#overtime i do Not get paid for nor can i even it out with free time officially | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halaboyz · 5 months ago

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lost times, seungyoun

(ex) bf! cho seungyoun x gn! reader angst, breakup au wc: 3.3k warnings: none that i know of a/n: I MISS MY BABY AND I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANY ANGST FOR HIM SO !

"Youn, baby, what time do you get off work?" You coo through the phone, smiling as you fixed your things. "I just got off mine, I was planning on asking you out if you'll be out early,"

"Ah..." Seungyoun sighs, and you instantly knew what it meant.

"Overtime again?" You smile drops, pouting. "I can't do anything about that, then," You press your lips to a thin line, stepping out of the company building to look at the sky. What a waste, the weather was perfect today.

"I'm sorry. I'll be home late again, so make sure you lock the door and sleep tight," You nod at no one in particular, humming in response.

"Just make sure you have your Saturday night free for me," You remind, and you hear him chuckle.

"Of course, that's our fourth year anniversary. Would miss anything for that night,"

"Okay, then. Get working," You smile again hearing his response, bidding goodbye. "I'm going home now, I'll just send you a text when I do. Please get some rest when you can, and don't overwork! Just work how much you're paid," You joke around, ending the call after you get a response.

Your smile still drops after you hear the call ending, though. It was such a beautiful night, neither cold or hot, streets weren't as crowded as weekend nights, and you were still on your best condition.

But that's alright. For Seungyoun, it was alright. You understand that he's doing a lot more work than usual due to employee promotion right at the corner.

Yet you can't help the feeling of another night of surging in the loneliness as you walk home, wind gushing right through your face. It wasn't cold nor hot, but it was chilly for you. You had another night to yourself, with no one to hold on to, and no one to lean on to.

The feeling worsens when you realize that because of the good weather, a lot more couples were walking around, lovey-dovey and touchy while being in their own world. You can be like that too. You know you could be like that too.

If only he had given you the same amount of attention he did with his work.

If only he had prioritized you as well. You're not asking for much, you don't even ask to prioritize you more than his work. Just as much as his work. Just as much as he promised you when he gave you a promise ring.

To make you happy in all ways.

So how could you be so down now for a few weeks straight already?

Look, you're not hanging on him like he's your lifeline-- but who would be okay with only seeing your live-in boyfriend when you're lucky you're still awake by the time he's home? Or lucky when you wake up before he does to go to work? Or when the world's upside down and he actually has a day off?

"So... he's not your boyfriend." And when you actually, finally, open this up to someone, your bestfriend Yibo, he hits you with his words so bluntly.

"What part did you miss, Yibo? He's your friend too," You roll your eyes, not getting into his sarcasm.

"He's basically just your roommate," He scoffs, putting his drink down.

"I, for sure, shouldn't have asked you to hang," You mumble, nibbling your fries.

"Well, I guess the night was too young and pretty to pass up on," He gets one of your fries and pops it into his mouth, "If this was going on for so long, how come you're only telling me now?"

"It was our problem, of course we had to solve it,"

"How come you're solving it alone then?" He points out, grit in his tone of voice, anxious to make you get his point. "You see, what's the point of having a boyfriend if your life is as is? It's literally just more problems, isn't it?"

"Yibo," You sternly call out, making him sigh and nod.

"Okay, fine," He tries to calm you down, "I just don't really get it, y/n. He's not doing you any better. You try to work it out, but he's not even there! So what's the point?" His ted talk was short, but critical to you. It was what you needed, his bluntness. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things for you, to be able to lift yourself up from drowning. "You're my friend, he's my friend. I want the best for the both of you and if it means being better all together or not, I am going to vote on that,"

You were both silent for a few minutes before a call breaks it, vibrating in your pocket. You take it out to look at the caller ID, showing it to him.

"I'll go to the washroom real quick, take that."

You sigh, smiling at him then at the phone, actually wondering if you answer it or not. Your thumb glides to answer it anyway, whipping the phone to your ear.

"Hey, baby," You hum, ever so sweetly.

"Oh hey love," Seungyoun calls you through the phone, hearing papers being tossed. "I was just wondering if you're home yet. You haven't texted,"

"Oh, right. Sorry, I asked Yibo to hang tonight. The weather was too nice to pass on," You took Yibo's words to say and repeat, shaking your head. "Sorry. I forgot to send you a text. Are you done with work?"

"I actually am, where are you? Maybe I can drop by and get you," The slightest hope was what keeps you going. What keeps you holding. The slightest efforts, the slightest trying to make it better. You smile, now a genuine one, propping up your seat as you see Yibo walking out of the washroom and back to the table.

"Wait for me there, I'll go there." You mumble, not wanting Yibo to hear it but he had elephant ears. You hear Seungyoun chuckle when he hears your excitement, mumbling a "Love you, stay safe." before ending the call.

"Come on," Yibo grunts, seeing your smile slowly go bigger and bigger. "Okay, whatever. But don't tell me I didn't talk to you about this,"

"I'll make sure to talk to him about this, too, Yibo. Don't worry! I'll get going now," You rush out of the table, side hugging him. "This is my treat!"

Walking to Seungyoun's company wasn't long, but you sure took your time. You've thought a lot on the walk, Yibo's words lingering in your mind.

"Hey baby," You shake your head to forget all about it just this night, seeing Seungyoun patiently waiting for you outside his company. You hop to his side, giving him a big warm hug.

"Baby," Seungyoun whispers as he burrows himself in the crook of your neck, finding home in your scent and warmth. "Missed you,"

"Missed me? We brushed each other this morning," You chuckle, breaking the hug to take a good look on his face. Initially, you were still up in offering a walk down the road, but the tired look on his face makes you rethink.

"Literally. Brushed. When I was leaving you just got out of bed," Seungyoun pouts, squinting at you. "Don't tell me you didn't miss me,"

"I bet I missed you more," You challenge, confidently raising your shoulders. He laughs wholeheartedly, taking you into his arms again with a sigh of contentment. You caress his back, melting into his arms. "Let's go home?" You feel him shake his head, staying a bit longer in your arms as you both stay like that in silence.

"Don't you wanna go for a walk? Or do you wanna go somewhere?"

See? It's the little things, little efforts that Seungyoun does to keep you on your toes. That keeps you from leaving. The little trying to be better for you. You smile, cupping his red cheeks. You stare a little longer, slowly shaking your head.

"It's fine, we can go home now. We're both tired," You try and assure him, thumb rubbing his cheeks to keep it warm.

" Did you have too much fun with Yibo? Should I get jealous?" Seungyoun makes you snort when his reply leaves his lips, pressing his cheeks together as he raises his eyebrows.

"Are you crazy? I literally left Yibo for you." It was true. The moment his call connected, you knew you were going to come running for him anyway. "Besides, I don't wanna tire you out when we can rest the night as early as we can, right?"

Seungyoun smiles as he gently places his palm over your cheeks as well, rubbing his thumbs over it.

"Okay." He finally agrees, walking hand in hand as you walk down the road to your humble abode. You spent the night cuddling and sleeping in each other's arms, or at least he did.

You were up all night rethinking all of Yibo's words, and Seungyoun's broken promises.

You shuffle around your sheets as you stretch around your bed, trying to find some warmth that your sheets can't give you. When you reach out beside you, it was already empty. You sigh. Like any other day.

When you look at your phone, you realize you've only been asleep for an hour and had some time to stare at the ceiling once again.

"Missed him," Like, literally both meanings of miss.

Do you even deserve any of this? You ask yourself for the nth time. It wasn't even since last night, or since Yibo talked to you. It was since the day you first felt so empty. The day you were alone, lonely, and empty, and Seungyoun wasn't there to console you, comfort you. And not that he wasn't able to, he just chose not to. Picking work over you, that god time whoever even invented overtime, he did it again.

Do you deserve sitting alone in the corner of your shared apartment, feeling alone, lonely, empty once again, even though there were signs of life of Seungyoun every inch of the apartment? Where there were hundreds of picture frames either hanging or standing ever so proudly on top of tables, pictures of when you were both still on your prime time?

Do you deserve crying, oh so god help you, exhausted and unaware of the time quickly passing through the whole day of your day off?

Did you deserve it?

"Baby, I'm home..." You hear Seungyoun enter the bedroom doors, shuffling to finally get in bed after a whole (and extra) day of working in his office. You quickly shut your eyes to pretend sleep, feeling him squat beside the bed on your side and look at you.

His warm palm rubs your cheeks that were red from all the crying wiping you did all day, noticing your puffed eyes also. He sighed, knowing that there was something going on again and you haven't had the leisure to share it with him. Of course, he was unaware that it was because of his absence due to work.

Because if you had a problem, you wouldn't mind sharing it with him anytime, right?

"I love you baby, good night." He whispers, landing a peck in your forehead and heading to the bathroom to wash himself up before actually diving into your warmth.

But for some reason, it was too cold for the both of you.

You, having to skip bedtime due to your muffled sobs, hopping out of bed to avoid waking Seungyoun up and continuing your breakdown in the dark living room. And Seungyoun, having to reach at the side of the bed to continuously find your warmth.

Only did he realize that there really was something wrong when you don't come back to the bed and he wakes up groggy because of it.

Until he has to leave. Again.

He watches you stir in your sleep on the couch, hesitating whether to wake you up or just carry you to the bed without having to wake you. He decides on the latter and thankfully, you were on your deep slumber (you weren't) that he didn't need to feel apologetic waking you accidentally.

He sighs as he drinks his morning coffee, watching the dark skies form dark clouds as it prepares to greet the sun. Maybe you were just finding the right time to share everything with him. Maybe that was it.

Until he continues to hear your helpless sobs outside the bedroom doors for a few more sleepless nights, and he knew it. He finally knew, he finally realized.

Of course it was about him. About the two of you. That's why you weren't able to share anything with him at all, and how you avoided him for a few nights already by having to sleep early or continue to sleep unbothered when he carries you from the couch to the bed.

Or hasn't it been always that way?

That when he arrives home, it is always too late in the night that you don't have any other choice but to sleep, because how can you wait for him when you have your work yourself too? That when he has to leave at literally dawn, of course, you were still sleeping soundly until he's gone?

Has it always been this way? Has he? Was he prioritizing things wrong? Is he doing something wrong?

Is there something wrong?

But the fact that you knew that he knew you were sobbing endlessly at night when he feigns sleep, the fact that you knew that he knew that he was leaning just at the other side of the door of the bedroom, waiting for your sobs to stop and leave when he has to leave, the fact that you knew he knew there was something wrong, but did nothing but avoid it and avoid talking about it and avoid you...

Finally, was your last straw.

And it was your fourth anniversary.

For the first time in ages, he's left his office desk while the sun was still there, peeking at the horizon while it prepares to go down, and he's hesitant of how the rest of the night will become.

You haven't talked to him after that night you cuddled each other, but he had to leave early again, as always, and the next night was your absolutely not first night of crying of the many.

He dropped by somewhere before he had no idea where he was headed next, because oh god he didn't even have the time to plan anything, and you haven't even texted or called or showed your face to hi pm the whole day.

Okay, home it was. At least he was positive that you were going to be there.

Both of you should be fine by now, right? You could at least talk it all out tonight, right? Make things right.

He fiddled with the velvety box he had tucked so deep in his pockets, heading home with a heavy chest and a sigh.

"Baby," He picks up a smile, removing his shoes and heading inside to find you, only to be welcomed with the coldest air he has ever felt in his life. His eyes wander around, feet busy to search every room for you, until you are both in the kitchen, meeting eye to eye.

You had a glass of water in your hand, puffy red eyes and dressed up. Oh, you weren't dolled up for a date. You were just... simply dressed up, like, about to leave.

"Y/n."

"Seungyoun, can we talk?" You try to pull a smile, which ends up being way worse than you could imagine as it immediately drops, sitting at the four seater dining table that felt so much longer and far away from Seungyoun.

Finally. A talk.

"Happy fourth year anniversary, baby." Seungyoun starts, trying to reach for your enclosed hand on top of the table but your hands timidly retreat before even falling for his warmth all over again. He feels discouraged and embarrassingly draws back as well, heaving a sigh as both of his hands intertwine in shame.

He knew what was coming and was afraid of it. It wasn't what he was expecting, if he could be in denial of it until his last breath, he will be.

Silence. there was nothing between you, no exchanged words but longing stares, enveloped in silence, and foreseen tension.

"Youn," You call out, but rather than his eyes staying at you, it goes down to his hands. He cannot see you like this. It breaks him how much it breaks you to even open the conversation up. "Youn..." You whine, tears already forming and quickly escaping your eyes in vain.

"Do we really have to talk about this now? Tonight? A special night?" He exasperatingly sighs, frowning and almost scowling at you, yet he still denies any eye contact.

"Would you even have any time for that? When you don't even have time to ask me if I'm okay?" You rebut, voice slightly raising. "I've been having sleepless nights, drowning myself in my own tears and my own thoughts every night you're soundly sleeping, and you don't even ask how I am?"

Exhaustion was evident in your eyes as you begged for an answer. Sobs were already heaving out of you, but it doesn't make him budge.

"Let's..." You sigh out, realizing he's not even putting up a fight. You ease the promise ring out of your finger, setting it gently on the table. "...stop whatever this is, Cho Seungyoun."

When you played around with your finger and got the ring out only did Seungyoun look at you in horror. He thought he could talk you out of this. He was doing all of this for you now, wasn't he? Wasn't he doing enough? Didn't he show you enough?

"I don't see any reason in staying, Seungyoun. If I said I'm sorry for leaving like this... then it wouldn't prove anything I thought and did for you so I'm not going to ask forgiveness at all." You have finally calmed down, but your tears haven't. It was falling continuously like a river, and you were too tired to even wipe it.

God knows how much Seungyoun wanted to wipe it off himself. The last thing he wanted, the thing he'd beat anyone to a pulp if you did- cry, was something he'd take to the grave. It would let him haunt himself through his remaining years because he did that.

How could he even?

"Baby..." He tried, a late cover up for all his shortcomings, finally giving up his ego and trying to reach for your hand. You let him, caressing your hands in desperation. You both cry in anguish, in pain. Like the both of you were set up in torture the next day.

You sob helplessly, letting your head drop to try and catch your breath to no avail.

"Baby please," He calls out, "Hmm?" Trying to convince you with a death grip and a smile, but you shake your head.

"I should go," You stand up, letting his hand fall to the table with a thud. When his hand met the table, he knew it indeed was the end. "I wish you the best, Youn. You've been great, we have been. It just fell short,"

He looks down in shame, letting his hand stay in place where you left it.

Because maybe, maybe you'd come back, right?

You will, right?

But when he realizes that he was waiting for nothing, hours passed and in the middle of his lonely, cold night, he wakes himself up in reality.

He's done you wrong, and you made the right decision leaving. You didn't deserve that, but did he?

He reaches for the envelope and the velvety box in his pocket, staring at it.

A promotion letter and a notice of increased pay, and of course, an engagement ring.

He now had everything he wanted- for him and for you. But at what cost?

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chosonore · 4 years ago

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cynosure

cynosure [noun. one that serves to direct or guide; a center of attraction or attention]

pairing: sukuna/f!reader

summary: in which sukuna re-discovers being human one aspect at a time, through many lifetimes, at the price of losing you over and over.

wordcount: 8.7k

content/warnings: reincarnation au, slow burn but also not really because there's only hints of romance? language, it's not canon at all, just pretend sukuna was never sealed away, lowercase is intended

a/n: this is more self-indulgent tbh sukuna is probably uncharacteristically soft? sometimes i'm reminded of the fact that he used to be human and while we don't exactly know how he became a curse just yet, i kinda felt sad about it lol i'm too sympathetic with everything, it's gonna kill me one day fhuierhfa a lot of these moments are based on my own experiences, where i had to remind myself that even the small things in life are really good and important, especially during the pandemic. that being said, i hope you enjoy and stay safe everyone :) (and please don’t judge me too hard on this lol i haven’t written in like what. six years?)

001.

“oh,” you stared at the tall, pink-haired man in front of you. “i didn’t think anyone would be here around this time…” he stared back at you, not replying nor making any move to scoot over so that you could sit on your bench. it was only then that you noticed the black markings framing his face and adorning his wrists. you were a little dumbfounded - your mother had always said that you had a poor survival instinct. though you supposed that his pink hair eased your nerves a little; surely someone with pink hair couldn’t be as evil. but you couldn’t recall ever seeing someone like this around the proximity of your village. maybe he was a vagrant.

“i don’t mean to be rude but… that’s my bench and i would appreciate if you could maybe… scooch over?” you asked gingerly, not wanting to upset the stranger. you approached him slowly, grasping your basket tightly. if he got a little rowdy, maybe you could just wack him with the basket, right? although it probably won’t hurt but it surely would stun him long enough for you to run.

“i don’t see why i should move just because it’s your bench,” the stranger answered gruffly, crossing his arms. were you naive or just stupid? “do you not know who you’re talking to, woman?”

you cocked your head to the side, not sure what he meant. maybe he was one of those famous poets or musicians that your parents liked to talk about. you weren’t entirely sure. even though he sounded annoyed, the look in his eyes didn’t quite match the hostility - he looked rather bored, unamused even, but not hostile. maybe you could humour him a little. “am- am i supposed to know you? i’ve never been outside of the village so i don’t know much. only what the merchants tell me. i apologize if i’ve offended you,” you explained hastily, then pointing at your basket. “i just came here to enjoy the sunrise. um, today is my birthday, so i treated myself to some dessert!”

“if- if you scooch over a litte, i could share some with you…” you tried to bargain with him. now you were truly starting to sound desperate but this was your favourite spot and it was the first time in a while that you had a free day to relax. out of all days, just why did he have to be here now? you’d be damned if you let your day get ruined by this unfriendly stranger.

