? “I promise I’m usually more composed.”

If it wasn’t for you playing with the slit on the thigh of your dress, he would’ve never noticed that little detail. “You are?”

Higuruma dropped his arms and approached you. “May I?”

You nodded.

As he began to slowly and softly entangled you in a kiss you kept pulling back, forcing him to follow you against the edge of your desk. You kept leaning back, sensing him trapping you between his arms as he leaned on the table.

“Sweetheart,” hot breath tickled your lower lip. “Let me close, please?” His dilated eyes pleaded alongside his voice. But his hands seemed to be a little less polite as they grabbed you by your hips, lifting you onto your desk while holding you still. When he felt like you were trying to move back again his hand quickly switched positions.

Composed was a funny thing to be with one hand on your bare thigh, the other keeping you still while he licked your bottom lip.

Higuruma’a neck guided every kiss and if his hair had been intact when he came in, it for certain was not now. The smooth pomade coated your fingers as you combed through. Occasionally you would tug forward, pushing him back in an attempt to catch your breath. The lack of air in his all-consuming kiss made you dizzy, and overly aware of your heart racing, pounding in your head as his tongue tasted yours.

The crease in between your thigh and hip felt the dull office air as Higuruma’s hand ran further up completely exposing your leg. That same hand trailed down your thigh to push you open at the knee, while his other hand snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him. After you wrapped your legs around his waist, you finally pulled away from his kiss to dive into his neck. You kissed up to his cheek, quickly pecked him, and then dipped back down to suck the skin near his collar bone. The pressure made him groan.

“Hiromi,” you sang against his neck.

Higuruma looked too dazed to realize he had lifted you off the table in the heat of the moment and was holding you in his arms. “Where’s your composure Hiromi?”

Visible warmth spread across his face as he came back from reality. Higuruma let you down. But he let his hand slide up your side and back down your arm to hold your hand. He kissed your knuckle and laughed. “And yours?”

At some point one of the panel lights went out within his indulgence, and you had not clocked out, so you quickly clicked around, logged out, and grabbed your bag.

“Let me take you home.” Higurumi was fixing his hair and lifting his collar. He also shamelessly watched as you fixed your dress, grinning.

© 2024 chimimon

[styx142]

Okay so like, I've been thinking about an Adventure Time teacher AU and why does it work weirdly well???

Here's the current staff list

Finn: Gym coach who's currently also working as a math teacher due to a shortage of staff and the previous one (Billy maybe?) quitting. He's absolute shit at math but he's super excited about it all the time so the students love him anyway.

Jake: At first I was thinking gym coach too, but I feel like he'd be a great counselor honestly. He's constantly advising his brother and I think he'd work well

BMO: The computer teacher! Kinda obvious but yeah

Neptr: Robotics/engineering teacher. Due to the nature of their jobs, BMO and Neptr work pretty closely together. Neptr loves this, BMO not as much.

Princess Bubblegum: The science teacher who is kind of running the place at times, because the principal won't do anything so she's decided to do what she can to keep this place running smoothly.

Marceline: The band director. She is 100% playing pranks on her students all the time. Also whenever the band is practicing she is standing on her band tower with a little umbrella or something for sun protection.

LSP: Drama teacher. Kinda obvious, she's already directed a play in the show so she works well as a drama teacher.

Simon/Ice King: History teacher! I got the idea from my AP world history teacher whose classroom is packed full of artifacts and replicas from different cultures throughout the world. Figured it'd be fitting for Simon

Flame Princess: English teacher. My whole thought proccess was "freestyle rap. Creative. Poetry. English?" and I think it works well. Her dad was the previous English teacher who left to open a chipmunk sanctuary.

Lady Rainicorn: I was thinking either art or Korean, leaning more towards Korean simply because I have another idea for the art teacher.

Jermaine: Art teacher!

Lemongrab: Psychology. This man has such a weird brain that I think it'd be fun to have him teach this. I can imagine him writing office referrals that just say "UNACCEPTABLE" on them

Fern: The new math teacher who shows up halfway through the year and has to deal with all the students complaining about missing Mr. Mertens.

Betty: Another character who shows up sometime later during the year. She'll be our principal, taking over for the previous principal who quit mysteriously.

Prismo: Vice principal, kinda bad at it and doesn't know how he got the job

Scarab: an admin who was hoping for vice principal and was really pissed when Prismo got the job instead of him

Golb: The principal

The lich: Previous vice principal who was fired for unknown reasons. Fired at the same time Billy quit.

Peppermint butler: I can't decide whether I want him as a student or as a secretary or just as someone who works in the office

I think I'll have all the candy citizens as students, as well as probably some minor characters who get a few appearances or only one episode.

This is partially why I originally wanted PB as the principal, but I found it funnier to have her as the teacher who is going insane because Golb will not do shit for the school.

I'm considering turning this whole thing into a fic, possibly focusing on PB? Possibly a bubbline fic? Not sure quite yet, this AU is still very much in development

[st4rry4543]

Meh, nothing serious, just concept pianosaurus doodles

I actually like his design, so it'll probably be close to close to his final.

Info on pianosaurus, doey, and Yarnaby in this au:

Pianosaurus:

Mr. Pianosaurus here is kind of cocky not in a mean way! just playfully joking no harm done.

Our musical man here loves to mess with Mr.doughman a lot. What we mean by that is like poking him in random places whenever he's doing something important. this punk, will sit down or look at the mirror at random times and say to himself, "I miss my band." And get all sad about it and start playing depressing music! Chill with those bad vibes dude your turning my milk for sour!

whenever he's idle, he'll stand and check/ pick his nails or have his hand on his hip.

• He suffers from a tragic disease called "pathetic loser"💔💔💔💔

• MUSIC, he loves music he's a musical man,it's kinda his thing! He plays a keyboard during his free time.

• he doesn't like kids much. He doesn't hate them. He just finds them gross and sticky.

Doey:

• Well! To be clear, doey's main job isn't Babysitting it's a small thing he does every now and then. His main thing is teaching a pottery class.