“are you trying to bribe me?” the stranger narrowed his eyes at you and you thought this was it. he was going to kill you and bury your body in the forest and your parents would come look for you, only to find your empty basket and then start a huge search party to find you and- the pink haired man moved to the side, refusing to look you in the eyes. “sit.”

you let out a squeak in glee, quickly taking a seat beside him. he watched in silence as you unwrap your desserts, glancing at the objects in question. even though you’d offered to share with him, he didn’t actually expect you to give him some of your food. sukuna was surprised when you handed him a… round squishy thing?

“what is that? how is that going to satiate me?” he asked, almost offended, which made you giggle. you didn’t reply, instead thrusting the mochi towards him until he begrudgingly took it, closely inspecting it in suspicion.

“that’s a daifuku mochi. it’s made out of rice flour and filled with red bean paste. but come to think of it… do you even like sweets? i’m sorry if you don’t particularly enjoy it,” you explained and grabbed one as well. you were about to bite into your mochi when you saw the stranger opening his mouth, ready to devour the entire mochi in one go. in horror, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him, only to have him suddenly pin you down and tower over you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you hastily said, now suddenly aware of the dark, threatening aura that he was emitting. maybe he was a killer after all. “i just didn’t want you to eat it in one go! they’re kind of difficult to eat in one go… plus you’re supposed to savour and enjoy it, take your time eating it!”

sukuna stared at the girl in disbelief, you’d grabbed him out of nowhere just to stop him from eating too fast? not only were you not aware of who he was, you apparently did not know how to be cautious around strangers. it irked him that you were acting like he was a harmless human being. so much so that he briefly contemplated killing you. “who are you to tell me how to eat?” he growled at you, not softening his grip. he saw the panic and fear in your eyes but for some reason, he couldn’t quite put a finger on it, it didn’t fill him with joy as it usually did.

“i’m just telling you how we usually eat mochi!” you harrumphed, now annoyed that he was acting like you just committed murder. “you didn’t know what these were, so i was just trying to explain! food is supposed to be enjoyed, not ravished all at once. you have to appreciate your food because there might be days where you won’t have any. and besides, enjoying and properly tasting your meal is the least you can do to show gratitude to the person who cooked it for you.” sukuna let up and sat back on his previous spot, seemingly accepting your answer. you sat up, adjusting your yukata and pouted at him. what a rude stranger! you at least expected an apology from him but seeing that he was already taking a bite from his mochi, you guessed you should just let it go. it wasn’t worth getting angry over anyways, not on this day.

“why are you looking at me like that, little girl?” sukuna questioned, taking another bite from his mochi. he did actually enjoy it and it took every bone in his body not to hastily eat more and to savour it like you’d told him to. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, it made him think about his meals a little more. not eating for the sake of eating, but for enjoyment, he mused. sort of like living for enjoyment, not for the sake of living.

“you never told me your name,” the girl replied innocently. sukuna sighed. so you really weren’t aware of who he was. “my name is y/n! now it’s only fair if you tell me, especially because i shared my food with you. please?”

before sukuna could reply, he sensed someone quickly approaching. they were hiding somewhere in the forest; it likely was a jujutsu sorcerer, trying to exorcise him. he could deal with them later, but not here, not with you around. the girl looked at him in disappointment when he abruptly stood up, turning towards the forest behind them. unfortunately, he had the inkling that you wouldn’t let it go until he answered: “my name is sukuna, king of curses.” your eyes widened in recognition but you didn’t immediately react or scramble away from him, most likely frozen in fear.

“now go. someone is coming and you do not want to be in the crossfire.”

002.

as a seamstress, you’ve encountered all kinds of customers. ranging from rude and bratty to eternally grateful, you’ve seen it all. your supervisor had always told you to remain calm and polite, to just adhere to their wishes to not cause any ruckus. after all, people of status often assumed that they were untouchable and could treat others poorly. it wasn’t worth the hassle to start a fight with them, you could lose your job after all. there was moments you’d have to stand up for yourself but this wasn’t it. fortunately, your employer paid you well, enough for you to provide for your family. the customers were high-profile after all.

you looked at the clock on the wall, your next customer was supposed to come soon. it was a nobleman that apparently travelled here from far away, having heard that the store offered beautiful, one of a kind fabrics. you just hope that he wasn’t rude and that you could leave in time. you’d been working overtime for weeks now, taking every appointment and customer that you could get. your mother’s birthday was approaching and you’d been saving up to buy some of the soft and silky fabrics to sew her a new yukata. your mother had always sacrificed her own comfort to buy the best items she could afford for your siblings and you and now that you were older, you could finally treat her to something nice as well. your employer was even willing to give you a small discount and you gratefully took up on her offer.

the chime of the doorbell made you look up, the good feeling in your stomach slowly fading when you saw who entered. you were familiar with the customer after all; he was well known in the area, being a rather volatile and sometimes scary aristocrat who had the reputation to be particularly difficult and having outrageous demands. you hastily stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of your clothing and walking over to greet him. you bowed politely, taking the outerwear that he took off and placing it on a nearby armchair. “sir, i’ll bring you a few samples shortly. do you have any colour or pattern preferences?” you asked him, placing a pot of tea and a cup on the small side table for him to enjoy. you made note of his wishes and disappeared in the storage room to pick up the samples. the customer had made himself at home, eyeing you scrutinizingly. he made you queasy, looking so incredibly unfriendly and you could tell that you were not going home early tonight.

you showed each of the fabrics to him, explaining what materials they were made of and what occasions they were good for but with each explanation, he just looks more and more uninterested. not to mention the snarky remarks he made, seemingly not happy of the choices you presented him. you were running out of options and you didn’t know what else to do to please him when suddenly you heard someone enter the shop. both the customer and you looked over confused - you weren’t expecting any more customers today, it was already late after all. a tall, pink-haired man entered the shop, scowling at your customer. you jumped slightly; he looked scary and you were terrified, not sure what to do in this situation. not only were the black markings on his face and body terrifying, there was also a threatening aura surrounding him, dark and slowly spreading out, all your instincts were screaming at you to run. should you politely ask him to leave? he looked like he wouldn’t take it too well. before you could ask him whether he was looking for something, the stranger spoke up: “you know who i am, leave.”

your eyes widened, slowly inching back towards the back of the store. you were not aware of who this man was but by the looks of your pale-faced customer, he surely did. “this is outrageous!” he exclaimed indignantly, jumping out of his seat. “you can’t just burst in here and demand that i leave! i have an appointment! are you aware of how long the waiting list is? this is the finest shop in the entire prefecture and i would rather die than to give up my spot for a scoundrel like you.” the stranger raised his eyebrows at the shorter man, clicking his tongue in annoyance. you slowly reached out to grab your pair of scissors. they probably weren’t of much use but it made you feel more safe, knowing you could at least somehow defend yourself.

“oh? you would rather die? i’m sure that can be arranged,” the stranger threatened and it was with horror that you watched his fingernails, sharp and pointy, grow in size. he wasn’t human, you’d just encountered a monster. he would kill you and it wouldn’t take him much effort to do so, you were sure he could just stab you with those fingernails. your customer squeaked and left the store in panic, slamming the door in the process, while you quickly hid behind the counter. you hoped he would leave you alone, you didn’t want to get involved. this wasn’t your problem, you were innocent and it was an unfortunate coincidence for you to be here.

“stop hiding,” the stranger commanded, slowly approaching the counter. you peeked from below the counter, holding your breath. what else could he possibly want from you? demons surely didn’t need money. oh god, was he going to kidnap you?

he swiftly rounded the corner and knelt down to take a closer look at you - you couldn’t react fast enough, he’d already grabbed your chin and made you look at him, turning your head from side to side as he examined you. his fingernails were slightly digging into your skin, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. “so it is you,” he exclaimed in a low voice, then abruptly standing back up. you were confused - what did he mean by that? at least he didn’t kill you, at least not yet. but what else could he possibly want from you? “i need a new kimono. that scumbag just left anyways, make one for me instead.”

a kimono? a simple kimono? you couldn’t believe what you just heard. this demon just came in here, threw a fit but all he wanted was a simple kimono? you couldn’t help but scoff at the situation though it probably was difficult to enter a store without people fleeing or refusing to serve him. while he did look human, the markings on his face made it difficult not to feel threatened. but why did he know you? you had never seen this man in your life before. not in passing, not on drawings, nowhere. no matter how hard you wracked your brain, you just couldn’t recall. “d- do you have any- any colour preference?” you questioned him, watching how he took a seat and grabbed himself the cup of tea.

“white,” he answered curtly, taking a sip from the tea. “i’ll leave everything else up to you.”

you felt uncomfortable but there was nothing else you could do than follow his orders. you grabbed a few plain white fabric samples and slowly inched over to him, holding them out with your trembling hands. “what?” he deadpanned. you huffed in frustration.

“sir, you should… you should choose the fabric. it’s your kimono after all, you might not like the feeling of the fabric or it might not be a good fit for your everyday life,” you explained.

“i don’t care, just choose whatever. i’m above the comfort you stupid mortals choose.”

“that’s stupid,” the words left your mouth quicker than you could stop yourself and you slapped your hands over your mouth. the stranger looked at you as equally shocked. “i mean- i mean there’s nothing wrong with indulging in comfortable clothes!” you explained quickly, pressing the samples into his hands. “see you wouldn’t like scratchy clothes, right? or fabric that quickly makes you sweat or feel too warm! i always talk to my customers about what kinds of fabrics they would prefer… i believe life is too short to wear ill-fitting clothes or ones that don’t feel comfortable! good clothing should make you feel like… like a warm hug.”

the stranger didn’t look like he understood what you meant, making you scoff again. some people really didn’t care about what they wore and how they looked like and it just bothered you. good quality fabrics and well tailored clothing could make you feel confident and safe, even in the worst situations. how could you possibly relax if your clothing was maybe scratchy or ill-fitting? “i’ll prove it to you!” you exclaimed and left the room to gather your supplies, then coming back to instruct him where and how to stand so you could take his measurements. now that he was towering over you, you were suddenly very aware of how tall and broad he was. you felt like a dwarf next to him. up close, you noticed more details about him. he was attractive, you couldn’t deny that - the long wispy eyelashes, the watchful ruby eyes and his soft-looking pink hair. if he picked up on your staring, he didn’t comment on it.

once you were done taking notes and choosing fabrics, you gave him a slip of paper, noting down time and date for him to come back to pick the kimono up. “as for payment-” you started but the stranger dropped a huge bag of coins on the counter. you gasped, pushing the bag back into his arms. “sir, that’s too much! i’ll calculate the exact price for you but-”

“take it,” he insisted and pushed it back towards you. “i have enough. you need the money right? see it as a generous tip.” your face flushed, you didn’t even know what to say and instead only profusely thanked him. it was so much money, the tip was enough to cover your family’s expenses for a year.

when sukuna picked up his kimono weeks later, he still didn’t understand what a hassle you made about the choice of fabrics and why you were so diligent in taking the measurements. he was fine with everything as long as he had something to wear in the first place. he didn’t care, he wasn’t a measly human that whined about the mildest inconvenience. in the private of his abode, he tried the kimono on, abruptly halting his movements as soon as the fabric touched his skin. so the girl was right, the fabric did feel incredibly good on his skin. it was very smooth and silky, a little cool on his skin. very lightweight but not flimsy. the kimono wasn’t too short and fit his tall statue well, you really did a good job he supposed. he glanced at himself in the mirror. it did look good on him, even the matching colours and patterns were chosen well. you really were a good seamstress, no wonder everyone was flocking to the store.

now that sukuna wore the kimono, he suddenly didn’t want to take it off. it was comfortable and soft, reminding him of you.

003.

your favourite spot was one below a tree, on top of a hill where you could see everything. the small city below, the horizon, the stars in the sky. you often came here when you felt like your life came crashing down your shoulders. it didn’t feel like your own anymore, not with your future already laid out for you without you being able to control it. complaining had always felt redundant and ungrateful to you - you had everything you needed, a loving family, food on the table and your family was wealthy enough to not have to worry about money. but in return, they expected everything from you, their eldest daughter. sometimes, the pressure was too much for you but they expected you to do as they say. everything was well until they announced that you were to get married and they’d found a suitor for you. you couldn’t even protest, the decision had already been made behind your back and you couldn’t refuse. you sniffled quietly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. you didn’t know this man; he might be a complete asshole and not treat you well at all.

the wind was biting at your skin, cold and unrelenting, and yet you felt safe here, away from all your worries. the starry sky made you feel like your worries were miniscule, reminding you that there was so much more out there for you to discover. you’d always liked the sight of stars, they always made you happy. on lucky days, you’d even get to see a few shooting stars. you’d close your eyes and clasp your hands, hopeful that whatever wish you made would come true. the crunch of leaves and twigs made you look up in alarm, scared that your parents had found out you left the estate and now found your secret hiding spot. you couldn’t quite make out the figure in the darkness, only being able to tell that a tall person was approaching you.

you were wary, inching towards the tree behind you to hide but froze when a voice rang out: “i know you’re there. i was looking for you all over the city, little one.” a man clad in a kimono was coming closer, stopping right in front of you and looking at you in disdain. your eyes lit up as you recognized him; you’d met sukuna a couple of times in the city before, mostly when you went to pick up some books to read. he’d been there one time when you were choosing your books and scoffed at your choice. you’d ask him about it, wondering why he thought that your choice was a bad one. he went on and on about how historically inaccurate the book was and that the information about curses was wrong and how an author like that should be ashamed to even publish it. you appreciated the dialogue, you liked having someone to discuss with you. your parents didn’t like that you read fantasy books and books that talked about supernatural events and beings, dubbing them as nonsense and that you should focus on your studies instead.

after your third meeting, sukuna had finally opened up and told you his name. your meetings became more frequent then but you’d never met anywhere other than the bookstore. you were surprised that he even found you here; you decided not to question him though, sukuna always seemed to know where you were, always sensing where you were headed. truthfully, you looked forward to spending time with him. he was attentive and always listened to you, barely ever talking. oddly enough, it made you feel like finally, someone was paying attention to your thoughts and needs. lately, a heavy feeling in your chest was always accompanying you when you met up with him. it was a dull ache, some kind of yearning that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. it didn’t help that you felt like you’d met him before, but you really couldn’t recall where you had met him before. “what are you doing here?” you questioned him, scooting to the side to offer him some space on the picnic blanket.

unceremoniously, he sat down and glanced over to you. he didn’t reply, simply shrugging. “why didn’t you bring a coat?” you asked another question instead, frowning at his choice of clothing. aside from his kimono, he wasn’t wearing anything else. “you’ll catch a cold!” you scolded him, swatting his arm before tugging on his sleeve and signalling him to move closer to you so you could wrap the blanket around his shoulders. you struggled a little to reach him, almost stumbling - sukuna’s arm immediately shot out to hold you so you wouldn’t fall. your cheeks flushed red and you were thankful that it was dark. you cleared your throat and sat back down, snuggling into the blanket and his side.

“by the way, i read that book you disliked the other day,” you told him, rambling about the contents of the book and what you thought of it, all while sukuna simply listened to you. he only spoke up when he challenged your way of thinking or to agree, otherwise staying silent and just watching you.

suddenly you grasped his hand in excitement, pointing at the sky. “oh, oh! look!!” sukuna’s gaze followed the direction you pointed to, spotting some shooting stars flitting across the sky. “you have to wish for something!” you squeezed his hand and nudged him, then squeezing your eyes shut to prepare yourself to wish.

“what would i even wish for?” sukuna frowned and pinched your cheek. “what do you wish for?”

“you’re not supposed to share wishes! if you do, they won’t come true,” you argued back and stuck your tongue out at him. sometimes, he really was too skeptical, never indulging in harmless fun. it might be childish to believe in these things but sometimes that little spark of hope was all you need to wait for better things. you sighed when the shooting stars disappeared and let go of his hand, screaming internally. did you really grab his hand like that? you sure hoped you didn’t unsettle him.

“i don’t think i told you, but my parents have found a suitor for me,” you confided in him quietly, staring at the grass near your feet. “i’m supposed to marry him next year but… i don’t want to, i don’t know this person and i just want to live my life with no one controlling it.”

“i see. there’s still time to get to know him, isn’t there?” you knew sukuna was trying to console you but it wasn’t exactly working. your words frustrated you a little; subconsciously, you’d hoped that he shared the same opinion and maybe, just maybe, help you do something reckless.

“i don’t want to get to know him,” you huffed and crossed your arms (sukuna thought you looked like a petulant child). “i… i already like someone.”

“you do?” sukuna looked at you surprised and that was the first time that he’d shown any other emotion than indifference. you nodded shyly, hoping that maybe he’d get the hint. you weren’t confident just yet to confess to him but maybe he’d get it from your description alone?

“i recently met him and i really like that he makes me feel like, you know, important and always pays attention to me. he doesn’t talk a lot but i think that that’s okay, we still have a silent mutual understanding, i guess. and i also think he looks really handsome! although i-”

sukuna had enough of your rambling, he felt annoyed that you were telling him about your stupid crush. whatever boy you had a crush on, they would never amount to the likes of him. why would you look at someone else when he was right there? right here, with you. sukuna reached over and grabbed your cheeks to make you look at him before pressing his lips on yours. you froze for a short moment before returning the kiss, holding onto his kimono when he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. why would you pay attention to someone else when he could be with you? for the first time in his existence as a curse, he briefly felt human again. maybe shooting stars were the key to wishes coming true after all; in this moment he wouldn’t mind being human again, being alone with her with only the stars as your witnesses.