• #1 pianosaurus victim. Before the whole "you know what I actually really kinda love you now" thingy he really REALLY, REALLY hated pianosaurus. He still does in a way he just finds him annoying.

• He spaces out often mostly during conversations, so if someone is giving him instructions, there's a 69% chance he isn't listening

• He finds children precious that's what makes him such a great neighbor

• he's optimistic, not dumb but optimistic!(keep this in-mind!)

•" He is an ABSOLUTE DORK, DORK I TELL YOU DORKKKKKK. from the way he dresses to the way he laughs and / or giggles, just a good for nothing DORK!"As pianosaurus would say.☺️

• He usually braids or twists Yarnaby's hair while listening to him ramble about animals and rant about how unfair it is that playtime city's zoo only lets him work 6 hours a day! Can you believe that?

Yarnaby:

A fellow of nature indeed! He has a very special connection with animals. He also thinks their awesome sauce.

• he sometimes wishes he was a lion freely roaming through the forest along with the others, not a care in the world!( crazy canonical foreshadowing)

Fun fact in a small comic/ fanfic I'm doing, we get to see a small part from Yarnaby's past in this au, which is a direct reference to wildernessa's rant from Craig of the creek.

This to be specific:

"Animals, don't pretend to be nice and ask you to sit with them at lunch so you can share hamster care tips just so they can pull your chair from under you and watch you spill food all over yourself and then you get called into the principles office( I am not finishing that sentence)"

• he's not a very good communicator and has a hard time talking people( he just like me frfr)

• the only negative thing about him is that he hinges his extince on his partners or his dad( the doctor). This is based on his carboard cutout)

• do any of you remember how in tangled(the series) mother gothel left her actual child for rapunzel( we'll her hair/ power I guess) it's pretty much like that for Yarnaby and the doctor. I'm not sure what the doctor's motive behind leaving Yarnaby is yet. Most likely leaving to be with Mr. Prototype because of his power.

• listens to pianosaurus rant about how he should have his own tv show( he should NOT, by the way, it'd be a very bad idea!!!)

• Yarnaby also doesn't handle being alone very well

OKAY, THAT'S IT BYEEEE I LOVE U GUYS☆

[forthegothicheroine]

@batmanisagatewaydrug set up a fun Book Bingo for 2025, and want to try and do it!

This planned list of books for me to read is extremely subject to change, especially since I always get a lot of books as holiday presents, but here's the plan as of this moment.

Literary Fiction: The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. My mother got me a bunch of Steinbeck for my birthday, since I liked Cannery Row, so let's see if I can do now what I couldn't in high school!

Short Story Collection: The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. Another author I don't know super well but who has written at least some things I like.

A Sequel: Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck. Like I said, my mom got me a bunch of Steinbeck and I like Cannery Row, so I'll try the sequel.

Childhood Favorite: A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. I read and loved three quarters of this as a kid- but I had to stop before what I knew would be the grim finish, where Twain's depression took hold. It's time I see it through.

20th Century Speculative Fiction: Anno Dracula by Kim Newman. I've come around on Newman, so I should finally try his Bad End Dracula AU.

Fantasy: Fool by Christopher Moore. I keep seeing this when I shelve things at the library and thinking 'I should get that out sometime' so let's make it sometime!

Published before 1950: Beowulf, translated by Burton Raffel. I loved the children's book Bea Wolf, and it gave me the urge I needed to find a good translation of the original.

Independent Publisher: Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng. Gothic? Fairies? Dark historical fiction? Amazing cover? Sounds great.

Graphic Novel: Be Very Afraid of Kanako Inuki by Kanako Inuki. Another great cover that's already making me very afraid!

Animal on the Cover: Earthlings by Sayaka Murata. I loved Convenience Store Woman and this has a cute hedgehog on the cover, and that's all I need to know.

Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist. One of the books that's been on my tbr for the longest time, and I loved both film adaptations.

Science Fiction: Finna by Nino Cipri. I'm always down to read about genre-shifting trips through alternate dimensions.

2025 Debut Author: You are Fatally Invited by Ande Pliego. I have a weakness for riffs on And Then There Were None, plus this seems like the kind of book my library will order.

Memoir: The Complete Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. I started this at someone's house and never finished it, so now is the time.

Read and Make a Zine: Archive.org has a bunch of issues of a Twin Peaks fanzine called Wrapped in Plastic, which I'm looking forward to browsing through! I hope it will give me ideas for what to create!

Essay Collection: The Collected Schizophrenias by Esmé Weijun Wang. Not much to say about this except that it sounds really fascinating.

2024 Award Winner: Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. This won the Alex Award (for adult books with good YA crossover appeal) and I've been curious about it since I worked at a bookstore and put in the order.

Nonfiction: The Madman's Library: The Strangest Books, Manuscripts and Other Literary Curiosities from History by Edward Brooke-Hitching. I would indeed like to learn about those books! Because I missed the "learn something new" part, I will read The Feud: the Hatfields & McCoys by Dean King.

Social Justice & Activism: Beyond Survival: Strategies and Stories from the Transformative Justice Movement by Ejeris Dixon and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. This has been recommended to me as a good starting point to learn about transformative and restorative justice, something I would like to understand better.

Romance Novel: Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt. Duke of Desire was great, so I'm eager for some more of that!

Read and Make a Recipe: I'm hoping to find something good from the Moosewood Cookbook, I need to learn more good vegetarian meals.

Horror: Diavola by Jennifer Marie Thorne. More gothics, and as always, I'm late to a book everyone else always loves!

Published in the Aughts: Great Granny Webster by Caroline Blackwood. Another book I always see on the shelves and always mean to get out next time when I'm not in the middle of something!

Historical Fiction: The Keep by F. Paul Wilson. Historical horror (with Jewish characters) is one of my favorite genres.

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: Poison Widows: A True Story of Witchcraft, Arsenic, and Murder by George Cooper. This was on the library website of recommended Philadelphia-set books, so I'll happily give it a try.

[widowswineapologist]

a/n: random assortment of hcs for the primis boys! slightly suggestive at times so proceed with caution. i left it kind of ambiguous as to whether this was canon au or modern au so have fun imagining whatever :33

primis richtofen:

♡ - he's the type to spend hours initially researching a very vague question he has and then it spirals into him researching something completely unrelated to said question. don't ask him how he got from reading about greek mythology to how bed bugs mate, he doesn't know.

♡ - (also don't ask him how bed bugs mate.)

♡ - for some strange reason, for as long as he could remember, he just gets the most random and inconvenient of nosebleeds. it has happened so often that he's grown to just be mildly annoyed by it at best and he usually has tissues on hand just in case. for him, this is entirely normal, but one time he got a nosebleed while he was talking to you and you freaked out and he had to reassure you he wasn't dying.

♡ - richtofen always wants to be the smartest guy in the room, but he kind of goes feral whenever you correct him. intelligence is already an extremely attractive trait to him, and passion compliments it greatly. the slight humiliation he feels for being wrong is quickly forgotten when he sees that fire in your eyes as you lecture him.

♡ - if you're not able to read or speak german, he is... not exactly going to teach you. what he is going to do, however, is randomly hand you a slip of paper with what seems to be utter gibberish scribbled on it, and he'll simply ask you to say the word with a completely serious expression. and then he is going to cackle like a witch when you say it wrong. he enjoys the little things.

primis dempsey:

♡ - he's really bothered by how much he can't remember about himself, so as a substitute, he tries to remember everything he can about you. it's incredibly sweet and thoughtful sometimes, but occasionally it creeps you out that he can recall some extremely niche and easily forgettable detail you revealed about yourself in passing several months ago.

♡ - throughout his life, he's had a habit of just... randomly falling off his bed in the middle of the night. he has no idea why it happens, he's just grown accustomed to waking up on the floor with his blankets trying their best to keep him tethered to the mattress. it truly is a sight to behold.

♡ - what dempsey lacks in book smarts, he makes up for in street smarts. he knows a bunch of strange life hacks, random bits of information about generally niche topics, weird remedies for certain illnesses, the works. (if any of you have seen breaking bad, he's kinda got jesse vibes in that regard LMAO)

♡ - he doesn't do it anymore, but during the earlier stages of your relationship, he really liked pushing your buttons. once, in the midst of an argument, you slapped him, and after the initial shock wore off, you frantically tried to apologize, only to be met with the marine giving you a lazy smirk. he wore the red handprint on his face like a badge of honor.

♡ - (you've asked him multiple times if he's a masochist or something and he never gives you a straight answer.)

primis nikolai:

♡ - that one guy that just always has random resources on him for virtually no discernable reason. you need batteries? he's already reaching into his pockets. you need a toothpick? it's your lucky day, he's got a pack of them right here. hell, you need matches? he's fishing an entire box out of his bag.

♡ - nikolai has a strange habit of taking in stray animals. he literally can't help it, he sees a cute, fuzzy little creature in need and he's dropping everything to assist the little guy. it's a little sweet watching him take care of animals like puppies or kittens, but he brought home a bear cub once and that's when it became a problem. you do kind of miss mishka though.

♡ - his upper body strength is INSANE. it's not news to anyone, not even you, but it was a little shocking when nikolai asked you to sit on his back while he was doing push-ups. and he did a good amount of them!! if he noticed your shocked expression when he was done, he didn't mention it, but he does subtly flex in front of you every once in a while. what? he's just proud of his physique.

♡ - it might just be because of where he grew up, but he's always checking if you're cold or not, especially during the night. the second you say yes, he's dropping everything to find you a better coat, or blanket, or he even gives you his gloves. he doesn't want you to be cold :( you're always welcome to leech off his body heat too.

primis takeo:

♡ - the proud owner of a very impressive and vast collection of bladed weapons. he prefers swords by a long shot, but even he can't turn away from a well-forged knife. it would probably be concerning if it was literally anyone else, but it's takeo so it's cool.

♡ - a relationship with takeo is an extremely slow burn, but once you've finally crossed that threshold, takeo is in it for life. he takes the term "ride or die" very seriously, and he's willing to do nearly anything for you. takeo would even kill for you if asked. anything to make you happy. anything to keep blood off your hands.

♡ - takeo is very graceful and collected in all aspects of life, except for the first few minutes after he wakes up. his brain tends to lag behind during those moments and sleep still has a tight hold on him, so it results in him looking completely and utterly bewildered as he takes in his surroundings. sometimes he mutters incomprehensible things in japanese during this, and it's hard to keep yourself from laughing. he's kind of embarrassed by it once he fully wakes up.

♡ - he will NEVER admit it, but he has entertained the thought of being a house husband before. what he found even more embarrassing, however, was that he realized he would be very good at it. he's a good cook, he's a god at keeping things neat and tidy, and he would enjoy having time to himself for a while. takeo will never bring this up, but if you do, he's down for it.

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Roses

Xiao Dejun x Reader

Word Count: 7,100 Genre: Angst, Fluff, Non-idol AU Rating: Adult themes, MINORS DNI!

Summary: Dejun has an intense crush on you, his best friend's girlfriend, but knows that he can never tell you. When you and Kun get into an argument, however, and Dejun is the first person that you call for comfort, repressed feelings come to light. Will the relationship last, or will the wounds of the past drive a wedge between you?

Warnings: Incredibly toxic relationship, objectification, mentions of sex but no smut, technically cheating, making out, using sex as a coping mechanism, unhealthy coping mechanisms in general, panic attacks, you could probably describe the way Reader reacts to certain things as PTSD symptoms, angst with no happy ending. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: So this fic happened because I had Roses by Shawn Mendes and Roses by Jaehyun stuck in my head at the same time, and I wanted to see if I could write something that would connect the two songs into one story. I love both Shawn and Jaehyun's music, and I love writing fics inspired by songs, so this was a really fun challenge for me! I really hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Permanent taglist: @xomakara

Fic is under the cut.