004.

gradually you were really starting to dislike your night shifts. usually, you’d ask to cover them because it was quiet, there were no nosy customers and the only people that ever came in so late were sleep deprived students that pulled all nighters to write papers or study. well it used to be that way until a group of, presumably, freshmen started coming more and more frequently - they wouldn’t have been so annoying if it wasn’t for them talking and laughing obnoxiously loud. they would stay until late in the night and kept ordering drinks. the audacity to have oddly specific orders, to watch you like a hawk while you were preparing their drinks, it made your blood boil. to top it all off, one of the guys kept flirting with you, even when you’d already made it obvious that you were not interested at all. no matter how uninterested and abrasive you acted, the guy would not leave you alone and his friends would try to act as wingmen. clueless and horrible wingmen.

you were glad that you were never alone during your night shifts, depending on the weekday you’d work in a team of two or threes. whenever they could, they’d cover for you and you were thankful but also felt bad, which usually resulted in you taking over anyways. you placed the basket on the counter, grabbing a towel to dry the cups you’d just washed. the chime of the doorbell made you look up, your heartbeat speeding up at the sight of sukuna coming in. like the group of freshmen, sukuna had recently started to visit the café more and more. he usually only came late at night and he probably was your favourite regular. scratch that, he was your favourite, no one was as calm as him and he never caused trouble. yeah, maybe those night shifts weren’t all that bad, you thought to yourself. you looked forward to him visiting every time you had a night shift.

“hi sukuna,” you greeted him softly and gave him a smile, placing the cup on a shelf. “the usual?” he took a seat near the bar, placing his wallet on the counter and taking off his coat. sukuna was peculiar, not particularly in a bad way. you always thought that he was a little mysterious. he always wore the same kimono - who wears kimonos everyday in this day and age anyways - the same white kimono but maybe he just owned mulitple of them. you could never tell what he was thinking and he had never shown any emotions other than brief moments of bliss when he was having his usual order. his order had always and would probably always be a simple black coffee and some daifuku mochi. it was a weird combo, you mused, but somehow fit him. it was a sharp contrast, just like his tattoos and the soft pink hair. you finished up the order, pushing the cup of coffee and the plated mochi towards him - you’d sneaked another one in just for him, knowing how much he seemed to like them. sukuna looked up at you, ready to protest but you just brushed it off, telling him that it was okay.

out of the corner of your eye you saw your not so secret admirer approaching with an empty cup and you instantly knew you were bound to be annoyed again. you sighed, returning to the cash register to take his order. “so, when am i finally going to get to take you out?” the guy asked, leaning on the counter to get closer to you. you gritted your teeth, ignoring his question and instead took the empty cup, placing it in the kitchen sink behind you.

“oh come on, don’t ignore me, baby,” he whined, not letting up until you answered. you were annoyed, so so annoyed. your co-workers were currently organizing the inventory so you were all by yourself - usually that would be fine but you’d had enough. this week has already been awful and you just wanted to be left alone. you glanced around, spotting sukuna on the side. suddenly a lightbulb went on in your head and you faced your admirer confidently.

“i’m sorry but please stop flirting with me and trying to ask me out,” you started and pointed to sukuna who was innocently taking a bite from his mochi. “i already have a boyfriend and i don’t think he appreciates you cornering me like this. you being this persistent is really annoying, girls don’t like that.”

upon hearing his name, sukuna looked up and as if on cue, he glared at your admirer. “yeah, i suggest you fuck off. get a hint, you creep, she’s mine,” he snarled, making a move towards the other guy who was already scrambling to get away and profusely apologizing. mine, mine, mine. his words kept repeating in your head, your heart squeezing painfully. was he interested in you? would he ever come to see you more than just a barista? you sighed in both relief and affliction, trudging over to sukuna.

“i’m sorry i dragged you into this,” you apologized embarrassed, shoulders drooping and you stared at the floor just so he wouldn’t see your reddened cheeks. “he’s been pestering me so much and i kind of thought that that was the only way to get him to back off.”

“i don’t mind,” sukuna replied curtly, resuming his seat. he didn’t say anything else and you slightly panicked, you wanted to keep talking to him, stay in his company for a little longer.

“ah uhm sukuna, i want to thank you! if… if you don’t mind, i would like to treat you to another drink?” you suggested, your face now beet red. this was the most straightforward you had ever been with a guy, usually too shy to make a move. in distance you could hear the chime of the doorbell and the doors slamming, indicating that the group had left. you were alone. sukuna didn’t reply at first and you were sure you’d fucked up and got ready to backtrack and laugh it off when he nodded.

“go ahead, little one,” he nodded towards the counter. “you choose the drink.”

you didn’t know why sukuna kept calling you little one but for some reason, you didn’t mind. it did however make your heart ache in what you could only describe as melancholy. you weren’t sure why. while you started brewing some green tea for the two of you, the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. the pitter patter of raindrops against the glass front was the only sound audible in the entire café. sukuna hadn’t uttered another word, not even making a sound of acknowledgement when you handed him the cup of tea and sat next to him.

“you didn’t bring an umbrella,” you noted, looking out of the window. it was raining heavily, with no signs of it stopping anytime soon. “i guess you’ll have to stay here for a little longer, otherwise you’ll get sick. i hope you aren’t sick of me though.”

sukuna took a sip of his tea. “i don’t mind your company,” he replied, looking at you. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking but you sincerely hoped he wasn’t joking. hearing that gave you a little hope.

“i like moments like this,” you confessed to him, clutching the warm cup with your sweater paws. “having a warm cup of tea and watching the rain from the comfort of your home. or in this case, a café. the sound of rain is really calming, isn’t it? makes you forget about all your worries for a while, it’s just you and your cup of tea.”

again, sukuna didn’t reply for a while. you thought you’d bored him to death with your monologue until he spoke up: “i don’t see how it’s any different from having a cup at any time of the day.” your cup was placed back on the counter. you frowned, not sure how to explain it to him. in moments like these, sukuna seemed to be something of an old being that has seen everything, feelings now dull and locked away.

“well, see it like this. making yourself a cup of tea or coffee everyday is a normal thing to do, right? it happens almost automatically because it’s just part of your daily routine, you like how it tastes, it makes you feel more awake or helps you sleep. but… but you never really take your time to enjoy it, right?”

sukuna was contemplating, you almost giggled at the little frown on his face. but you were glad that he was willing to listen to you and discuss it with you, instead of dismissing the topic entirely. “but what does that have to do with rain?” he finally asked.

you pointed outside. “you wouldn’t really go out in this weather, right? not if you have any emergencies or urgent matters to attend to. and same goes for everyone else; it kind of… kind of forces you to stay inside, to fully enjoy your warm beverage. the sound of rain is pretty calming, it’s some kind of whitenoise that might block out intrusive thoughts, at least it does that for me. so it’s only you, the sound of rain and your cup of tea. for a few minutes, you can just relax and have a moment for yourself.”

sukuna still didn’t quite understand how humans worked. it’s been hundreds of years since he’s ceased to be human, he’s forgotten what is what like being human. what human emotions entailed. but he agreed, it has been a while since he’s felt at ease and peaceful even. it was a moment of bliss, a moment that caused a flare-up of old, buried feelings inside of him.

004.1

you still hadn’t mustered up the courage to actually ask sukuna out after you dragged him into that fake dating-situation. he did still come late at night, being the most loyal customer of the café at this point. it was almost… almost as if he’d seeked out your company. though he did tell you that he didn’t mind your company; your ego deflated a little. sukuna still wore his kimono but paired it with a thick winter coat - it was winter after all and the weather had been very extreme. the ground was covered in inches of snow and you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. sukuna insisted on walking you home when your shift ended. you weren’t sure why because he’d never offered to do so before. you were thankful though since it was still snowing and the streets were completely empty; even though the snow looked beautiful, it was still a little eerie to walk home in this weather. especially since a lot of busses weren’t running anymore due blocked roads.

“sukuna, aren’t you cold?” you asked as you switched off the lights and fumbled with your keys. finally finding the right one, you closed up, shoving the keys back in your back and fishing out your gloves. “you don’t even wear gloves!” you gasped when you saw his bare hands, handing him one of yours. sukuna looked at you as if you were crazy.

he wasn’t cold but he couldn’t tell you that, couldn’t let you know that he was a curse. but handing him one of you gloves? you were too nice, always thinking of others first and never being selfish. sighing, he put on the glove that was uncomfortably small but he’d endure it for your sake.

“it’s been a while since we’ve had this much snow,” you mused and took a few steps around, giggling at the sound of crunching snow beneath your feet. sukuna simply followed you, looking comical with the bright yellow and tiny glove on his hand. you smiled at him, admiring how etheral he looked underneath the streetlights with the snowflakes flurrying around him and some getting stuck in his hair. your heart suddenly ached, a far away memory emerging. it was blurry and unclear, a cold night similar as this underneath the stars and a face staring at you. you couldn’t tell who it was nor were you sure whether it was just a case of déjà vu.

“you know, this kind of calls for a snowball fight,” you grinned at sukuna mischievously and grabbed some snow, beginning to form it into a ball. he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking at you defiantly.

“i’m not going to indulge in childish business like th-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence as you hurled the snowball at him and giggled like a maniac as it hit his shoulder. you quickly hid behind a bush as you quickly tried to form another, enjoying the dumbfounded look on sukuna’s face. clearly, he didn’t expect you to follow through with your plan and was caught by surprise. “oh you’re on,” he growled after a moment and grabbed himself some snow as well. you quickly threw another snowball at him, this time only being able to hit his leg. eyes widening at the sight of sukuna raising his arm to throw his snowball at you, you let out a squeak and dove behind a tree - the snowball still hit you square on your back, making you yelp at the cold feeling.

for minutes you could only hear the crunches of snow, loud laughter and snowballs hitting objects. you sat on a bench, exhausted from running and ducking away and your belly was starting to hurt from all the laughter. sukuna caught up to you, juggling a snowball in his hands. “you gonna give up?” he asked, a smirk gracing his lips. clearly he was winning, being able to aim a lot better than you. you missed him most of the time but had fun regardless.

“never!” you replied, holding out your arms to defend yourself from the incoming snowball. it never came and instead sukuna was inching closer with an evil look in his eyes. oh no. what was he up to? you yelped when you realized that he was aiming for your neck, jumping up to get away from him. sukuna was quick to react and grabbed your arm, pulling you back into his chest and holding you close, smushing the snow against your neck. “ew sukuna, stop!” you laughed and squirmed in his arms until he threw the snowball away, rubbing your back gently.

“that was really cold, you know,” you pouted, burying your face in his chest.

he wrapped his arms around you, sighing quietly. “i know, i know, sorry.”

you swore that you felt his lips on the crown of your head.

005.

you were, undoubtedly, lost. your phone was about to die and you were stranded in the middle of the city, not sure where to go. to be fair, it was very, very easy to get lost here and it was your first time visiting. your grandparents lived here and while you’ve visited before, you couldn’t quite remember anything anymore. you were a child back then. and the city had drastically changed too, making it difficult for you to navigate yourself around. though your poor sense of direction was probably at fault as well. you sighed, trying to call your grandparents again. no one was picking up. you turned your phone off to save some of the battery, maybe you could call them later.

luckily, you’d brought your cameras so you could at least keep yourself busy until someone freed you from this misery. you walked towards the nearby shrine; there didn’t seem to be any people here, it was very quiet aside from the sound of cicadas. you took a few photos before continuing your journey, soon finding yourself standing on top of the hill. the view from here was breathtaking, even more so because the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in a beautiful yellow and orange hue. you fumbled with your camera again, trying to take a photo when someone suddenly moved into your shot. you paused and looked at the person in front of you who was staring at you as well. considering they were wearing a kimono, you assumed that they must work here. did you make a mistake? maybe you weren’t supposed to take photos and this person came to tell you off.

“i’m sorry!” you said quickly, quickly shoving your camera in your bag. “am i allowed to take photos here?”

the stranger frowned at you, clearing his voice before replying: “how am i supposed to know? i don’t work here.”

you groaned, rubbing your face in embarrassment. of course you’d say something wrong, you always did. and now you probably annoyed him too - he looked really annoyed. but since he wasn’t working here and there was no one else around, you guessed you could take photos after all. there was no one to tell you off anyways. however, the stranger was still standing there, looking at you in what seemed like interest. you felt awkward just continuing your endeavors without acknowledging him, so you asked: “do you live here? i’m just visiting, so i’m not very familiar with the city.”

“you could say that,” the stranger simply replied. when he didn’t say anything else, you decided that it probably was okay if you just continued taking photos without acknowledging him. though it did make you queasy, knowing that he was just watching you. didn’t he have anything else to do? a few minutes passed. he sighed and walked over, pointing at your camera. “what are you doing?” you were surprised at how straightforward he was, not expecting to engage in a conversation with you. maybe people in this city were just extra talkative and you’d have to get used to it. your grandparents never told you about this though.

“ah i’m visiting my grandparents here and i thought i’d document my stay here. so i can look at these photos whenever i want and just have the memories on photo,” you explained and rummaged in your bag to show him the polaroids you took earlier. “i particularly like polaroids because you can’t edit or change them… whatever moment you capture, it’s true to what you saw. there’s no need to make photos beautiful when they hold a special place in your heart and are tied to a specific memory.”

the stranger nodded, pointing to your polaroid camera. “and you take them with this device?” his choice of words startled you a little, he didn’t seem to be familiar with this type of camera which you found odd. everyone knew what these were nowadays, almost everyone owned them. but you didn’t want to judge him or make him feel stupid though, patiently explaining to him how the cameras worked and where he could purchase them. he seemed to be really interested, closely inspecting the camera, turning it around and fumbling with the buttons. only after you finished rambling, you realize how much time had passed - it was almost dark now and your grandparents were probably worried sick. your phone was turned off the entire time and you forgot to call them.

“excuse me, i really need to call my grandparents!” you looked at him apologetically, leaving him with your photos and camera. normally, you would be very wary; normally, you wouldn’t even show anyone your photos, rather keeping them to yourself because they were your precious memories. but something about him resonated with you, he seemed familiar and yet he didn’t.

you found a spot a few meters away from him calling your grandparents and profusely apologizing to them for not calling sooner. you promised them to wait at a popular and well known spot nearby so they could come to pick you up since it was already getting late, then hung up. to your relief, the stranger was still standing there, watching you intently. “thank you,” you smiled as he handed you your belongings. “my grandparents are picking me up soon, thank you for keeping me company. won’t you be going home soon?”

suddenly his face expression turned rather… sad? somewhat melancholic and you feared you’d said something wrong until he shook his head. “i have to go somewhere later. let me walk you for a bit, it is dark after all.” you looked at him a little dumbfounded, not expecting him to suggest something like that.

“oh you don’t have to! i’ll totally be fine, i-” “i want to. let’s go,” he interrupted you, already beginning to move. you hastily followed him, clutching your bag in your hands. the entire walk was rather silent, none of you saying a word. it wasn’t a tense and uncomfortable silence though - you very much enjoyed his presence. it made you feel safe too, even though you’d told him earlier that you didn’t mind walking by yourself, it was comforting to know that he was by your side. you were in an unfamiliar city after all. hell you even got lost, so who were you kidding. you wondered who the stranger was, what his story was, what his personality was like. this was a one time meeting though, so you didn’t really have any hope of meeting him again. that was very unlikely.

“okay this is the spot. my grandparents are going to pick me up here, so it’s okay if you go,” you pointed at a café and gave him a reassuring smile. he didn’t look impressed. “o-oh wait, i need to thank you somehow.” you held a finger up to signal him to wait for a bit and fished out a polaroid you’d taken earlier. it was a simple shot, only the temple, bits of the trees and the sunset in the background. but you thought it was appropriate, the two of you had shared this moment after all.

“here, this is for you. it’s not a lot but i guess… it’s a really nice photo and maybe the start of your collection, if you decide to get a polaroid camera?” he took the photo from you, inspecting it before nodding and thanking you. he looked like he was about to say something else but was interrupted by some bright car lights and the sound of honks.

“ah, i have to go! it was nice meeting you,” you bid farewell to him and waved, running towards the car. sukuna watched your figure retreat, arms dropping to his sides.

006.

it was so cold, so incredibly cold. you really hated disliked these long winters, the sky was constantly dull and grey, the days were short and you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. it made you feel sluggish and unmotivated, you were just hoping that spring was coming earlier this year. you yearned for sunshine and warmth, to be able to go outside without freezing and just spend more time outside. regardless, you held onto your daily walks because they gave you some peace of mind in your hectic life. you were approaching the last year of your studies and the amount of exams, assignments and your looming thesis were just suffocating you. but soon, soon you were done and could finally take a breather, until then, the only moments of relaxation you’d have were your walks.

despite the cold, there were a lot of people near the park; children who were engaging in snowball fights, elderly who were walking their dogs and some joggers too. your eyes were wandering around, watching all the busy people around. too absorbed in your task, you didn’t notice the man in front of you until you bumped into him. you quickly removed your earbuds and apologized to him, about to continue walking when he suddenly grabbed your arm, holding you back. you were confused, did you maybe accidently hurt him when you bumped into him? you looked him up and down to make sure that he was okay; there really wasn’t anything wrong. he let go of your arm. “is something wrong?” you asked concerned and turned to him.

“y/n?”

you froze at the mention of your name. how did he know you?

“who are you? i’ve never met you before.”

in all your past lifetimes, you’d taught him how to be human again, how there was value and joy in even the littlest of things. with each iteration of your existence, sukuna thinks that he’s learned to love you more than the last. when he sees how at ease you are spending time with him, a curse that is feared by everyone, he contemplates confessing to you. but something holds him back, it’s the fear; the fear that you won’t return his feelings. he’s seen you be with someone else, see you fall in love countless of times. he yearns for it to be him, hoping that you do choose him, love him. for thousands of years, he’s spent his time finding you - your reincarnations don’t recognize him and it pains him to get to know you anew each time but nothing pains him as much as his existence. he wants to hold you, be yours, grow old with you.

for the first time in thousands of years, sukuna wishes to be human again.

ps.: i am so sorry if i hurt your heart there omg

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryoumen sukuna x you #sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fic: cynosure #writing

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raibebe · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Spice

Genre: Fluff? Words: 4.390 Warnings: none for this chapter

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | masterlist

A/N: Sugar and Spice is a series now, I know you all probably wanted more smut but I chose to write a prequel about how Jeno ended up being a sugar baby in the first place. Since this is going to be a longer story, I wanted to try to do it in chapters instead of writing one giant thing. Later on I will switch the POV but I felt like it was needed to start off with Jeno’s. Do not worry, there will be smut in later chapters.