Dejun knew that the way he felt about you could only end in heartbreak for him. Did that stop his crush on you, though? Absolutely not. Sure, you were his best friend’s girlfriend, and he knew that he probably would never be with you, but that didn’t change the fact that he thought about you all the time. He knew that you would never think about him the same way, though, so he was planning to take his feelings for you to his grave.

Keeping his crush on you a secret only got harder for Dejun, however, when Kun brought you to dinner with the rest of their friend group to celebrate Sicheng getting a promotion at work. Dejun knew that you would be there, of course, since everyone was bringing their partners, but knowing that he would see you never quite seemed to prepare him for how beautiful you were.

When Dejun saw you walk into the restaurant, he couldn’t help but stare. Your hair was done in an elegant updo, your makeup was simple but still looked amazing, and the bright blue dress you wore to match Kun’s tie showed your body off perfectly. You were beautiful, and Dejun could only hope that you knew it.

You were honestly dreading dinner with your boyfriend and his friends. Sure, you got along well with Kun’s friends, but your relationship with Kun wasn’t what it used to be. When you first started dating, he was such a gentleman. He treated you with nothing but respect and kindness, never let a day go by without telling you how beautiful he thought you were, and generally made you feel more loved than you ever had.

As your relationship went on, however, the way Kun treated you only got worse. For example, he didn’t even try to hold the door for you when you entered the restaurant for dinner, even though you weren’t far behind him. You also couldn’t remember the last time he’d said something nice about you that didn’t have anything to do with sex or your body, and you would have been lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t hurt to be treated like nothing more than an object.

When you greeted Kun’s friends, they all smiled and hugged you, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. If you were being honest with yourself, part of the reason that you’d stayed with Kun for so long, even after your relationship seemed to go to shit, was how close you’d gotten to his friends. You were especially close to Yangyang and Dejun. In the years that you’d known them, they’d made it abundantly clear that you could talk to them anytime you were having a problem. Plus, their goofy songs and bad jokes never failed to make you smile.

You knew that it was wrong, especially because of how close he was to your boyfriend, but sometimes, you couldn’t help but think that Dejun was incredibly attractive, too. His smile gave you butterflies, and he was never anything but kind and respectful to you.

It was probably crazy for you to think this, but you were fairly sure that Dejun liked you too. Every time you talked to him, without fail, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. You also frequently caught him checking you out when he thought that you and Kun weren’t really paying attention, and he made a point to compliment you every time he saw you. For example, when he greeted you at dinner, he said, “You look great tonight, you know. The eyeshadow you’re wearing really makes your eye color pop.”

“Thank you, Dejun. It’s nice to have someone appreciate the effort I put into my appearance.” Kun gave you a dirty look when you said that, but you pretended not to notice. You loved your boyfriend, sure, but it was also nice to have someone notice you beyond your sex appeal.

Maybe he was going crazy, but Dejun was certain that he saw you blush when he complimented your makeup. Was it possible that you were into him? For a long time, he’d been fairly certain that you weren’t, especially when he considered the fact that you were dating Kun. When he saw the look in your eyes and the blush on your cheeks, however, it made him wonder. If you really did like him, maybe that meant he didn’t have to keep hiding how he felt about you.

Throughout dinner, although he was there to celebrate with Sicheng, Dejun consistently found himself getting distracted by you. He did a decent job maintaining conversations with his friends, of course, but he ended up not-so-discreetly staring at you every time someone wasn’t addressing him directly. He could only hope that Kun didn’t notice.

Kun definitely noticed the way Dejun was looking at you. That much was clear from the way he gripped your arm tighter and made small comments about you being “his girl” more frequently than he typically would when you two went out. You wanted to reassure him that everyone at the table knew that you were his girl, but you knew that nothing you could say would get him to calm down.

Conflicts like the one you knew you would have to deal with when you went home happened a lot when you and Kun went out with his friends. He would be absolutely certain one of his friends liked you, you’d try to reassure him, it wouldn’t work, and you would have sex as soon as you got home so that he could “remind you who you belong to.” The constant arguing was tiring, but the sex was always incredible when Kun was angry, if you were being honest. So, you didn’t really mind the stress in the end, even though you probably should have.

Dinner ended with a toast to Sicheng’s new job. You tried to distract yourself with the celebration of a new chapter in your friend’s life, but you couldn’t think about anything but Kun’s hand, which had moved from your arm to your thigh. Every time he saw Dejun look at you, Kun gripped your leg tighter. By the time you were both ready to leave, he was gripping you so tightly that you were in pain, and not the good kind.

Kun let go of you when everyone got up from the table, and like an idiot, you thought that everything would be ok. The thought was immediately replaced with concerns for how the rest of your night would go, however, when he grabbed your hand instead, with the exact same tight grip that he’d had when he had his hand on your thigh. You tried to turn away from him to say goodbye to your mutual friends, but before you could, you were being dragged out of the restaurant by your boyfriend.

Dejun saw the way that Kun treated you throughout dinner, and his blood boiled. He knew that his friend had a jealous streak, as indicated by the fact that he pretty much exclusively referred to you as his girl when the entire friend group got together, but the look on your face as you left the restaurant made Dejun want nothing more than to give Kun a piece of his mind and show you that you deserved better. This wasn’t the time for that, though. He didn’t want to even try unless he knew for sure that you felt the same way he did, since the thought of making you even slightly uncomfortable made him feel awful.

When you got home, the argument didn’t start right away like you expected. Instead, Kun made simple small talk with you by asking, “So, how was your food?”

“It was good. What I ended up ordering was different from what I usually get, but I still liked it a lot. How was your food, honey?”

Kun softened when he heard the sweet nickname leave your mouth. He loved when you called him “honey,” and you knew it. A soft smile appeared on his face, and he said, “Same as always.”

“I guess that means you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Are you ok, honey?”

“I’m ok, sweetheart. Just thinking about some stuff.”

“What is it?”

“Did you see the way that Dejun was looking at you tonight?”

“No. I wasn’t paying attention, really. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just wish he understood that you’re mine,” Kun said, venom dripping from every word. Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. He didn’t like that however, so he asked, “Are you seriously not going to say anything?”

“What am I supposed to say? We’ve already had this exact argument a thousand times, and no matter what I say, it doesn’t change.”

“Maybe you could apologize for making me look like a fool in front of all of my friends?”

“When did I make you look like a fool?”

“Thank you, Dejun. It’s nice to have someone appreciate the effort I put into my appearance,” Kun repeated, mocking what you’d said at dinner.

“I wouldn’t have said it if you actually liked me beyond wanting to fuck me!”

“You have to know that isn’t true.”

“Well, I fucking don’t, Kun.”

The argument continued for what felt like hours before Kun thought it would be a good idea to grab your ass and try to pull you into a kiss. You pushed him away, though, still far too angry for intimacy. A small part of you felt guilty afterward because of the hurt look on his face, but a larger part of you was too exhausted by the constant fighting to care anymore.

Kun started to speak after you pushed him away, but before he got the words out, you stopped him and said, “Go home. I’m not doing this anymore tonight.” After that, he left your apartment without a word.

Once Kun was out of your apartment, the first thing that you did was call Dejun. He answered immediately, asking, “Are you ok?”

You tried to hide the storm brewing inside of you, but your voice broke when you said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you busy?”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a lot. Can you just come over?”

“Yeah, of course. Isn’t Kun there, though?”

You started to cry harder at the mention of your boyfriend, and Dejun cursed himself for asking about Kun. Once you regained your composure, though, you said, “No. He just left.”

“Ok. Well, I’m on my way.”

“Thank you.”

The moment Dejun hung up the phone, he got ready to leave. He probably broke several traffic laws to get to your apartment, but he really didn’t care about that. All he cared about was being there for you when you clearly needed someone in your corner. As he drove, a small part of him wondered what had happened that upset you so much. He figured that something had happened with Kun, given how much you cried at just the mention of your boyfriend’s name, but he didn’t know more than that. He did know that asking was a bad idea, though.

When Dejun got to your apartment, he softly knocked on your door. There was a moment of silence while he waited for you to answer, and during that time, he started to wonder about what could have happened and whether you were ok. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to think about it, however, because you answered the door pretty quickly.

When you opened the door and saw Dejun, you couldn’t help but smile. He really dropped everything in the middle of the night so that he could spend time with you while you were hurting. Your own boyfriend never even did that for you. The thought stung a little bit, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were really willing to keep putting up with the way that Kun had treated you for so long. Leaving him wasn’t exactly ideal, but to be fair, neither was being treated more like a trophy than a girlfriend.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Dejun asking, “(Y/N)? Are you ok?”

“I’m ok, Dejun. Thank you for coming over so quickly,” you said as you moved out of the way to let him into your apartment.

“It’s no problem, really. I’m happy to be there for you however you need me to be,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. You immediately melted into his arms, relieved to just be held.

Both of you were quiet for a few minutes as you each relaxed into the other’s embrace. You were the first one to break the comfortable silence that had formed, asking, “So, do you wanna watch a movie?”

“That sounds great. Anything specific that you had in mind?”

“I don’t really know. I was thinking that we could just look for something on Netflix?”

“That works for me,” Dejun replied with a smile.

The two of you spent what felt like an eternity searching for a movie to watch. In the end, you settled on a rom com that neither of you had ever heard of before. The synopsis that Netflix showed for the movie sounded compelling, though, so you and Dejun both figured it couldn’t be too boring.

Oh, how wrong you both were. The story was bland, the acting was terrible, and neither of you cared to continue watching it. The only enjoyable thing about watching the movie was the fact that you were watching it with Dejun. For the entirety of the awful movie, he held you close, and the two of you took turns making snarky comments about the film.

“Oh my god, why are you doing this to yourself, you dumb bitch!” you yelled at the screen as the female lead took her toxic ex back once again.

“People do crazy things for love,” Dejun said with a laugh.

“There’s a difference between crazy and stupid, though!”

“I guess you’re right,” Dejun replied, thinking about how good it felt to hold you close and how you seemed just as content as he was.

With the main couple being reunited for the third time, the worst movie you’d seen in a long time was finally over. You didn’t want your time with Dejun to end with the movie, however, so you asked, “Do you want to listen to music and talk for a bit?”

“I’d love to,” Dejun answered.

You put on a random playlist from your Spotify library, and once again, a comfortable silence settled over you as you got lost in thoughts of Dejun. You knew that it was wrong, but you found yourself far more attracted to him than you ever were to your boyfriend. Sure, you loved Kun, at least you thought you did, but Dejun made you feel like he loved you in a way that Kun didn’t even try to anymore.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Dejun asked, “Are you feeling better?”

With a soft smile, you replied, “Yes. I am. Thank you.”

With confirmation that you were in fact ok, Dejun decided that now was the time to tell you how he really felt. With a deep breath to calm his anxiety, he asked, “Would it be ok to ask something a bit personal?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything ok?” you asked, wondering what was going on.

“Are you happy with him?”

There was a deafening silence after Dejun asked the one question that you did not want to answer in that moment. Truthfully, you weren’t. You hadn’t been for a long time, and you knew that the only way to be happier was to leave Kun. The idea of having to start over after four and a half years was incredibly daunting, however. That was a big part of the reason that you stayed with him despite how badly you wanted to leave.

You opened your mouth to answer Dejun’s question, but when you tried to speak, you started to cry instead. When he heard you cry, he immediately regretted asking. In a panic, he said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I’m really not. I haven’t been for a long time.”

“Talk to me.”

That was when you decided to tell him the truth. The whole truth. You started with why you’d asked him to come over, explaining, “We got in another argument.”

“What do you mean, ‘another?’” Dejun asked.

“Every time we go out with you and the rest of our friends, Kun leaves absolutely certain that one of you is attracted to me. No matter how many times I reassure him, he insists that it’s true.”