Taglist: @yutaalove, @byunniebaekhyunnie

Like all the bad decisions Lee Jeno had made in his life, this one started with none other than Lee Donghyuck. The two boys were sitting in the university’s cafeteria where Donghyuck watched Jeno eat the food they had served with a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t understand how you can even swallow that.” “It’s either this or instant ramen again and I am pretty sure my body consists of 60% ramen already,” Jeno whined, trying to wash down what must be the most dry piece of meat he had ever tasted his entire life with some water. “Dude you work like three jobs,” Donghyuck groaned, kicking his friend beneath the table. “Got fired from the library because they caught me sleeping,” Jeno sighed deeply. “You look like you’re ready to pass out right now.” “Hyuck, I am functioning on three hours of sleep and two redbull.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed and Jeno hated it when he used that tone of voice. He didn’t need Donghyuck’s pity. He could do this. He was fine. Well mostly. Apart from the fact that he got an average amount of four hours of sleep, was barely passing his classes and got fired by one of his many part time jobs every few months his life was absolutely peachy. “I’m sure if you talk to your parents again-“ “No,” he cut Donghyuck off, “I won’t come begging at their door. I chose this path for myself and they simply don’t agree Hyuck.” “Your parents suck ass,” his friend sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Pretty sure my parents would throw a party each day for a week straight if I had told them I wanted to become a vet.” “Well mine aren’t,” Jeno sighed and raked a hand through his messy hair. It was getting too long again, his bangs hanging into his eyes. Could he ask Renjun to cut it again? Did he trust the furious Chinese man with something sharp that close to his eyes?

For a while it was quiet between the two friends while Jeno continued to stuff his face with the cafeteria food. He didn’t have much time before he had to go to his shift at a little record store not far from his dorm building. It wasn’t paying the best but the owner of the shop and no issues with him doing his readings there when no customers were around. “You know that we miss you, Jeno. Right?” Donghyuck cut the silence which made Jeno stop mid bite, “We haven’t done anything with all the boys in forever and I am not counting the times we were at the club while you were working and declining the tips we were trying to give you.” “I don’t need nor want your pity money, Hyuck,” Jeno groaned again and shoved the plate with his food away. His appetite had left him. Donghyuck and him had this conversation every other week always with the same outcome: Donghyuck explaining how he was worried about him and Jeno telling him that he was fine (which he most likely wasn’t but he managed). “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make it to our meets ups, I really am,” Jeno tried to explain and Donghyuck’s eyes immediately went soft, “I just- I’m behind on my tuition again and haven’t paid the lease for the dorms for the last moth yet. I really need to take every minute and hour of overtime I can get and my grades aren’t getting any better either. This will all be for nothing if I fail my anatomy class again.” “Jeno,” Donghyuck tried again, “You can’t keep on like this for another three years.” “I have to Hyuck,” Jeno sighed, slouching back into his chair, “I have to.” His body had been screaming at him to stop whatever he was doing for weeks now and to be completely honest, he was aching for a full eight hours of sleep and not the usual four that were just disconnected naps throughout his day.

“I’m going to make a suggestion and I need you to promise me to not be mad at me, alright,” Donghyuck suddenly said, holding out his pinky finger. “Hyuck, I won’t take money from any of you. I don’t want Chenle to pay for my lease again. That was a one-time thing and I told him that I would pay him back,” Jeno immediately argued, shame running through him. He hated constantly being treated to meals and the thought that he had a debt with his younger friend even though the Chinese had told Jeno hundreds of times that he didn’t need to money back. “That’s not what I wanted to suggest. Now promise.” Jeno rolled his eyes before interlocking his pinky with one of his arguably best friends. “Actually this isn’t my idea. But Jaemin and Renjun brought it up last Friday at our movie night.” That alone made Jeno feel bad again. While his friends had been all cuddled up in Chenle’s apartment to watch some movies and eat popcorn while drinking cheap beer, he had been working in a sweaty club with horrible music that made his ears ring. “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath but Donghyuck didn’t seem to hear him. “But hear me out: Have you ever thought about becoming a sugar baby?” Jeno lost all control over his facial muscles and was pretty sure his brain had just short circuited, his open mouth free real estate for the fruit flies that were all over the cafeteria. “No, no, think about it Jeno,” Donghyuck immediately argued, “I did my research and you can get a monthly allowance for at least a thousand dollar if not more. You’d be able to quit that job at the shady bar.” “Hyuck,” Jeno cut in when his brain had successfully rebooted, “In case you haven’t noticed in all the years we’ve been friends: I’m not gay.” “So what?” “What do you mean so what? I’m not going to prostitute myself for some old man just because I need money,” Jeno hissed between his teeth. “Oh my god Jeno,” Donghyuck sighed, “You’re so 2010. There are plenty of wealthy woman out there looking for some arm candy to pass their time.” “You’re insane Donghyuck.” “Insanely brilliant that is,” his friend grinned, “This is literally the perfect solution for all your problems.” “How is fucking some old hag going to solve any of my problems?” “Oh come on, Jeno,” Donghyuck groaned, “There are plenty of sites that let you choose your preferred partner for this kind of arrangement. And don’t even try to deny that you’re into older girls.” At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. His preference about his partners was basically an open secret in their group of friends that he had confessed after a drunken round of truth or dare some time in highschool when Renjun had asked him why he had rejected the confession of a cute girl a year below them to keep crushing on the substitute teacher they had. Chenle had not let this thing die until Jeno had started to date a girl from Mark’s class and even then the boy had made some cruel comments about their age difference. “Here, Renjun found a site that seems very legit,” Donghyuck brought him back from his memories, scribbling down a link on a piece of paper, “Please just check it out.” “That’s a lot of promises I have to give today,” Jeno mused but took the paper to put it into his pocket. “We’re just trying to look out for you Jeno.” “I know,” he sighed, “And I appreciate that.” “You’re running thin Jeno.” “I know Hyuck!” He said, making his friend flinch at his outburst, “I fucking know, okay. I’m sorry I am making you all worry with how terrible my life currently is. It’s not like I am happy about it but you could really stop bitching about it.” Just when Donghyuck opened his mouth to reply something, Jeno’s eyes shot to the big clock on the wall. “Safe it Hyuck, I need to go to my shift.” With that he got up to hoist his bag that was barely holding together onto his shoulder and basically fled the cafeteria. Donghyuck could bring back his plate, that was the least he could do.

Once outside, the student quickly plugged in his earphones into his phone and played his favorite playlist on his way to the record store, inwardly scolding himself for being so proud and not leeching off of Jaemin’s spotify anymore when what felt like the third ad in ten minutes interrupted his vibing. At the record store, he quickly unlocked the front door and put on a random record to play over the speakers before he got situated behind the counter to try to revise his notes from today that were unreadable at best. He had fallen asleep at least twice in his morning class and had to be shaken awake by one of his classmates once the lecture was over. Great. So self-study it was.

Over the course of his shift, he was only interrupted twice from reading the chapter in the book that he was pretty sure he should have brought back to the library last week. But since he really didn’t have any money to spare for the fine, he had decided to keep it a little longer until he was at a financially better place which was nowhere near in close sight now that he was fired from his job at said library. Which brought him back to what Donghyuck had said to him. But him becoming a sugar baby? Jeno really couldn’t think of himself in such a position. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking but when he thought of the word sugar baby he thought of beautiful and petite boys like Renjun or maybe even Jaemin but him? Even though he had lost quite some muscle mass since this shitshow had begun, he was still built quiet broad and had more of a masculine, handsome feel than sweet and beautiful. And wasn’t that was sugar mommies would look for? If they wanted a man, they wouldn’t search for a someone younger. Jeno sighed loudly and let his head hit his book. This was a hopeless situation.

But he guessed having a look at the site wouldn’t hurt and so Jeno ended up typing in the address of the sugar baby site into the computer at work, praying the owner didn’t know how to check which sites he had opened once he’d delete the browser history. The site itself looked clean, mainly consisting of muted pastel colors and black font and accents. If you weren’t signed in, you didn’t get much information on what exactly was going on but the site claimed that keeping their clients data safe was their main concern since very influential people were using their site. Jeno completely blamed Donghyuck and the two redbulls he had already had for clicking on the pastel blue ‘sign up’ button. He then had to fill out basic data about himself: His gender, age, profession and interests along with his sexual orientation. He hesitated for a second when the site asked if he was okay to be partnered with someone of the same sex for a strictly platonic relationship but denied it in the end. Next he was asked to choose a nickname to chat with potential benefactors as the site called the sugar mommies and daddies. Was this where he should choose something cute to attract people to his profile? Whacking his brain for any cute plays on his actual name, he came up with exactly nothing other than the No-Jam nickname he had earned in highschool which really wasn’t cute at all. The only other thing that came to mind was when Jaemin jokingly called himself Nana and Jeno Nono in that god-awful aegyo voice which never failed to make Jeno cringe. Why did he have to choose a nickname anyways? It was to protect the benefactors; he really didn’t have anything else to lose than his dignity. Sighing, Jeno quickly typed in: ‘Jenonono’ as his nickname, only cringing slightly when choosing a password and entering his email address to confirm everything. Once he had activated his account with the link he was sent, Jeno only had to choose a couple of pictures for his profile to complete it. Well this was a problem. Jeno couldn’t even remember the last time he took a selfie where he wasn’t looking like death on two legs to send them to his friends. He quickly scrolled through his camera roll in search for at least one decently attractive photo. He only stopped scrolling when he found photos from almost a year ago before he had changed his field of study and had the fall-out with his parents. His hair was bleached a bright blonde color and the sides were shaved but he was looking good, more toned than he was now and like he actually slept at night. Not even close to how he was looking right now but it was still him, so did this count as catfishing? He quickly chose two photos with his blonde hair styled up and one with his natural haircolor from before he and Jaemin had the great idea to bleach each other’s hair and send them to himself via mail so he could upload them onto the website.

When Jeno pressed the ‘complete’ button, the site showed him on overview of what his profile would look like and it wasn’t even half bad if he did say so himself. He still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing and the fact that he was basically catfishing people into thinking he still looked so bulky and put together like he had looked last year didn’t help. “Come on Jeno, you have nothing to lose,” he grumbled and pressed the ‘confirm’ button one last time. His profile disappeared and the site instead showed Jeno their actual layout for the matching. Unlike other dating sites, he couldn’t swipe through potential benefactors himself; he had to wait until someone actually message him. Great. So he had to hope that his pictures and his honestly not great profile would lure someone in who was at least mildly attractive. Maybe no one would ever contact him and he could just throw it back into Donghyuck’s face how this had been a shitty idea to begin with. Sighing, he closed the site for now and deleted the browser history just to be safe as well.

The rest of his shift went by in a blur of trying to make sense of his scribbly notes and whatever the authors of the book he was reading were trying to teach him about the anatomy of different species and Jeno didn’t even think twice about the site he had signed up for when he closed down the shop and went home to his shitty dorm. The short trip to the convenience store only made him more aware of how poor he was when he had to choose between an actual meal and food for the cat he had recently (very much illegally) saved from the streets and taken in. He’d be more than damned if the kitten he had named Bongsik would have to suffer, so it would be a delicious meal for her and more instant ramen for Jeno.

Back at his dorm room - a single one that could barely fit his bed, wardrobe and desk - the little cat immediately rubbed its tiny head against his pant leg and Jeno couldn’t help but smile and bend down to pet the little creature. He felt a little bit of tension immediately seep from his tired muscles and indulged the kitten in a little cuddle session until he felt his eyes starting to itch. His allergies be damned! Sighing the boy got up to actually shed his jacket and shoes and opened the fresh can of delicious cat food for Bongsik who immediately devoured it. If she thought it was delicious, would it taste good for Jeno as well? Chuckling he turned back to prepare his own food, all this instant ramen might have started to take a toll on his psyche. He ate his meal in silence before throwing both containers in the trash. Jeno knew he had to work on his essay for one of his classes but for a moment he just felt the need to relax for a bit, especially now that he didn’t have to rush over to his job at the library. Taking out his phone, he quickly replied to the group chat of his friends where they were animatedly planning a trip to the cinema on Friday which Jeno had to decline. Not only did he have a shift at the bar but he also didn’t really have the money for it. Sighing he locked his phone again. Well that went great, now he was stressed again. “Bongsik you love me right?” He asked and turned towards his cat again who was lounging next to him on the floor, her belly full with delicious food. Oh to be a cat...

Jeno sighed again when his cat of course didn’t answer. He really was going insane. But it was going to be worth it, he reminded himself again. Once this was all over he would be a vet and able to help all kinds of animals. He would make good money and could pay off his tuition slowly and maybe a couple of years later he could even have his own medical practice. But to have all that, he really needed to up his grades. Especially this godawful anatomy grade. Groaning Jeno got up from the floor to plop down on his desk and start his laptop that made an awful lot of noise while booting up. Knowing that it took the device a good two minutes give or take to completely be ready, he started to go through his notes again before typing them into the document where he compiled all his notes just to have them all nice and neat in one place.

By some ungodly hour in the morning, Jeno’s eyes started to close more and more often on their own accord and the letters on the screen started to blur together despite wearing his glasses. “We should probably call it a night, Bongsik,” he spoke into the silent room, his cat already fast asleep at the foot of his bed. Fondly smiling at her, he saved his progress on both his notes and his essay and shut down his laptop. Jeno didn’t really dare to look at the time, so he just quickly grabbed his stuff for the bathroom and got himself ready for bed in the vacant bathroom he shared with a couple of other students. But at this time it was almost guaranteed to be empty.

Once back in his dorm, Jeno quickly climbed under the covers and plugged his phone in to make sure his alarm would actually go off in about 4 hours. Even though he was dead tired now that his body was surrounded by the warmth of his bed, a notification caught his attention. Leeching off of the free wifi at the record store, he had downloaded the app that came with the sugar baby site praying it would work on his outdated phone which it luckily did. Maybe the programmers had actually thought about broke students with shitty phones just like him for once. Taking a deep breath, Jeno clicked on the notification that had told him that a potential benefactor wanted to text him. Well that was quick. A lot quicker than he had anticipated. When the app had finally loaded with the shitty wifi he definitely not stole from his dorm neighbor (he had set his password as 1234, he was begging to have it stolen), a profile of a woman showed up. She smiled warmly in the picture she had chosen and it seemed to be taken at some tropical place judging by the palm trees in the background. Jeno quickly skimmed through the rest of her profile that only said that she wasn’t that much older than him. Well she was but not to the extent where she could have been his mother - ew. As her job she just had just listed estate agent. Did that pay well? Jeno didn’t know. His thumb hovered over the pastel button that said ‘accept’. If he would press this, this wasn’t just a ‘I’ll take a look at this app for Donghyuck’s sake’ then he was actually invested. But even if he accepted, he was not entitled to the woman. He could still say no if she turned out to be a creep. Hell, he didn’t even have to meet her ever if he didn’t like chatting with her. Before his courage could leave him, Jeno quickly accepted the offer and a new page opened that looked just like every other messenger.

To: Jenonono You’re up late.

What a weird way to open up a conversation. But it certainly was better than perverted innuendos or a ‘hi’ like Jaemin was continuously whining over whenever he had reinstalled tinder. But what was he supposed to reply? Should he try to act cute and coy? Was that what she would be looking for? But before he could even type anything, she had sent another message.

To: Jenonono You don’t seem like the typical boy you find on here.

What was that supposed to mean?

From: Jenonono I’m not? what are those like then?

To: Jenonono They’re not as handsome as you.

At that Jeno flushed a deep red color. He wasn’t used to such blatant flirting.

To: Jenonono I really like the blonde on you but the darker color is cute as well.

From: Jenonono it’s dark right now

As soon as he hit send, Jeno wanted to hit himself. What was she supposed to answer to that message? God he was such an idiot.

To: Jenonono Cute. Are you nervous?

From: Jenonono I have never done this before and didn’t think someone would message someone like me

To: Jenonono I haven’t been doing this for long either. And what do you mean by ‘someone like me’?

From: Jenonono you said yourself that I’m not the typical boy you would find on here...

To: Jenonono Well occasionally there is a diamond between all the rocks.

Jeno wasn’t sure if this was even an actual saying but it made him feel warm nevertheless.

From: Jenonono you’re pretty forward with your flirting

To: Jenonono Am I making you shy, baby?

As if to prove her point, Jeno almost choked on his own saliva, coughing loudly which ultimately woke up Bongsik who threw him a very much not amused gaze. He hadn’t known that just reading the word baby would have such an effect on him. A voice in the back of his head that sounded a little too much like Donghyuck called him a ‘bottom bitch’. Biting his lip he contemplated whether he should flirt back. Up until now it was fun talking to her. And he still had nothing to lose.

From: Jenonono What if I maybe blushed just the smallest bit?

To: Jenonono You’re so cute. I’m glad I found you. But you should go sleep, baby. It’s late already.

From: Jenonono shouldn’t you be asleep as well then?

To: Jenonono I just came back from a long flight and my bed seems a little lonely.

Was this his chance to get a little flirtatious himself? Was she testing him?

From: Jenonono would you want me there with you? so it’s not as lonely?

To: Jenonono That does sound very tempting, baby boy. Let me take you out for a meal before I take you to bed.

Jeno’s breath caught in his throat for a little before he broke out in little giggles. He had completely forgotten how good it felt to feel wanted between all the stress that his life currently was. Maybe but just maybe Donghyuck had been right and this truly could be the solution for many of his problems.

From: Jenonono is that an invitation?

To: Jenonono How does lunch tomorrow sound like baby? I’ll treat you to something delicious.

Gnawing at his thumb, Jeno read the message over and over. He didn’t even know the woman. Meeting up with her might be a risk. For all he knew she could be a serial killer.

To: Jenonono I know this is sudden. But I want to get to know you better. Face to face. Not just over a stupid text box.

Taking a deep breath, Jeno took all his courage and replied with shaking fingers.

From: Jenonono I have a little break between my last class of the day and before I have to go to my part time job.

To: Jenonono There is a cute little bistro not too far from where I remember the main dorm buildings were. [link attached]

Clicking on the link, a website opened and showed him a French-style bistro that judging by the address was right between his dorm and the record shop. He should be able to do it. Curiously he clicked on the menu and immediately regretted it. The prices were ridiculous. For the price of a simple piece of bread, he could easily feed Bongsik and himself for two days.

From: Jenonono isn’t this a little too much?

To: Jenonono Let me spoil you, baby. Just tell me the time and I’ll make sure that I can be there.

From: Jenonono would around one work for you?

To: Jenonono I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to meeting you. Now sleep tight and have sweet dreams, baby.

From: Jenonono maybe I’ll even dream of you

Screaming into his pillow, Jeno threw his phone away. He couldn’t believe that he just send that. Quickly grabbing his kitten, he pressed his face into her soft fur while she struggled in his hold. “Bongsik I have a date,” he whispered, “An actual date. With a potentially very rich woman. I can’t believe I actually did that.”

#jeno #nct #lee jeno #kafenetwork #neosmutcollective #nct dream #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct fluff #nct smut #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff

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pudding-head-kenma · 4 years ago

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Wear Your Name Proudly [ Konoha x Reader ]

Request: Fluff with Konohaaaaaaaa we all need it(I feel like u probably know who this is now lmao)

A/N: number 1. i’m too stupid to know who this is 👉👈🥺. number 2.... i guess this could be taken as angst?? but there’s cuddling, mutual trust and taking care of a loved one, and i consider that fluff 👉👈

You knock on the door for the third time in the last few minutes. For the first time, you hear ruffling inside, and slow footsteps approach you.

You and your boyfriend had planned to hang out today after his practise was over, since they were – for once – going to leave early, meaning you could use the rest of your free evening to have a date. He hadn’t texted you by the time practise was meant to be over, but you paid no mind to it, instead deciding to head to his house.

After the first knock, you figured he just wasn’t home. It wasn’t unlikely that they would stay just a little bit longer at the gym if they were finishing a practise match, so you decided to take out your phone and call him.

You heard buzzing inside.

Okay, that’s weird... So you knock again. By the second knock, you wonder if perhaps he left his phone at home, so you decide to text Bokuto and ask if they’re going to take long. He seems confused by your text, and lets you know that practise ended a while ago. You ask if perhaps Konoha had decided to practise a little more, and he tells you he went home before everyone else.

Okay, that’s weird.

Now you’re worried. If he’s home, why isn’t he answering the door? Or his phone? Did something bad happen to him, is he hurt?

Your third knock is a little more assertive, and you have your phone on your hand, ready to call someone if he doesn’t reply this time.

But you heard the ruffling and footsteps, and you immediately relax. He’s okay.

Well... him being okay is arguable. He’s alive, anyway.

“Aki?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re barely even sure why you’re calling out for him, unable to think of a single thing to say.

He looks exhausted. His hair is ruffled in every possible direction, and you take note of how his eyes are slightly puffier than usual, his nose a little red. He looks... cold, emotionless. The entire house is dark, all blinds and windows closed even though it’s the middle of the day. At first, you wonder if he’s sick. Maybe he caught a cold and tried to go to practise but ended up overworking himself and decided to come home. However, you can see it in his eyes – he’s just going through a bad time.

There are times Konoha gets like this. Despite being a little sarcastic and even provocative with his team, which gives off the impression that he’s always a little mischievous and seldom sad, he tends to hide his pain away most of the time. This results in him exploding at random times, engulfed and overwhelmed by his own worries. By default, he doesn’t call anyone. He deals with it alone, and he’s back to being himself the next day.

It has been a while since the last time you saw him like this. You faintly remember it being about a particular game they lost that really took a toll on them, and he kept ranting about how Bokuto had gotten into one of his moods at the worst possible time – he’s clearly very frustrated about that particular subject, as you’ve come to learn. He loves the guy to death, but it leaves him anxious to know their ace (not to mention captain) could just break at any time during a game when he’s meant to be the rock of the team.

Immediately recognising his mood, you drop your bag and wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug. He barely moves at all, letting his arms hang by his sides for a few seconds before moving them up hesitantly, wrapping them loosely around your waist. He probably tired himself out crying, and you’re not sure if it’s frustration, anger, or sadness, but it doesn’t matter. You know you need to take care of him today.

The first thing you do is take him to his room. He’s attached to you, but he’s not exactly dead weight. He’s mostly clinging to you desperately, like you’re the only thing currently keeping him together. All things considered, that’s probably not far from the truth, given the current situation. You make sure he lies down on his bed comfortably, pressing a kiss to his forehead in promise of being back soon before heading to the kitchen to brew some tea for him. It helps calm him down to talk over things over a warm beverage, you know that now.

A few minutes later, you’re able to help him sit down just enough for him to take the mug, and he immediately seems to relax from the shift in atmosphere – he doesn’t feel good, you can tell that much, but he seems a little calmer now that he has company.

“I’m sorry.” It pains you that those are the first words to leave him a few moments later – he has nothing to apologise about, and it frustrates you that he would feel the need to.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Aki. I’m here for you, you know that.”

“I ruined our chance to have a date. We probably won’t get any free time for a while.” He has pretty much ignored your reassurance – he doesn’t do it on purpose, he’s just focused on other things, lost in his own head.

You reach forward and gently cup his cheeks, making him lift up his gaze. When he gets into these moods, it’s not rare for him to be looking away, lost in thought while glancing at the floor, zoning out while focusing on a pillow. So you know that you need to snap him out of him from time to time, bring his attention back to you, back to reality.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. We can have more dates in the future, it’s not important. Your well being is more important to me. Right now, and always.” You explain again, this time a little slower, making sure you don’t break eye contact. He needs to hear it, and you need to say it – not because he needs it, but because you mean it.

He freezes for a few seconds, overwhelmed with emotion once again. So used to taking care of his team, it’s likely that he forgets to take care of himself. To have someone else, someone he cares about, do it for him must feel like a dream. He relaxes into your touch, and his eyes close as he takes a sip from the tea, before he’s able to mutter out something again.

“I’m tired of being seen as the weak member of the team.”

This shocks you. You’ve seen their practise multiple times, and not once did you ever think he was the weak member at all. In fact, you can’t think of a single person who would be able to think that; in fact, he’s probably one of the strongest members, even with the whole team being very powerful in general.

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone thinks I’m weak.”

For a second, you think he’s just exaggerating – not that it would invalidate his feelings, but when we’re stressed we tend to think others think badly of us. However, the way he speaks... He talks like it’s something he has come to accept a while ago, not only during this stressful breakdown. It sounds like he has been told that before, and it makes you feel uneasy. Was the team perhaps being unfair to him? You couldn’t imagine such a thing, but...

You don’t have much time to wonder before he speaks up again.

“I don’t know, I think- I thought I was pretty good, but they just don’t agree. I’m tired of that stupid nickname. I get it, I’m not fucking perfect at anything, I’m not a perfect setter like Akaashi nor a perfect spiker like Bokuto, but I’m trying. I’m really, really trying Y/N.”

It clicks.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. Through the years, the team had given him a nickname – you can’t remember exactly, but it’s something along the lines of ‘Jack of all trades, master of none’. Like that popular saying. You believe it happened overtime, as he consistently showed his ability to take on any position just fine, even subbing in for Akaashi once when the time called for it. You know the team doesn’t mean any harm, but you never thought about how much it affects Konoha himself.

“I get that I can’t be the best at any of the positions, and I get that it’s ridiculous. I can’t just be a very good setter, a very good spiker, a very good libero, I can’t be a very good anything. I’m just average in all of the options. But why do they have to keep reminding me of that? I get it, I set the ball when Akaashi couldn’t reach today, but why do they need to remind me that it doesn’t work for me?” He’s getting more agitated as he speaks, likely as he recalls the events of today’s practise. You stay quiet, allowing him to vent, to let go of what’s bothering him.

“ ‘Ah, Jack strikes again!’ I’m sick of it. Why do they have to word it like that? I get it, I’m going out of my way, and I’m not even that good at what I do originally, but just- why? Why do you have to keep telling me that?” He seems to be done talking. He brings his hands up to his hair, roughly tugging at it before covering his face, the tea long forgotten on the table next to him.

You understand. You never thought about it before, but you definitely understand. So, setting your tea down as well, you gently shove his shoulder. He’s pliant under your touch, trusting, expecting you to know how to help him, believing you can help him. You lie him down again and climb on the bed behind him, attaching yourself to his back immediately. He relaxes, melting into the warmth you bring, and his breath starts getting regular again.

“I think you’re misunderstanding. It’s not an insult at all, Aki.” He tenses up, but doesn’t speak. He’s willing to listen, even if he’s already objecting and formulating other possibilities in his head, other ways it has been used as an insult. You don’t give him the time to go into detail, speaking up once more in a gentle voice.

“Granted, it’s a nickname that bothers you, and that’s something worth bringing up with them. However, I’m sure everyone means it in the most flattering way possible. You know that saying continues, right?” That seems to peak his interest, because he’s shoving you away gently, only enough for him to turn around and face you. True to his name, any cuddling position works just fine for him, but he does have a preference for the ones he can see you.

You bring him in closer, allowing him to rest his head on your chest. You’re taking care of him today, and you want to show it through actions just as much as words.

“Jack of all trades, master of none, but oftentimes better than master of one. That’s how the saying goes. It’s a compliment. You’re a generalist more than a specialist, meaning you’re better at resolving issues than someone who’s very good in a specific department. You’re versatile and able to think on the spot, instead of being stuck to your element.”

He seems to tense up a little at that as well, but this time it’s different. It’s not a pained tensing up, not a worried or anxious one, but more of a realisation. He realises that it could be interpreted like that as well, and fears he might have let his insecurities get the better of him. His grip around you tightens, and you wrap your arms even harder around him, a quiet promise that you’re protecting him.

“Do you know why you have such a good team, with such amazing specialist players? Because you’re there. If you’re there, they can focus on getting better and better on their own position, knowing they always have you. You always have everyone’s backs, Aki. You have Bokuto’s back when he’s being blocked, you have Akaashi’s back when he had to touch the ball first during a receive, and you have everyone’s back when Bokuto goes crazy and they need to depend on you to score. It’s because they have such an amazing generalist on their team that they can focus on being specialists. You’re their most important player. You keep the team together.”

By now, you can tell he’s crying. You don’t think you’ve really said all that much, but it must be very important for him to hear this. He has likely been doubting himself for quite some time, so it must be reassuring to be praised. It must be hard; Konoha is extremely into volleyball, and sometimes he gets really competitive. If he thought that nickname was used as an insult to tell him he wasn’t as good as the others on the team who excel at what they do, it must have really hurt him. You wish he had brought this up with you sooner.

No other words are exchanged between the two of you about the topic; you keep him close to you, gently combing through his hair in hopes of calming down his sobs, which now have gotten louder. He’s letting them pour out, and it’s for the best – his frustrations, his shame, his anger, they’re all pouring out with them, being instead replaced by confidence, understanding, and pride. He should wear the nickname proudly, because that’s the only way his team would ever mean it. He knows it, of course, knows they would never insult him in such a way, but sometimes he can get too much into his own head.

That’s where you come in. Your gentle touches and kind words are a silent promise of help, of compromise to him, to always be with him and help him through this. In the same way he helps you through your own issues.

At the end of the day, you two have each other, and will always have each other.

So you remain quiet, basking in each other’s presence, lucky to be together. Lucky to be able to count on one another, thankful for the time you’re allowed to spend by the other’s side, grateful for the wonderful memories you’re able to create.

And another day goes by, and you both end up sleeping the problems away.

When Konoha shows up confident the next day, now laughing along at the mentions of the nickname, nobody seems to notice.

But as you sit and watch them practise, you know. He has changed again, grown to accept himself even a little more, and you were there to see it.

And you sit there, hoping you’ll get to see it again.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #konoha #konoha fluff #konoha akinori #akinori fluff #konoha x reader #konoha x you #akinori x you #akinori x reader #fukurodani #konoha angst #hehe couldnt resist sorry

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rwbyconversations · 6 years ago

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Rooster Teeth Glassdoor Crunch/Overtime Accusations #AnimatorsFirst

EDIT: Georden Whitman, former creator of Nomad of Nowhere, has come out and publicly confirmed the Glassdoor reviews are true.

Original story:

Rooster Teeth’s Glassdoor reviews have recently made serious allegations against the company, with people who work for the company claiming that the company engages in practices involving heavy crunch periods, a resistance to providing benefits, eighty hour work weeks, a management team trying to justify crunch and unpaid overtime that, according to some, led to as much as a third of RWBY and gen;LOCK’s recent seasons being made effectively for free.

Below are screencaps and exact quotes from the pages. Any emphasis made is done by me.

From May 23rd this year, as written by an employee with three years experience at RT:

Cons

Program scheduling department has no idea how to time budget for animation, has resulted in unnecessary, preventable crunch Company takes on projects that are too big for it to manage effectively Not the highest pay compared to Anim Guild standards Open office space, gets noisy

Advice to Management

Management has been using a weird method to try and deescalate hard feelings about crunch. They’re acting like counselors who are “there to talk” and to try and find “coping mechanisms” to deal with crunch. This is a terrible idea considering that none of them are trained counselors as far as I’m aware, but more-so, they’re obviously going to be biased in favor of what they want from us. It makes me want to communicate with them even less. This past review, my manager criticized me for having “negative energy” during a terrible crunch period where we were working over 80 hrs s week, and told me I should “look for the silver lining” which is just bad advice. Advice to management is to stop pretending you know anything about mental health and also be less passive - fight harder for your team.

From May 13th, an employee with a year’s experience at Rooster Teeth:

Cons

The management is terrible. Artists are lead on with the promises of "full time employment and benefits" dangled in front of them without ever being addressed and ultimately are never given, there is no paid overtime, artists had to fight for their right to time off between productions, and good luck getting any form of benefits despite them being plastered on the wall.

Advice to Management

You're not a group of guys playing halo in your apartment anymore. Please run your business and look at what's happened to it.

From June 11th this year, from an employee who has been working at the company for five years:

Cons

- Extremely poor management (Some of it is negligence, some of it is just accidental from the sheer amount of work. Upper management is also extreme bro/friends club.) - Insanely high expectations (animate a 10-14 min episode in 2 weeks) - Very low compensation (I've worked here for years and make entry pay. Some people have gone MULTIPLE years with no raise) - No overtime pay (Every season of RWBY and GL gets about 1/3 or less made for 'free' because no one gets paid over time and it's not uncommon to work hundreds of hours of overtime) - Toxic work environment (there are a lot of cliques, complaining and even making fun of other people and depts here. It never gets punished so it always happens. Not professional) - You know something is going right when after many complaints HR reminds everyone you have "unlimited" mental health doctor appointments... I could honestly go on and on like an emo on Myspace in 2007 but I'll reign it in. I'll leave it at this since I've seen many fans read these and be skeptical. It's not great. You can deny it but there is a lot of evidence if you just accept it. And the reason you work here is cus you get stuck and are promised "It'll get better". The work is low quality (hard to get jobs elsewhere), pay is low (can't save money) and life/work balance is a joke. We have a bit of balance now but it's only for a couple months out of the year when production isn't in full swing. Then it's back in the meat grinder.

Advice to Management

You NEED to listen to the workers and make hard decisions and actually fight for better conditions. It's been far far too long of "it'll get better" or "we know what to do next year". This isn't sustainable and I think we all know it. But someone has to be the guy to say "no" when things aren't good enough. If you don’t say no, hundreds of people suffer. Please.

From May 18th:

Cons

Crunch has gotten to an unacceptable level. Productions have been completed with over half of total hours unpaid overtime, especially impacting the comp and editing department. Management cares more about their ego than the quality of the work they put out— letting the crunch caused by their irresponsible decisions fall solely on the shoulders of the artists while they enjoy a forty hour work week. Pay is laughable compared with the amount of mandated, unpaid hours of labor. No career advancement, and contract workers are given empty promises of full time employment before being shown the door once production is done.

Advice to Management

Stop saying the crunch issue is “getting better” or that you’re “working on it”, and start actually owning up to your mistakes.

From May 19th:

Cons

-A lot of employees brought on, if not all, before the last development cycle were promised permanent positions after a 90 day trial period. As those dates approached those artists saw no change, asking their leads what was going on. The guidance from higher ups was vague at best, and some felt like they had been forced to lie to employees during the interview process. - A lot of processes went over-scope due to poor planning. -Lack of actual production experience in the management side of things is no longer something that can be glossed over as the company tries to take on more industry vetted employees. -Crunch is extreme and overtime is not compensated for, nor is that time given back in any fair amount.

Advice to Management

-Clear and concise communication -Re-structure your upper level management

From May 12th:

Cons

Crunch here is out of control. No Paid OT. Expect to work A LOT for free. 70-80 hour work weeks. Mandatory 10-12 hour work days sometimes with no days off. Management is more interested in telling you what you want the hear as opposed to the truth.

Advice to Management

Fix the crunch issue and stop saying 'we're working on it'.... because you're not. Layoffs are certain. Will layoff bad employees and good employees in the same breath, completely eliminating any reason to work as hard as you're required to do. Fix your transparency issue and stop overworking your employees otherwise your reputation will severely suffer.