Dejun was shocked by your admission. Sure, he’d figured that you and Kun had a fight, and he saw the way that Kun treated you at dinner, but he had no idea just how unhealthy your relationship had gotten. He also had no idea what to say to comfort you, so he just hugged you as you started to cry.

You told Dejun everything as you cried, from what Kun had said about your comment at dinner to the way your arguments typically ended. Dejun was horrified, to say the least. He’d known Kun for most of his life, and he never thought that the man he called his best friend would be capable of treating someone he claimed to love the way he’d treated you.

When Dejun was certain that you were done explaining, he looked at you with a few stray tears in his eyes and said, “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, though.”

“But you guys got into an argument because of the way I treated you at dinner.”

“Junnie, I promise you that it’s not your fault. If it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been someone else.”

“But this time it wasn’t just his jealousy talking,” Dejun whispered.

You were silent for a moment before you asked, “What do you mean?”

“Do you want the truth?” he asked. You nodded, and he continued, “I’ve liked you for a long time. I never said anything because I thought you were happy with Kun, but now that I know how he treats you, I can’t keep quiet anymore. I know that I could make you happier if you gave me a chance.”

You would have been lying if you’d said that you were surprised by Dejun’s confession. Sure, the timing caught you by surprise, but you’d had a feeling that he liked you for a while. Still, his confession gave you a lot to think about. Were you ready to finally end your relationship with Kun?

In the end, you decided that you were. You were tired of being treated the way you were, and you desperately wanted to be with someone that you knew would treat you with more respect than Kun did. In a moment that you hoped you wouldn’t regret; you wrapped your arms around Dejun’s neck and kissed him.

Dejun was definitely taken by surprise, to say the least, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed that you kissed him, either. After all, he’d liked you for a long time. Finally having confirmation that you liked him too made him happier than he’d been in months.

When you pulled away from the kiss, you smiled and said, “If that wasn’t enough proof, I like you too, Junnie.”

With a soft smile on his face, Dejun said, “I like when you call me Junnie. It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“Well, you’re adorable.”

You blushed at his words and asked, “Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. I just need to go back to my apartment and grab a few things. Will you be ok while I do that?”

“I’ll be ok. I think while you do that I’m gonna call Kun and tell him it’s over.”

“Do you need me to stay so that you have a little bit of extra support?”

“I’ll be ok, Junnie. Just knowing you’ll be coming back here is enough.”

“Ok. I’ll be back soon. If you need anything at all, just send me a message, and I’ll be back as soon as possible. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Dejun quickly pecked your cheek and went back to his apartment. While Dejun was gone, you called Kun. When he answered, he was much sweeter than he’d been before he left your apartment, asking, “What’s up, princess?”

You almost chickened out when he called you princess, but just like you knew it would, the thought of Dejun coming back strengthened your resolve. With a deep breath, you said, “It’s over.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our relationship. It’s over.”

In an instant, Kun’s demeanor shifted, and he asked, “Are you fucking serious? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“By ‘what you’ve done for me,’ do you mean treating me like the dirt under your shoe unless you want something? Or do you mean insisting that your friends are into me every time we go out so that you can initiate sex to remind me ‘who I belong to?’”

“I did not-”

“Don’t even try to defend yourself. We’re done.”

Once Kun realized you were serious, he asked, “You know that no one will ever love you like I did, right?” in a last-ditch attempt to get you to stay.

“For my sake, I hope you’re right,” you replied as you hung up for the last time.

Of course, you were relieved that your relationship with Kun was over, but you were still upset that you had to end the relationship in the first place. Sure, you knew that it was for the best, but you also knew that you’d been in a relationship with Kun for a long time, and jumping right into whatever was happening with Dejun was honestly a little bit scary.

You didn’t have to be alone with your anxiety for long, though, since Dejun got back to your apartment just a few minutes after your call with Kun ended. When you opened the door, you noticed that he was holding something behind his back. You wanted to ask him what it was, but before you could, he asked, “How did the call go?”

“It went fine, I guess. Kun and I are officially done now.”

“Good, because I have a surprise for you.”

“What do you-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Dejun pulled a bouquet of bright red roses out from behind his back. You started to tear up just a little bit when you saw them, but you did maintain your composure long enough to ask, “When did you get these?”

“After I grabbed some stuff from my apartment. I made an extra stop on the way back here.”

Dejun handed you the roses, and you carefully placed them on the table. Then, he pulled you into a hug, and you started to cry once again. Whether they were tears of pain at the end of your relationship or tears of relief that you weren’t going to be mistreated anymore, you couldn’t really say. Regardless, Dejun was right there, holding you close as you cried until you couldn’t anymore.

When Dejun was certain that you were no longer crying, he carefully let go of you and asked, “Will you be ok long enough for me to go to the kitchen and get you a glass of water?”

“Of course. Thank you, Junnie.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart. Which cabinet do you keep glasses in?”

“The one directly above the stove.”

“I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok.”

While you waited for Dejun to come back from the kitchen, you decided to sit down on your couch and focus on keeping yourself calm. It worked mostly, though a few more surprise tears did still slip out. With that being said, you were already starting to feel better about the breakup. You’d spent years being an emotional punching bag for Kun, and now here you were in your living room with a man that held you when you cried and was happy to take care of you when you needed someone.

When Dejun came back, he held a glass of water in each hand. One of them was carefully placed on the table to keep it from spilling, and the other was placed directly in your hands. With a slightly stern look on his face, he said, “Drink. You need it.”

You did as you were instructed, taking a long sip from your glass before setting it next to the other one on the table. With a smile on your face, you said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me today.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“Yes I do.” There was a moment of silence before you added, “Sit down, Junnie. Please?”

“Alright,” he said with a chuckle. Once he found a comfortable position next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh of relief that the chaos of the day was finally over. As you relaxed with Dejun, the two of you talked about pretty much everything as a way to keep your mind off of Kun. And for the most part, it worked. Sure, every so often you would remember something that you did with your now ex and get upset, but Dejun was right there to comfort you with forehead kisses and terrible jokes.