From April 5th:

Cons

-No paid overtime. -Crunch is a major problem in the animation department due to unrealistic deadlines, poor planning, and indecisiveness. (Mandatory 10 to 12 hour days for multiple months are common.) -Stress levels are often very high due to harsh deadlines -Some of the producers tend to lie. -Promotions are used as a morale booster, not actual career advancement. -Hardly any time for Professional Development -Professionalism can be a bit scarce (for example people would draw penises on the boards throughout the studio)

Advice to Management

-Management needs to seriously figure out how to deal with the crunch issue. A question was asked at an all hands meeting: "How are you going to handle crunch this year?" Instead of giving a clear answer, the head of the RT animation department completely dodged the question. If you don't know how you are going to tackle a problem, try saying, "I don't know. I will get back with you ASAP." Then actually pursue a solution to the problem. Dodging questions makes you look shady and untrustworthy. -Improve production plans and make sure you have enough resources to complete your projects. If you are going to work on two shows at the same time, then you need to double ALL of your teams along the pipeline, not just one. If you can barely get one project done with your current resources, you certainly cannot finish two. If you can't get the resources needed to complete the projects, then it's probably best to keep them small or to simply not do them at all. Pushing your teams beyond the breaking point is not the wisest decision. If you continue with your overambitious ways, it will backfire in the long run. Telltale Games' closure and Bioware's Anthem debacle are examples of what's to come if you do not improve your production practices and get crunch under control. -Get more training on how to manage people. There are plenty of programs out there that can help management understand how to work with various types of personalities. There were some situations where I noticed that some leads and producers simply did not know how to talk to a person when there was a problem. Despite all of the criticism I just wrote, I feel the majority of who work at Rooster Teeth Productions are decent people. However, the management is just terrible. Put some of that ambition you have into fixing your problems internally instead of putting it into meeting those unrealistic deadlines.

From March 25th:

Cons

- Massive amounts of unpaid overtime. All while touting the importance to the company of a life/work balance. They promise to give you the time back, but it will be impossible to take. - Management is just a joke. They can’t schedule or stay on track to save their lives. Total amateur hour. - Zero followthrough on promises made. How about a pizza party? - Pay much lower than standard. Don’t expect real raises. Promotions with increased responsibilities don’t come with comparable pay bumps. - Most promises of advancement and opportunities are hollow wishful thinking. - Almost zero followthrough with meaningful investment in employee education. You can access a Udemy account and that’s about it. - Management will blame the artists instead of taking responsibility and will even through people under the bus to cover themselves. - Internet celebs are more valuable than artists. - Their awards are called “cockbite of the month/year” and it’s what they call their employees. You may not want to be called that but that’s too bad. It’s their culture. A few guys draw penises everywhere to be funny. - Not very much diversity in management. Feels like you need to be a straight white male to be appreciated.

Advice to Management

Hire some actual seasoned industry professionals to upper management in Animation. And demonstrate there are some consequences for them, instead of taking it out on employees.

From April 11th:

Cons

-Overtime, and hours will cause any person to slowly become something they don't like. -Management is typically made up of "talent" and treats other employees poorly, not to mention 0 years of previous managerial experience. -Management also blames other employees for the problems they create, and don't show actual leadership. -Echo chambers within management. -Stress levels incredibly high -Lack of professionalism

Advice to Management

-Get rid of "talent" in managerial roles, it's clear they're costing the company serious problems and money. The ones who end up being hurt are the employees who knew and constantly warned about problems ahead of time that were ignored. If the company stays the same a huge incident is bound to follow. -Try to respect creatives that aren't "talent" within the company as well. It's clear management doesn't and goes against the entirety of the company's "core values." those who have had previous industry experience should be listened to and considered instead of being shrugged off and given responses like "Well that's just how we do things." -Collaboration doesnt seem to exist for a majority of managment here. If this one massive change happens the company could really grow far and do much more than create crude content with a lack of care/heart for the final product. -If people are able to sleep and have a normal schedule more thoughtful input will also happen, and your content can only get better. -A multitude of people and lives have been hurt from management at this company, from in house employees being mentally abused to freelancers that are ghosted. So many immature and poor practices have taken place within the animation department I'm amazed a lawsuit has yet to happen. -Management should be leaders not bosses.

It’s almost darkly funny that most of the positives are just “They give you free food on Mondays and the people are nice.”

But these are all from just the last year alone. Most reviews from before the start of 2019 don’t speak of crunch barring one from April 2018, one from March 2018 and one from June. This is a problem that has been affecting Rooster Teeth for at least an entire year, and since the start of the new year, the problem has magnified tenfold. Most reviews mention that the heads of departments are aware of the crunch and unpaid overtime but refuse to do anything about it beyond offering platitudes or dodging the question on what the company is going to actually do to fix the crunch problem.

Crunch is a problem plaguing many companies, especially in the western hemisphere. In gaming development there’s a story nearly every month about what apathetic upper management think they can get away with by forcing employees to spend dozens of hours every week slaving away on their product. I hoped that Rooster Teeth would not be one of these companies, but I am saddened to see that they were not.

Crunch’s negative effects on mental and physical health have been well documented, alongside the basic fact that crunch isn’t worth it and doesn’t work. Employees forced to crunch are unable to work as well as employees who are well rested and have time to go home to their families.

To anyone working these impossible crunch hours at Rooster Teeth right now, I hope your suffering ends soon, that eventually basic human empathy wins out and hours are lessened while you receive your just rewards for your work.

For @roosterteeth? This is appalling and a slap in the face to the fanbase you conned into thinking that you were a company that cared for everyone within as a huge family. Your entire management team should be ashamed of the environment you signed off on. No profit margin is worth the suffering you have subjected your crew to. Shame on you.

As a fan of RWBY, it disgusts me that a product I enjoy was made through blood, sweat and tears. And as a fan of RWBY, I wish to make a public call to the fanbase, be it on Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter or Youtube. I want to make a public statement to Rooster Teeth that we are willing to wait longer for new shows if it means that they are made ethically. I can’t in good conscience support a product if it was made by putting the workers through hell. Maybe I can’t change anything on my own, maybe ultimately we’ll just be ignored, but I refuse to stand by and stay silent on the matter, maybe even get Rooster Teeth to make changes in their workflow (I won’t say “I hope they respond” because they seem to respond in-house to complaints about crunch without ever actually changing anything)

I encourage you to share this around as much as you can. Share the accounts of the Glassdoor reviews as far and as wide as you can. We love and enjoy media, we love the people who make it- the animators, editors, writers and voice actors, and we as a community want them to not have to resort to RT’s seemingly unlimited mental health coverage or “find a coping mechanism to deal with crunch.” As much as it pains me to admit, I’d rather see RWBY die instead of seeing continue to be made on the back of crunch.

Thank you for reading. Again, I encourage you to share this around as much as you can. Let your voice be heard if you stand against this.

#rwby #Rooster Teeth #Genlock #crunch #overtime #glassdoor #georden whitman #nomad of nowhere

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dregstrash · 4 years ago

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Knife in the Back (ch.5)

A/N: I know I’ve been a tad MIA, but I did not forget about this incredible fic that I did with @wafflesandkruge

AO3 Link

Inej gathered her files again, hating how thin they were. For what seemed to have been such a messy killing, there was very little they actually recovered at the scene. The killer had been meticulous, almost every clue seemingly a red herring or meant to confound.

A glance at the clock told her it was nearly five.The morning shift– Nina– would be coming in soon. She stifled a yawn and continued straightening her desk. She’d run home and try to catch a few hours of sleep before returning in the afternoon. Surely they wouldn’t mind, she’d clocked more overtime this week than most people did in a month. She shoved the pertinent files into her bag and made a grab for her car keys, but they were snatched up by Matthias. She tilted her head up and gave him a questioning look. He looked troubled.

“I’ll drive,” he insisted, his voice a low rumble. “You look ready to drop.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How will you get back to your place?”

“I’ll take the bus.” His tone left no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to her place was silent, as the moments between them usually were. Inej snuck glances at him, trying to guess what he was thinking. He didn’t know about her past, the one Kaz had hinted about back at the station. Was he angry Kaz knew more than him? Or that she was clearly hiding something big from him?

But it wasn’t as if Matthias was an open book either. He’d transferred to Ketterdam two years ago after quitting from the force a few states over. Zoya hated his guts for some reason, and Nikolai tended to ignore him. And he had some kind of shared history with Nina, Zoya’s assistant. She’d done plenty of digging into his background, but there were too many sealed records and dead ends for her to find anything worthwhile. Matthias Helvar’s past remained a mystery and she was fine with that as long as hers could too.

The car rolled to a stop outside her apartment building. Matthias switched off the engine, but didn’t move. His fingers tapped his thigh nervously. “Inej…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“What Brekker was saying…” he hesitated, clearly not sure how to phrase whatever was on his mind.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the case,” she said sharply. “And it won’t affect how I treat him. If he’s guilty, I’ll arrest him.”

“I don’t doubt that. But if there’s anything you need to tell me…” His pale eyes stared into hers.

“No. There isn’t.” She held his gaze for a moment longer before holding out a hand. He handed over her car keys without another word and got out of the car. Inej followed, locking the car behind her.

The sun was just starting to come up, its rays brushing the sides of her shabby building with gold. The neighborhood was alright by Ketterdam standards. She could afford to move into a better place now, but her apartment was comfortable and she was capable of taking care of herself. Her more unsavory neighbors knew not to bother her.

She thought Matthias was going to say something else, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye before jogging to the bus station a few blocks away.

When Inej returned to the station a few hours later, Matthias was nowhere to be found, but there was a hot cup of coffee left on her desk. Her lips curled as she saw the familiar crow emblazoned on the side of the cup. Brekker’s Brews. Had Matthias gone without her to interview the employees again?

Her question was answered when Nina swept by her, leaving the scent of fresh pastries and roses in her wake. Her friend was carrying a box of donuts from Brekker’s Brews and she promptly set them down in the break room. Inej followed, her stomach growling. She hadn’t had time for breakfast.

“You should stop visiting that cafe,” Inej scolded half-heartedly as she snatched a donut from the box. The rest of their co-workers started drifting in, lured by the promise of sugar. “The owner’s a hit man.”

“A rumored hit man,” Nina corrected, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. She took a seat at the table and pulled her chair closer to Inej. “Besides, if there’s anyone you should warn, it’s Wylan. He goes almost every day just so he can chat up that barista...Jesper?”

Wylan froze, his hand halfway to a pink-frosted donut. “I do not,” he insisted. Inej just took another bite of her donut, noting the redness in his cheeks. She liked Jesper well enough despite his association with Brekker. She still hadn’t quite managed to figure out if he was involved in Brekker’s less legitimate business, a fact that irked her to no end.

“Ooo, donuts!” a new voice exclaimed from the door. Inej looked up to find Nikolai Lantsov, the captain of the precinct, making a beeline for the pastries.

Despite his youthful appearance and mannerisms, he was well known around the country for cracking several notorious cases in the last decade. Zoya Nazyalensky, the precinct’s lieutenant, trailed in behind him with a roll of her eyes.

“All of you get paid to solve crimes, not eat overpriced pastries from a criminal’s business front,” she scoffed. At her arrival, the break room became a sudden flurry of activity as everyone muttered their excuses and cleared out. Everyone, whether they admitted it or not, was more than a little scared of Zoya.

According to one rumor, she’d been with the FBI before quitting and moving to the precinct after meeting Nikolai during a federal investigation. Yet another rumor she’d heard was that Zoya was a former Ravkan assassin. Which was absolutely ridiculous. She hoped.

Inej lingered behind, waiting until everyone other than the captain and lieutenant were gone before shutting the door softly. Nikolai was sitting on the table and trying to get Zoya to take a bite of his donut. She didn’t miss how their hands were interlaced, or the soft curve of Zoya’s smile despite her harsh words. Their relationship was the worst kept secret of the precinct.

Zoya noticed her first. “Something wrong, Ghafa?”

“It’s the Brekker case. Something’s not right about it.”

“He claims Rollins is behind everything, right?” Nikolai asked as he dusted off his fingers. “The gang leader we haven’t been able to put away?”

“Yes,” Inej confirmed with a frown. She leaned against the wall, trying to recall Kaz’s exact words. “He said...the Razorgulls were shacking up with the Dime Lions. That we weren’t seeing the bigger picture.”

Zoya frowned. “Brekker is full of shit. But that would explain the rise in gang activity we’ve been seeing near the Barrel.”

Nikolai’s face had gone serious. “Rollins is dangerous. There’s a reason he’s still free, and that’s because he covers his tracks well. If he thinks you’re on to him-”

“I’ll be fine,” Inej interrupted, a bit annoyed. She didn’t need to hear this warning again. From her boss, no less. Zoya shot her a warning glare.

“Alright,” Nikolai said with a worried look. “It’s worth investigating if you believe Brekker. If you need more resources, let us know.”

“Will do, captain.”

“And make sure you keep tabs on Brekker too. It would be great if we could finally throw that little gutter rat in jail along with Rollins,” Zoya ordered. With a toss of her hair, she left the room. Nikolai followed her after giving Inej an apologetic shrug.

Inej sat in the room a bit after they’d left, contemplating Zoya’s last words. It was true she’d dedicated much of her career to trying to catch Brekker, but it seemed for the second time ever, their goals were aligned.

She’d arrived in Ketterdam not as a detective, nor an immigrant, but a victim. Snatched from her family in Ravka, she’d been transported to Ketterdam as part of a human trafficking ring. She still had the scars to remember her time by- two bracelets around her wrists where handcuffs had been left on too tightly for too long and a long scar up her forearm where she tried to disfigure the peacock feather tattoo they’d branded her with.

And when she couldn’t bear being an object any longer, she sought out someone rumored to help any problem go away for the right price. And that’s when she’d met Kaz for the first time

Sighing, she stood up and began to make her way to Wylan’s lab. Hopefully, he’d have more evidence for her or this whole day would be a bust.

The precinct was unusually empty today, with most of the detectives out at scenes or on vacation. Matthias was still a no-show, which was strange for him. He usually called Inej at least a week in advance for absences of any sort. Just as she found herself missing his silent but reassuring presence, there was the sound of pounding footsteps behind her.

“There’s been another body,” Matthias shouted, not slowing his pace. Inej broke out in a run, trying to match his longer strides.

“Where,” she demanded as they turned the corner and exited into the parking lot. Matthias’ ancient, but reliable, convertible was waiting for them. Inej vaulted over the passenger door as Matthias struggled to open his with the keys.

“By the docks,” he said, his voice unusually tight. Inej realized why a second later. Nina lived by the docks, in a shabby apartment that Matthias was always bugging her about fitting with better security.

“Nina’s fine,” Inej said in an attempt to reassure him. “I just saw her inside.” He didn’t say a thing, just started the car and tore out of the parking lot.

The scene was the same as the one from the last morning. A body. Two gunshots. And all evidence pointing towards Kaz Brekker.

Inej dropped the corner of the tarp she was holding and stood up, done with her cursory examination. Wylan rushed by, snapping photos at every possible angle. Matthias was a few feet away talking to a uniformed officer. She took the moment to step back for a bit and think.

Two bodies in two days was an escalation if she’d ever seen one. Even if the real perpetrator was trying to frame Kaz, they were doing a shoddy job of it. Kaz’s kills were always spaced out, never more than one every few months. Or at least the ones she discovered. This time, there was a rag dotted with blood that Inej was sure would match Kaz’s once Wylan finished running his tests.

She caught a crime scene investigator who was rushing by. “Do we have an ID yet?”

“Mila Jansen. Twenty-five, a student at the local university. That’s all we have for now. We can forward her address to you in a few.”

Inej nodded, distracted. Wylan was waving her over frantically, mouthing something she couldn’t make out. She dismissed the investigator and made her way over to him.

“What is it?”

“Well,” he started, fidgeting a bit. “I think Kaz was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean,” she snapped impatiently.

“The body, while dumped this morning, was killed sometime last night. Between midnight and two in the morning. And Kaz was-”

“With me,” she breathed, the gears in her head turning. “I have to go. Tell Matthias I’m going after Brekker.”

#knife in the back #six of crows #KANEJ #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #Kaz Brekker #inej ghafa

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mandy23bwrites · 5 years ago

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“What’s Cookin’ Good Lookin’?”

@olderguysandcutiepies Surprise! Happy birthday! It’s late but it’s still the 23rd so it counts ;) I love you lots and I hope you’ve had an amazing day!

This is prompt #23 from @hellsdemonictrinity‘s Angst/fluff prompt list

This fic was inspired by the beautiful cookie decorating done by (@)the.graceful.baker on Instagram

Fandom: Bloodline (Netflix)

Character/Pairing: Danny Rayburn x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Gender neutral reader, nonbinary secondary character (OC)

Disclaimer: I have only watched most of the first season of Bloodline so this is based on that and discussion I’ve read and had.

Word Count: 1330

Summary: One of the pros of working with your boyfriend is teasing him all day. One of the cons is him teasing you all day.

Readable on AO3

Your keys jingle as you open the back door of your bakery, the sunshine entering into the cool kitchen with you.

Your business partner, Jordan, looks up from where they’re shaping bread loaves and smiles when they see you step inside. You exchange greetings as you tuck your bag into one of the staff lockers and they bring you up to speed on the day's happenings. The morning rush had ended and the shop was in its usual afternoon lull. And although you liked the occasional adrenaline rush of a busy shift, it was quiet hours like these where you excelled.

As Jordan disappears into the cooler with the now covered loaves, you poke your head out of the kitchen door to check on the shop. Sitting at the counter was one of your cashiers, a college student, with a textbook open in front of her, taking advantage of the quiet to do one of her readings.

Only three tables are occupied: a businesswoman on her laptop, a couple reading silently in the corner, and a study group made up of what looked like high schoolers. Amongst them is your boyfriend, wiping down the empty tables. As he moves on to the next one, he catches you looking and smirks, giving you a small wave. You roll your eyes but smile and wave back.

Content they don’t need any help, you duck back into the kitchen and make your way over to where Jordan’s standing at the main counter. They glance at your approach and hold up a hand as if to ward you off.

“Before you come to scold me about working overtime, I’m almost done cleaning; then I’m gone.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Smartass. I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you actually paid yourself overtime”

“Yeah, yeah, okay mom.” They grin at you as they finish tucking ingredients back onto their respective shelves.

“Get out of here before I ground you.” They snicker before stepping into your shared office and you shake your head, pulling out the tub of powdered sugar and bottle of vanilla extract.

You give Jordan a goodbye hug before heading to the cooler, grabbing a couple of eggs and the container of sugar cookies you had made the day before.

Decorating cookies was your favorite thing to do. It was calming, repeating the same couple of designs over and over, but having to concentrate to make sure the design was consistent. You loved coming up with new patterns, and for this spring week, you decided rain clouds, rainbows, and suns were a fitting trio.

You start with the clouds first, grabbing some food coloring and decorating sugar, and set about whipping up some light gray and blue icing.

Pouring the icing into piping bags, you find some music to listen to on your phone and take a deep breath before launching into your work. You pipe the clouds big and fluffy, then quickly cover them with the clear sugar crystals. As the icing sets, you go to the previous cookie and add a multitude of raindrops; then you repeat.

You’re so focused that you don’t realize you’re halfway done with the clouds - so focused in fact that you also don’t hear the footsteps behind you until there’s a pair of hands on your waist and a voice in your ear.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” You gasp, and in your shock, squeeze the piping bag too hard, making a rain puddle rather than a raindrop. You know that voice, all too well.

“Daniel Rayburn!” You can’t help but yell (hoping the patrons in the shop don’t hear your outburst beyond the closed kitchen door) as the man in question makes a quick getaway, giggling. You look around and lunge to grab a fistful of powdered sugar to chuck in his direction. It floats down onto him like a mist, making him laugh even harder. He’s put the island counter in between you two and his laughter has dissolved into a coughing fit, but even then he can’t wipe the grin off his face.

You stand with your arms crossed, scowling at him as he recovers, still smiling.

“Danny, you ruined that cookie!”

“Ah ah ah, I believe you ruined that cookie. I just helped.”

“One of these days you’re going to make me ruin someone’s order and then you’ll be in big trouble.” He snorts in response.

“Give me a little more credit than that; I know the best times to sneak up on you.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmmm. But I’m not going to tell you - then you’d know my secrets.” You shake your head as he begins to make his way back around the counter towards you. You uncross your arms and reach out to dust the powdered sugar from his face once he gets close enough.

“Tryina sweeten me up?” Now it’s your turn to snort as you ruffle the powder from his hair and brush off his shirt until he’s clean. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer as you quirk an eyebrow.

“This isn’t very professional behavior, Mr. Rayburn.”

“Nor is throwing sugar at your employee.”

“Okay, you got me there.” You lean in and give him a quick kiss. There was a mutual understanding that at work you would behave professionally. After hours were free reign but the bakery was off-limits. Although the occasional kiss would sneak its way in. “That was a terrible line, by the way.” He grins.

“I don’t know… as a chef, I thought it was pretty good!”

“We’re not in your kitchen, chef, we’re in mine. And I say it was bad.”

“One day you’ll see that cooking is superior and you’ll leave this baking nonsense behind,” he teases.

“Ha! You’re not very convincing given that you’re working in my bakery.”

“I’m a Trojan horse, here to take you out from the inside.”

“So dating me is part of this grand scheme of yours?” That earns you a sheepish grin.

“The enemy is very charming…” You dissolve into laughter and he quickly follows. Taking his face in your hands, you press a long kiss to his lips.

“Alright troublemaker, if distracting me is also part of your plan, you’re doing a good job. Come over here and help me.” You pull away and return to where you were working, piping a couple of lines onto the ruined cookie, relieved to find that the royal icing hasn’t hardened and is still workable. You break the cookie in two and hand him half as he pulls over a stool to sit next to you.

Putting him in charge of adding the decorating sugar, you quickly fall back into an easy rhythm. You turn off your music and talk, asking how each other’s day has been. As you move onto the next design, you work together like a well-oiled machine, with him making you new batches of icing or putting away the finished cookies. When he doesn’t have something to do, he sits down next to you and watches you with a childlike fascination.

As much as he loves to tease about your dynamic as a chef and baker, you know full well he supports what you do. And considering he doesn’t receive that same support from his family, you’re grateful.

You pause after finishing a rainbow and turn to him: “You know I love you, right?” He looks taken aback by the sudden proclamation and can only nod. “Good,” you say with a smile. It takes him a moment to recover but he does.

“I love you too.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, marveling at his blush. Turning back to your cookies, you vow to make sure he never forgets how much he means to you. And as the evening goes on and you close up the shop, you part ways only to drive home in your separate vehicles, determined to spend the rest of the evening reminding him.

#danny rayburn #danny rayburn x reader #bloodline #bloodline netflix #netflix bloodline

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tardis--dreams · 2 months ago

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Wow this really was terrible. I think I'll stay in university as compared to work it seems actually quite nice (:

#this is exactly what i wanted from this dumb job decision btw #i wanted it to be a counterpart to university so that i could distract myself from university with work and vice versa #like 'ah i hate my job. guess uni isn't so bad' and 'fuck i hate university i prefer working' are great mindsets to even each other out #let's be real i hate both #and i don't think I'll ever be satisfied with anything i do #so it's not like i have the option between something i like and something i don't like #it's always gonna be a choice between two or more evils and i just have to find the one thing #that i hate the least #but also i have to accept that there's parts of everything that I'll hate at least as much as university #if not more #and today was certainly a day that sucked so bad it made university seem almost attractive #but i know i'll hate every second of the rest of my degree no matter how bad work is #whatever #I'll quit working for today #I have 10 hours of overtime this week #overtime i do Not get paid for nor can i even it out with free time officially #(inofficially however i will be working a lot less the next few weeks. like at least 2-3 hours less per week until #I've gotten back to zero overtime)#there still needs to be done so much on monday but i think my brain already quit a few hours ago #anyway I'll go read a book now (an actual work of fiction. for fun. a new little challenge for myself ♡)#(i also ordered a bunch of books i wanna read. most of them from japanese and korean authors so if i like the korean ones #I'll get the original(s) and have some fun with practicing korean hehe)#void screams

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theateared · 5 years ago

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I Don’t Give a Damn. ❜

Summary: Edgar has always put his family first. Notes: Past-life Edgar, lots of lore and (fictional) political commentary, all dialogue in Hural.

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

Scritch, scritch, scritch. Edgar heaved a sigh of relief as he finished the last of his paperwork, signature a welcome scrawl as he stared at the stack on his desk.

Thank Raku. I felt like I was going to go insane at any second.

Huron had always been behind on the technological side of things. While a lot of districts had printers and computers to lessen their workload, huros were stuck writing all of their important documents by hand. Those that were of the utmost importance were laminated or tucked immediately into envelopes in order to protect them from damage, but there wasn’t much in the way of speeding up the process of production. There was even a sizeable job-market for people to write these things in bulk, paid by the hour to produce copy after copy by hand. All in all, Edgar was glad that that wasn’t his job. It would have been a miserable existence.

He stood up, limbs cracking as he stretched, before he proceeded to his boss’ office. After a ginger knock and a steely, “Come in.”, Edgar made his way inside.

“I finished the last of the campaign,” he said, putting the stack down in front of him. He watched as the man leaned forward, flipping through the pages quickly before patting it closed once more. Though he would read it thoroughly later, he had come to trust his employee’s quality of work.

“It would appear you have. Good job.” He watched as Edgar nodded, turning around to leave. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you. Would you take a seat?”

Internally, Edgar vented his frustrations. I’m not even supposed to be here today. I’m not even getting overtime pay. Do you really need any more of my time? Nevertheless, he obeyed, sitting down before him. The last thing he wanted to do was piss Laurence off.

“You’ve been making some good headway with the campaign lately. The High Court is particularly impressed. They deem you eloquent.” He shifted Edgar’s work aside, dipping into the drawer beside him before retrieving his own stack of papers. It was stapled together with a large metal clip, though it was nowhere near as thick as what he had just been offered. Laurence steepled his hands, chin leaned on them as he stared at his employee. “They’ve requested your help personally.”

Edgar didn’t know what to make of the words. He was a quiet man, kept to himself and never really caused trouble. There was an emotional distance in him that wouldn’t be described as typical by most. There was no reason he could think of as to why the High Court would have any interest in him at all.

“What with?” he asked. Despite Laurence being his superior, Edgar didn’t seem at all intimidated by him. He’d noticed it from the day that this man had started to work with him. You don’t smile. You don’t laugh. You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. But you’re efficient, and smart-- so smart. It’s horrifying. If you weren’t a model employee, I would have gotten rid of you forever ago because you creep me out.

“I’m sure you know about the growing public unrest,” Laurence began, attempting to gauge the other man’s reaction. There was none save for a brief nod. “People are beginning to discuss the possibility of strikes and riots because they’re ‘not being paid fairly’. What is your opinion on that?”

“I have no opinion on that,” Edgar lied. “Really? It concerns you too. You have no sympathy for your fellow workers?”

“I have no sympathies of any description.” He didn’t flinch under his boss’ hardened gaze, though he did feel inclined to elaborate. “With all due respect, sir, it is not in my best interest to discuss political affairs openly with somebody who has the power to take my job away from me.”

Laurence’s frustration was mounting. Why do you never say what you’re truly feeling? Why do you never give me anything? Though, he had to commend the wise nature of what he’d been told. He hummed, shuffling through his papers.

“They’ve asked for you to write them a public notice of desistance,” he continued, trying to move the conversation along. “They only require you to compose the first copy. Then they will have a labour force duplicate as many as is needed. If you agree, they have enclosed a list of points that they wish for you to include. Your pay will come from the High Court directly. It’s an expensive task.”

“How expensive?”

“They’ve offered to waive any future payments on your house,” he replied, observing him keenly. He was desperate to know where Edgar’s hubris laid. Does your sin have to do with material lust? Do you want nice things for nothing? “It would be yours. No need for a mortgage. The only continued payments would be for your essentials. Water. Electricity. But to live there? Free. For life. They consider that a fair payment in exchange for the avoidance of violent protests.”

The gears in the man’s head were beginning to turn. He didn’t find it difficult to stay on top of his bills. He didn’t expect to have a house for nothing. He also didn’t want excess properties tied to his name just because he was able to own them… but owning the house would be good for his family. His wife and son would always have a definitive place in Huron, and without the stress of having to maintain it.

But why would you offer me such a ridiculous liberty in exchange for one letter?

He knew why. He knew it was because they anticipated some backlash. To get an average worker like him to silence an entire struggling demographic would take more than just a lump sum. Despite his previous statements, he did feel some sympathy for these people. He himself was in a similar boat. He detested the fact that his boss had been granted the power to call him in whenever he felt like, and he wasn’t even legally obliged to compensate him for it.

You would laugh at these people - because you’re not part of them. You’re not struggling. You’re not being monopolised. You don’t feel the pay cuts, because you get none.

“Alright,” he said. He didn’t like to say it, but he knew that any outright refusal could result in the loss of everything he had worked so hard to get. “When do they want it?”

“If you agree to it now, you have twenty-four hours to compose a rough draft, then a further twenty-four to properly compose it.”

Edgar went quiet. Then he shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

Laurence stared, a smile threatening to spill onto his face. Are you insane? “Why not?”

“It’s my son’s birthday tomorrow,” he replied. “I’ve told you this. I’ve also told you I’m not working that day because of it.”

“You work when I say you work,” he retorted. He expected malice in return; a fierce declaration of freedom that he didn’t actually possess, but all he received was a dull stare.

“I’m not putting in hours when it’s Gusty’s day.” “He’ll have a lot of birthdays. He won’t have a lot of houses for life.”

“He’s young. It matters now.” Despite his calm approach, Edgar was beginning to get annoyed. This man was so obtuse-- so obsessed with money and maintaining his position as the top dog that he failed to see anything else as important. It wasn’t as if he himself didn’t have any vices, but would he neglect his son in return for some hush money? Absolutely not. “No. I won’t do it.”

“Don’t be foolish, Edgar,” Laurence remarked. His smile had long since faded. The pleasant businessman front melted into something threatening, something bent on his damnation. “The High Court is being extremely generous, and you’re about to throw it all away because you can’t spare a couple of hours to write a single letter? You’re not being a good father because you’re not considering the long-term.”

“Don’t you tell me what kind of father I am.”

They were both surprised. Edgar had not once talked back to him. He wasn’t a suck-up, or a boot-licker, or a pet of any sort-- he was just passive. He wanted nothing to do with the drama that surrounded the office, and he wanted no inclusion in personal endeavours. He didn’t hunger for praise from his superiors, nor did he crave acceptance from his peers. He just was.

“Watch your tone,” Laurence growled with a sneer, leaning over the desk in an attempt to invade his employee’s space. “You’re a runt. Got it? You do what you’re told. That’s what you’re here for. I tell you to write a report, you write a fuckin’ report.”

“I’ve done so much for free already,” he argued.

“I don’t give a damn!” Laurence exclaimed with a laugh. “I don’t care about your kid’s birthday, and I don’t care about your marriage, and I don’t care about your cushy little house in the centre of Huron. I care about money. I care about my employees doing their jobs.” He leaned back in his seat, swaying idly from side to side. Spitefully: “You’re in tomorrow. Whether you accept this job or not. If you don’t, I’ll have you do something else.”

Edgar sat there, somewhat stunned. He couldn’t believe the audacity of this man. He’d been part of a lot of different corporations-- had always worked hard and put his best foot forward, desperate to make a comfortable living for his wife and child. His happiness had always come second because it was a byproduct of spending time with the people he loved. Seeing them happy was his source of happiness.

“Can we… talk about this?” he asked, voice smaller than before. “I j--” “No. I suspect you’d probably want paying for it.”

The words rattled around in his head for a while until they laid motionless in the centre of his subconscious. His boss had made it alarmingly clear that he was nothing but a pair of hands to him. A curious thing happened inside of him then; something was burning. It wasn’t often that his emotions surfaced. He had them, he just didn’t care to let them guide him. However, in that moment, all he could feel was sheer, unadulterated scorn.

He stood up, hands slamming onto the desk. He was satisfied as Laurence jumped. “You’re part of the problem.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re part of the reason that Huron is messed up. You’re a money-hungry, possession-thirsty thief that wrings his employees dry of all their assets and treats them like machines. You may not care about my family, but I do. All of us care about our respective households. You should at least understand that much, but you don’t, because you’re braindead. You’re a fool. And of course you side with the corruption of the High Court - because it benefits you. I get nothing out of this.”

Laurence stared in disbelief before his face twisted into a picture of rage. He stood up from his chair, eager to tower over his inferior. “Who do you think you are, some kind of hero?”

“I’m just like them,” he snapped back. “You want my opinion on politics? Fine. I side with the people. People like you are the reason that workers are considering rioting. You don’t pay people fairly. You pull people into the office without any prior notice, and without any extra pay, and you expect them to put their lives on hold for the sake of your desperation for a few extra quers. As if you don’t have enough money in your pocket already. And then what? You stand there like a moron, confused as to why people are so upset, because you yourself don’t know what it’s like to be treated like garbage.” He reached out, snatching the contract from the desk. It was rolled up in his hands like a sacred scroll, then flung into the trash basket beside them. “Why don’t you write it? Just to get you doing some actual fucking work for once?”

I have to get away from this man. I feel an intense need to reach over and choke him with his tie.

He stepped away then, smoothing a hand down his waistcoat. The office was still and silent, jam-packed with bitter fury. After clearing his throat, he said in his usual monotone: “So. I won’t be coming into work tomorrow.”

The door was approached, though an obnoxious clatter had him turning his head. Laurence had swept some of his belongings onto the floor in an outraged fit. A finger was jabbed in his direction, his face growing red with how angry he was.

“You go through that fucking door, you’re not coming back, Edgar.”

He considered it briefly, then retrieved his work ID from his pocket and tossed it into the same bin that the contract sat in. It sailed the distance smoothly, landing in it with a triumphant tink.

“Good day.” “EDGAR--” “Suck a railroad spike.”

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

Brielle knew that something was amiss with her husband as soon as he walked through the door. Though he greeted her with his usual kiss on the cheek, going straight to the kitchen to catch Augustus before bed, there was something strange about his face. His usual deadpan was accompanied by a rare glint of frustration, though he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. She waited until he’d had time to cool off ( spending time with their son always seemed to do the trick ) before approaching him in the kitchen long after sundown. He was busying himself with meaningless chores-- drying already dry dishes left on the rack was a favourite of his, as well as wiping down tables that were already clean-- when she leaned against the doorframe, tone patient but playful.

“So. Are you gonna talk or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”

“Drag what out?” he muttered ruefully, picking up the dishes and beginning to file them into the cupboard. He hadn’t yet decided how he was going to approach the topic with her. He couldn’t keep it a secret forever, and part of him felt guilty for leaving it this long already. After careful consideration, all dishes cast neatly aside, he curled his hands around the lip of counter, leaning against it with his head hung. Quietly: “... I lost my job.”

He could hear her fumbling for words, stopping and starting several times before she finally uttered a small: “What? How…? You were going so far in that place.” She filled the space between them, her hand on his back. The warmth of it seeped through his shirt, had his normally lukewarm innards feeling some semblance of heat. “Eddie, I’m sorry…”

The man inhaled slowly, then released it as a deep sigh before turning around to face her. “My boss was a bastard,” he admitted. “I… accidentally lied to you. I wasn’t getting extra money for those shifts. Of course, I didn’t find out until it was too late. He used me.”

She hugged him tightly, her head on his shoulder. “Don’t take the blame for that. You can’t stop somebody from being a scumbag. You were just doing your job.” In all his years working, her husband had lost a total of two jobs including this one, and one was lost on the basis of the company itself going bankrupt. Everybody was let go of, because there was no site to return to. “... what happened?”