After a while, though, you started to get really tired. So, you asked, “Can we go to sleep now?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You slowly stood up from your place on the couch and put the roses that Dejun had given you earlier into a vase filled with water. Once they were carefully positioned on your kitchen counter, you went to your bedroom to change into your favorite set of pajamas. Dejun decided to change in your bathroom, and once you were both fully dressed again, he joined you in your room.

While finding a comfortable position to sleep in was a little bit challenging at first, it didn’t take long for you and Dejun to settle in. Before you went to sleep, though, you looked up at him and said, “Seriously, thank you for being there for me today. I don’t think I could have broken up with Kun if you weren’t in my corner.”

“I’ll always be in your corner.”

You smiled at the reassurance from Dejun and kissed his cheek. He kissed your forehead to return the favor, and you said, “Good night, Junnie.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

The next morning, you woke up slightly confused as to why there was another person in your bed. Then you started to remember the events of the night before and relaxed, content to stay in Dejun’s arms until he woke up.

Dejun woke up not long after you did, and the first thing he said to you was, “Good morning, gorgeous.”

“Stop,” you groaned, embarrassed by the early morning affection.

“But you are gorgeous.”

You smiled at the compliment and kissed Dejun’s cheek. He blushed at the small gesture and hugged you tighter, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sweet way he was acting toward you. Not wanting it to end, you asked, “So, does last night mean that we’re a thing now?”

“I mean I thought so. Otherwise, this is about to get really awkward,” he responded with a chuckle.

“I thought so, too. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page,” you said before kissing him again.

Dejun melted into the kiss, and you couldn’t help but tangle your hands in his hair. A soft moan left his mouth, which you liked more than you thought you would. Before the two of you could go too much further, though, your phone rang.

With a groan, you sat up to see who was calling you. When you saw Kun’s number on your screen, however, you silenced your phone and sighed.

“Who was it?” Dejun asked.

“Take a guess,” you said with a laugh.

“Did he seriously call you?”

“Yeah. I know I should have been mature about it and answered, but I really do not want to talk to him anymore.”

“Did you leave anything at his apartment?”

“No, I never have.”

“Then he has no reason to talk to you.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

A soft smile graced your features, and you kissed Dejun again. God, you didn’t think you could ever get tired of the way he kissed you. Whereas kisses from Kun were usually a means to an end, when Dejun kissed you, you felt the love radiating from every part of him. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, it was a relief to not be treated like an object when you were with him.

After that first night that Dejun spent at your apartment, he was rarely at his own. You loved falling asleep next to him, and he was happy to spend the night any time that you asked. And you did ask frequently.

It was actually during one of the nights that Dejun spent at your apartment that he told you he loved you for the first time. You were about to go to sleep, but just before you drifted off, you heard him say something that you couldn’t quite make out. So, you asked, “What was that, Junnie?”

“I love you.”

You almost didn’t believe him, thinking it was too good to be true, but you didn’t want to risk sounding like an asshole if you said that. So, you just smiled and said, “I love you, too.”

Dejun didn’t respond to your declaration verbally, but you didn’t need or want him to. You were perfectly content with the way he held you tighter after you told him that you loved him, and you were happy to drift off to sleep in his arms once again. This time, however, the knowledge that he loved you just like you loved him made it much easier to relax and get some rest.

While you did find a lot of comfort in just spending time with Dejun at your apartment, you also loved going out on dates with him. Your favorite place to go was a small family-owned restaurant across town. The food wasn’t always the best, and the building was often very crowded, but the little restaurant grew to basically be a second home for you and Dejun as the months went by. Pretty much everyone that worked there knew the two of you after a while, and you never left there without a smile on your face and food in your stomach that tasted like home.

One of the many things about Dejun that you loved was that he always made sure that you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him. Sure, there were big gestures here and there, like the dress that he bought you for your birthday that you’d been eyeing at your local mall for months. But it was the little things that he did when you least expected them that really solidified how much he loved you.

Dejun’s favorite “small” way to show you that he loved you was buying you roses. He knew that it would sound cheesy if he ever told you, but it really was one of his favorite ways to show affection. The way your eyes lit up when you saw him with flowers in hand and a smile on his face made his heart do backflips in his chest every single time, no matter how long it had been since the first time he got you flowers the night your relationship became official.

Despite the good in your relationship, there were also a few things that Dejun really wanted to address with you. One of the things that he noticed pretty early on was that you tended to use sex as a coping mechanism whenever something went wrong. Even if everything in your relationship was perfect, all it took was a minor inconvenience at work and you were begging him to fuck you. He tried to raise his concerns, since he didn’t want you to turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms when he was happy to help you find a healthier outlet for your emotions, but you panicked in the middle of the conversation.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew that the way you handled your emotions wasn’t exactly healthy. It was what you were used to, however, due to a number of situations in previous relationships. As you listened to Dejun’s explanation of why he was worried about you, you started to think about those relationships and how no one had ever cared about you as much as Dejun did. The thought led to a downward spiral as you started to wonder whether you actually deserved to be with the man that you loved, and a few stray tears fell from your eyes.

The moment you started to cry, Dejun pulled you close and said, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve just been so worried, and I thought talking about it might help.”

“It’s ok,” you responded in between sobs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t apologize, love. Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s ok. Just breathe for me, ok?”

You nodded and took a deep breath. As your sobs started to slow, you looked at Dejun and said, “I don’t think I deserve you.”

Dejun was quiet for a moment before he said, “You deserve the best, love. I only wish I could give it to you.”

“Don’t say that, Junnie. You are the best. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The two of you just sat in silence after that, both of you unsure of how to continue the conversation. It was kind of odd if you were being completely honest with yourself. Even on the exceedingly rare occasions that you and Dejun argued, there was never an awkward silence like the one that plagued you after your admission that you felt like you didn’t deserve him. You started to wonder if you’d done something wrong when you said it, but you just weren’t sure what to do. Regardless, you wanted to solve the problems that you’d noticed popping up here and there in your relationship.

For a long time, you did put in a conscious effort to learn better coping skills, and it really paid off. All of your effort started to feel like it was all for nothing, however, when you and Dejun went to your local mall for a date and ran into your ex.

Kun was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. Regardless of his surprise, however, he really wanted to try to talk to you. He regretted how he’d treated you when you were together, and a small part of him hoped that he could make it up to you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Kun said, hoping that his voice didn’t betray how nervous he was.

You instinctively gripped Dejun’s hand tighter before you asked, “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to know if you’d like to catch up. It’s been a while, and I miss you,” Kun said, an exaggerated pout forming on his face.

“No, thanks. I’m not interested,” you replied.

“Come on, (Y/N). Please?”

“She said no, asshole,” Dejun interjected, letting go of your hand to step closer to Kun.

“Whatever,” Kun said as he walked away.

When Dejun was certain that Kun was gone, he turned to you and pulled you into a tight hug, asking, “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok, Junnie,” you responded. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“I always will, love.”

With the mood of your date night ruined, you asked Dejun to take you home earlier than you’d originally planned. He readily agreed, disappointed that your date was over but understanding that you needed space to recharge.

When you finally got back to your apartment, you softly kissed Dejun’s cheek and told him you loved him. He told you once again that he loved you and to text him if you needed anything. You halfheartedly agreed and shut the door so that you could cry in peace.

After your run-in with Kun, your relationship with Dejun only seemed to get worse. The two of you argued constantly over everything from his lack of understanding when memories of your previous relationship wouldn’t leave your mind to your lack of trust in him as a result of everything that you’d been through. Even the little habits that Dejun had previously told you that he’d loved seemed to set him off after a while, and you started to wonder if your relationship had run its course.

You knew for sure that your relationship with Dejun was pretty much over when he stopped getting you roses when you went on dates. From the moment the two of you made it official, he’d bought you roses for every single date. Even if it was just a casual hangout at the park by your apartment building. When you got there, he was holding a bouquet of roses in what had become your favorite shade of red. You didn’t entirely know why it changed, but for your last several dates, there were no roses. He didn’t even acknowledge it or give some excuse like forgetting to stop at the store before your date. They just stopped.

You wanted to ask Dejun why he’d stopped doing the little things like buying you flowers, but you were concerned about sounding too needy. After all, any time you tried to talk to Kun about the way he treated you, he called you a crazy bitch and treated you like a burden for wanting something different than what he gave you. Deep down, you knew that Dejun was different and would never treat you the way Kun had, but your fear of being hurt again tended to rule over any kind of logic when you were upset.

In the end, there was no massive fight about why Dejun didn’t seem to want to be there for you anymore like you were expecting. In fact, the end of your relationship was much more aptly described as a subtle fading away than an explosion of emotions. Instead of a screaming match that left both of you angry and in tears, there was a simple conversation.

“I don’t think this is working,” you said.

Dejun wanted to fight for a chance to keep trying, he really did, but he saw the way that the changes in the relationship had affected you, and he didn’t want to keep you stuck. So, he just said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It was bound to happen.”

“Does this mean what I think it means?” he asked, his voice breaking and betraying the calm demeanor he tried to put forward for your sake.

You didn’t even answer him with words. Instead, you just nodded, trying not to break down in tears yourself.

Dejun wanted to cling to you and beg you to rethink your decision, but he knew better. He knew that the decision to end the relationship was one that you’d struggled with from the way you seemed to just deflate when you confirmed that it was indeed over, and he knew better than to push you when you’d made up your mind on something. Not wanting to continue bothering you, he just said, “I love you,” and walked out your door for the last time.

The moment Dejun was out the door, you started to sob. You knew that it was for the best, but that didn’t mean that ending your relationship with the one man that had ever treated you with respect didn’t hurt like hell.

Regardless of how badly it hurt to let Dejun go, however, you were determined to turn your pain into productivity. You started going to therapy for the first time in your life, you spent more time with your friends, and when you thought that you were ready, you decided to put yourself back out there.

Admittedly, you and Yangyang had drifted apart when your relationship with Kun ended. After you broke up with Dejun, however, the two of you grew closer than you’d ever been. Yangyang was incredibly intelligent, absolutely hilarious, and genuinely one of the kindest souls that you’d ever met. He didn’t necessarily give you the sense of safety that being with Dejun had given you, but he still made you happy. That was all that mattered to you.

It had been six months since the last time Dejun spoke to you when he saw you out with Yangyang on a random day at the mall. The sight gave him a variety of complex emotions, if he was being completely honest with himself. On one hand, he was hurt that you’d started seeing one of his friends after the two of you broke up. On the other hand, seeing you happy made him happier than you would ever know.

But, despite how happy Dejun was to see you happy, he didn’t stay at the mall long after he saw you with Yangyang. He would have to finish his shopping another day. For now, he was careful not to think about you on the drive home. Once he was back at his apartment, however, he spent most of his evening thinking about you. That wasn’t necessarily different from the norm, though. Thinking about his relationship with you was a common occurrence. He thought about what went wrong, sure, but he really tried to focus on what went right for the two of you. As he remembered the way your eyes lit up every time you told him about something exciting happening at your job, however, he couldn’t help but start to cry again.

Dejun had cried over failed relationships before, but he wasn’t still crying six months later with any of his exes. You were just special in his mind, and he was having a harder time getting over you than he’d ever had getting over an ex before. Still, he knew that time would heal this wound, too. Until then, though, while he would be happy that someone was buying you roses, he would continue to wish that he could still be the one to do it.

Thank you so much for reading! I think this might be my favorite one shot I've ever written. If you liked it too, make sure to like and reblog! If you liked it enough that you want to check out more of my work, you can find my masterlist here. If you'd like to see what else I have in the works, you can find my upcoming works list here. If none of that catches your attention, or there's something specific that you'd like to see, feel free to send me a request via asks or dms! If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, you can comment on one of my posts, send me a dm, or send me an ask with the username that you'd like tagged!

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