“He asked me to work tomorrow,” he replied. “And the initial job he asked me to do involved writing on behalf of the High Court. I agreed at first--”

“You agreed?” she demanded, pulling her head back. After careful consideration, she smacked his chest. “Why would you agree?! You know they’re doing bad things to workers right now, you were suffering too!”

He sighed. “You can’t afford to have personal feelings about politics in the field, El. Higher-ups look for any excuse at all to fire somebody nowadays. They’re getting paranoid, think their workers are turning on them, and it’s because they are. Of course I didn’t want to do it but I also have a family to feed.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “They said they’d give us the house, El. No more mortgage. No more excess bills. It’d be ours. All in exchange for one letter. I could always join the protests at a later date, drive that anonymous notice into the mud. I wanted to-- I just didn’t want to mess things up for you and Augustus.”

“... ours…?” Her eyes were round with wonder, as much as she hated that fact. To be able to own a house… it was a dream come true. She was a stay-at-home mother by choice. She and Edgar had talked themselves in circles when first deciding to have a child together. Though she’d initially been working in the fields, she’d decided that she didn’t want to do it any longer-- not if she was supposed to be carrying a baby. Edgar had agreed, taking responsibility for the bills while she focused on giving their child the best life possible. She hadn’t had much to give up in the way of work anyway. Edgar’s career had been going somewhere from the start. He went from selling vegetables in markets and writing humble requests to the High Court for a place for a stall to being personally requested by corporations. He was a businessman through and through, and the more closely he worked with people, the more coveted he became. His latest venture had been on the political spectrum. A ghost-writer for speeches. Managing public relations for favourable, change-driven politicians that people were looking to tear down for being different. Material for party campaigns. Now the High Court were the ones writing to him.

“... but I couldn’t do it. Because it had to be written tomorrow. And I wouldn’t sacrifice Gusty’s special day for anything. Nothing is worth that. Not even a free house.” Her face was receptive-- always had been-- and the love she felt for him was plain as day as she stared up at him with a look of mystified adoration. “He gave me an ultimatum in the end. If I walked through that door, I wasn’t coming back. I chose to walk through it. It was damn near the only choice I ever got in that place.”

She couldn’t help it; she laughed. Her tiptoes were stood on, arms coiling around his neck as she gave in to the urge to kiss him. He responded warmly, arms tight around her as he brought her body closer. I don’t get to hold you nearly as much as I’d like.

“Screw that place…” she whispered against his lips. He nodded hurriedly in agreement, keen to return to her. They stood in their kitchen like that for a while, gentle but eager. He tasted more free than he had in a long time, a poignant sense of relief staining every shallow breath he took.

They don’t own you any longer. You’ve been allowed to come back home.

With his heart beating faster, Edgar pulled back enough to speak to her. “So. I’ll be home tomorrow. If it wasn’t clear.” Her quiet giggle made him smile, eyes closing as she pressed herself closer once more. When she’d pulled away, he continued: “We’ll have a good day… you, Gusty and me. We’ll be a family. And when the weekend passes, I’ll look for a new job and I’ll get one, a good one, and I won’t let them drag me in all the time like this one did. They have no right.”

A low croon was released as she scratched gently at the base of his horns, her own coiling around the tips lovingly.

“Okay…” she murmured, nuzzling her nose against his before tugging him to her once more. “It’s been too long, Eddie…”

Before he knew it, their positions had switched, her body sandwiched between the kitchen counter and his own, hands heated and hungry. Yes, he thought as he felt her fingers begin to undo the buttons on his shirt, a giddy warmth sparking in his gut. It has.

#🞮 — if i could i'd trade my heart for a second brain. ❜ ( edgar. )#☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. )#☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. )#drabble *#/ hOH BO Y IM W E AK

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thesagedahlia · 5 years ago

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💘Drake & Imaan Hammam💘

So, before I start, when i first heard of this relationship....I laughed my ass off. My exact words were 'Okay, Drake. Another secret slipped through the cracks'. From jump, this felt like a publicity stunt, but something about it seemed iffy; as if something about it wasn't planned. But getting into the reading, it clicked a little bit; it didn't seem like this connection was supposed to get out. The cards began to suggest that this was only supposed to stay a secret affair, & ironically, it wasn't until AFTER they were caught together (or Drake was caught leaving her place, rather) that they came out to be pictured together. That right there had me thinking 🤔 did this come out on purpose, or was this affair supposed to be secret? Because if you notice (unless it would be later down the line), they NEVER OFFICIALLY came out with a VERBAL confirmation of their relationship. Like, they went out & got officially PICTURED together, but not only did we not see much of them after that (like say, Valentine's Day; the day when ALL the shordies of SOMEBODY got a public display), they don't seem to be giving each other public shout outs or attention. But I digress; this could be a private relationship that we won't see much of. That may even be boo'd up a lot behind the scenes....or ARE they?

**DISCLAIMER**

I am not declaring, nor am I insinuating, that anything I say in my predictions are true accounts of any of the parties involved. This reading is for entertainment purposes only, & should only taken as such. All in good fun, folks 🤷🏾‍♀️🧿

💘Energy surrounding the relationship💘

Unshockingly enough, Drake pursued Imaan, however I'm getting that this was an affair that wasn't supposed to get out. This feels like a relationship that's only for the benefits, & they seem both financially & sexually. It also seems like they took the energy from getting caught together & ran with it. I'm also getting that she is not the only woman in Drake's life, in fact it feels like a clique. Drake didn't really want this out in the open, but he's going along with it; though he's made it very clear to Imaan that he wasn't interested in committing, he isn't open to it privately. With time, this relationship won't last very long. I did keep picking up on a separate woman that wants to come out & blow their whole secret out bit she's being paid silence. Outside of that, they seem to have fun together, exclusively, but with taking it seriously. Drake is the type to get his nut & bounce, but this is the case with this one. Drake does feel uncomfortable about this being out there, & he is controlling the outcome of the situation. He's making sure his 'escapades' don't get out as easily (because he be busy). If we were to speak on compatibility, there isn't much there. If anything, I'm seeing this end in heartbreak or pain on behalf of Imaan, which could either be from wanting something more with him, or run ins with the 'competition'. It may come to a point where Imaan may get attached more than Drake, & that may prompt Drake to cut her off. Imaan is very hip; she knows what the relationship guidelines are between her & Drake, she's aware that he is emotionally unavailable, nor invested, & she's well aware of the 'competition'. There is also a possibility of her standing her ground in one way or another, which may cause Drake to walk away, cold turkey.

💘Is this relationship for LOVE or PUBLICITY💘

This is a situation that was never supposed to go public, but now that it's public it may cause traction & attention to them, so they're going with it. So I'd say yes; issa STUNT. It even feels like Drake tried to keep this from. I feel like keeping up appearances will begin to burden & pressure him. Actually, he may try to be more lowkey, either personally or publicly, in fact we may not even see them out & around together as much. There may only be the 'stigma' that they're 'dating', but I don't think there will ever be any verbal confirmation from either party.

💘What are Drake's feelings for Imaan💘

I feel like he is familiar with her, or she may be a friend of his. The thing is, Drake is a rolling stone in a lot of women's life, including hers. He's especially charming to Imaan because he may be wanting to keep her around, possibly putting out some gifts while he's at it. But when this became public, he felt he would go along with the rumors that followed. He figures he can have his cake & eat it too, as he feels free to do what he wants because he's securing Imaan's bag, but this also feels like manipulation in an attempt to not make a enemy out of her.

💘What are Imaan's feelings for Drake💘

She is feeling more so trapped & burdened by the situation, & it is mostly because it is bringing her financial stability, rather than a healthy relationship. I do believe she has feelings for Drake, who is emotionally cold toward her. She is fond of him, but she hides it from the most part because she knows he isn't in the mindset of a for a serious relationship. She's possibly going along with this for the bag, & she may hope things can go further. She doesn't like the controlling nature that she sees from him, & she feels as though he is selfish. This may cause her to turn cold toward him. She doesn't seem she'll be happy with Drake for the long run, & she doesn't appreciate his back & forth energy; he would stop speaking to her for days at a time, then pop up. She may feel like she was being used. I feel she is a sincere person with genuine feelings for Drake, or will develop them overtime, but he is giving to too many women & he isn't consistent with her.

💘Final Outcome of the relationship💘

It feels like she will want to express how she truly feels, but it will come with conflict. There may also be some more conflict from another party, aside from Drake. This may prompt Drake to cut the relationship off. I don't see the relationship getting much public attention, I think it will continue to be a stigma without verbal confirmation. Imaan may continue to be hurt as long as Drake continues to be reluctant to open up to her emotionally. He is going to continue manipulating this situation to keep control over it & its outcome. When Imaan's feelings get deeper, & she feels she doesn't want to be controlled anymore, she will begin to reject his advances. It's hard to say who will severe the connection first because they will both be thinking about it by this time. This ending will be divinely guided & done strategically & quietly.

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comfy-whumpee · 5 years ago

Text

Lost

[Set during Return. @whumptober2019 alt prompt no.6.]

Statement given, injuries treated, and a number to call with any more information. The process was efficient and clinical and maybe a little terse, because Jim had never liked the police.

But he liked being alone even less.

He went to bed, and the tears came. Huge, horrible sobs that tore him on their way out, making himself cry harder at the sounds he was making, the overwhelming, choking despair. He pressed his face into the pillow Ty had used and wondered how long it would be, this time, before he saw his beloved again.

Eventually he cried himself out. He slept, in uneasy fits of exhaustion. Every time he woke, he remembered. The bed was vast and empty.

When he woke up properly, it was because of his alarm. He swiped blearily at his phone until it was silenced.

He was meant to go to work.

No. He had to. He'd lost so much time last month with being sick, and having to look after Ty. They needed money, badly. Any what was the alternative? Lying in bed all day waiting for something to happen, when nothing would.

He got dressed mechanically, feeling like his whole body had been transplanted and he was only now learning how to use it. His fingers were huge and clumsy. He was barely capable of tying his shoes and the sheer difficulty of the routine brought tears to his eyes.

He decided not to drive, not trusting himself behind the wheel. He sat on the bus feeling like a shell of a person, hoping nobody noticed.

It was only once he was outside that he realised one of his ears was still ringing, muffling sound. That felt right. The gauze on his face wasn't enough. He didn't want to be healthy and whole without his Ty.

He was on the early shift, which was a relief. Things were quieter on a Wednesday lunch. He could get through the day and go home knowing he was coping.

He avoided eyes as he entered, giving nods. Sensing his mood, nobody asked about the black eye and the covered mark. The manager said, "You alright?" and Jim nodded. That was all there needed to be, and he was grateful. Tears threatened again, he was /so grateful. But no, he had to keep going. He could do this. Eight hours to go.

Six hours to go, and it had been hard, but Jim was coping. Things had been peaceful, with just the right amount of work to keep everyone focused, allowing him to escape proper socialising. He wasn't close enough with any of his colleagues to have told them about Ty. The manager knew his partner was disabled, but that was it.

So he would stay in the moment, concentrate on the smells and flavours of the kitchen, the heat and the activity, and he would survive.

Halfway there, he told himself. It didn't matter that tears hit his eyes every time he thought too hard, every time someone said something nice to him, it didn't matter that his eyes stung as the heat of the pan dried his tears before they could come down. Head chef had no sympathy, in the zone as the lunch rush began, and Jim shouldn't take any moment to think when he could be working.

Was this how Ty had survived?

No, no, focus. Caramelised onions, hissing oil, the bell for service. He couldn't remember if he had added the spices, which was ridiculous. Of course he had. Hadn't he?

Focus, he berated himself again. Ty was going through worse things right now. Four hours to go.

At three hours and ten minutes, Jim dropped a tray and burned his hand. The clang across the kitchen made all conversation stop.

Immediately, someone was with him, taking his hand and pulling. Jim watched, helpless to move, as his hand was dragged under a tap and the water turned on.

He couldn't hear anything. The bang, it was ringing in his ears again. The bullet mark in the carpet. Ty's fingers on his shoulder, a farewell.

Jim was no longer in his body, but he did vaguely notice as it was led out of the kitchen and pushed down on the bench outside the back door. As the door closed, silence fell.

The air was cooler out here and Jim realised he was sweating. He shivered.

There was a hand slowly rubbing circles in his back. He turned his head. For several seconds he couldn't place the face, nor translate the speech into words.

"You with me?" AJ said.

Jim blinked. He hadn't even realised AJ was on shift.

"Sorry, I'm probably the last person you want to see, I was the only person free is all. But you should sit here for a bit. I'll leave you alone if - if that's what you want."

Jim shook his head. He'd spent too much time alone already.

"Okay," AJ said. "Do you, uh, want to talk about it?"

He had no idea. But it was what you were meant to do, wasn't it? Where could he even start?

"Did something happen to Ty?"

He was that obvious. Jim put his head in his hands and nodded.

"Is he okay? It isn't – is it cause of what I did?"

He shook his head again. AJ's actions weren't even a blip, right now.

Maybe if Jim had let him take Ty, things would be different now. Maybe he'd still be safe.

"What's going on, Jim? Talk to me. We were friends once, I know I – I ruined it, but I could still try to help."

"He's gone."

AJ blinked. "Uh, what?"

"A man came." Jim's voice was hollow. "He threatened to shoot me. Ty went with him."

"Shit. Do the police know?"

Jim nodded.

"Then they'll find him, right? They'll bring him back." He frowned at Jim's unchanged expression. "Won't they?"

Jim shook his head. He stared at the cracked cement under his feet. "It took them one and a half years, last time."

"One and... Shit. Okay. Well, you – why the hell did you come to work, Jim?"

He laughed hollowly. "We don't have much money. What choice do I have? If it's going to be a year or two before he comes back... I've got to get on with it, haven't I?"

"No," AJ said emphatically. "No you fucking don't. Your husband got fucking kidnapped and it looks like they beat you up, too. That merits a few days off work, you...you idiot."

Kidnapped. Jim felt a shudder go through him, a huge press of emotion against his relative calm.

"I'll talk to the boss, see if we can get you a holiday or something. Get you paid. He owes you for the overtime you did last month. You get your stuff and go home." He paused. "I mean, does that sound okay with you?"

A weary smile found Jim's face. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks, AJ."

#whumptober2019 #alt no.6 #grief #angst #burn #denial #stress #loneliness #jim #AJ #he's learned some hard lessons since we last saw him!#my fic #let's see how jim's coping!#< my tag for jim while bad things happen to ty

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writerpeach · 6 years ago

Text

Jihyo's Happy Ending

Twice Jihyo

2937 words

Categories: male reader, smut, alternate universe

NSFW 18+

“Free full body massage.”

You’re not even sure what contest or giveaway you entered, but somehow you find yourself on the recipient of an invitation for a top tier massage treatment at the local spa that had just opened up a few blocks right outside your workplace.

You enter the door to what looks to be a rather large facility. You walk into to a rather luxurious lobby, glass tables and fancy chairs everywhere, a price menu listing different skin treatments and various types of baths that you'd never heard of nor would be able to justify. Sitting front and center is a cute busty receptionist smiling up at you with long dark hair, written on her name tag are the words “Hirai Momo”.

“Hello sir, welcome. How can I help you?”

“Hi, I have a two o'clock appointment, I think her name was Park Jihyo?” There’s an nervousness to your voice, the whole situation was rather new to you.

Her slim fingers glide across the surface of a large tablet as the screen lights up. “Ah, yes sir, here you are. Right this way, please.”

Momo leads you down a brightly lit corridor full of several rooms until she stops at one at the very end of the hall. She opens the door to a rather voluptuous woman already in process of setting up the massage table.

“Here you are sir, Miss Jihyo will take real good care of you, please enjoy!” She never stops smiling as she exits.

“Thank you, Momo.” You watch her leave, hips swaying with every step.

The space was occupied with a table in the middle, low-lit with cubbies against the wall, full of oils and extra towels, scented candles on one of them that made the room smell like vanilla and honey. The temperature was kept warm, but not smothering, smooth jazz was surrounding the room through multiple high mounted speakers. The whole package helped set the mood nicely.

The black haired bob-cut masseuse in front was rather ravishing, her clothes hugged her curves in all the right places. She was very well endowed, the skimpy white tank top she was clad in was doing a poor job of containing her rather large tits, making it fairly obvious at the lack of a bra, her nipples were piercing through the thin fabric as if trying to escape. You tried your best not to stare.

“Hi there, I’m Jihyo, please come in. Everything has been paid for, sir, including tip. Please remove your clothes and lie under the towel, you can place your clothes here,” she says as she puts a hand on the one of the empty brown cubbies. I’ll be right in.“ She smiles and steps out of the room to let you get undressed.

The idea of being naked and having a stranger touch you was a little nerve-wracking for you, even one as hot as she was. You’re here to relax though, and that’s what you’re going to do, even if you have to force yourself to do so.

You undress and fold your clothes and place them inside the cubby, climbing onto the massage table and lie down face first, covering your waist with the small beige towel that was provided. It’s more comfortable than you expected, it was firm but not uncomfortably so.

You hear the footsteps of the lovely masseuse returning. “Ready?”

“Yes, I think so.” You're slightly nervous, but her sultry voice comforts you.

“What do you need me to work on first?”

“My shoulders and back have been killing me all week, I’ve had to put in a lot of overtime this week.”

Jihyo feels you out between your shoulder blades, “I can see that, your muscles are very tight. Let’s see if i can help with that.” She grabs a bottle of massage oil from the nearby table and flips the cap open, cupping one hand she pours a generous amount of oil into her palm, closing the lid and placing the bottle at the base of your legs in between your calves.

“What you do for work?” Jihyo asks, warming the oil up by rubbing it in between her palms.

“I do security consulting for several major tech companies, I help make sure they’re not vulnerable to intruder attacks and malware.“ You tried not to make it seem like you were showing off.

“Sounds complicated.” She presses her hands against your upper back, applying firm pressure as she rubs her hands down your spine and towards the small of your back, she repeats the movement several times, trying to concentrate on working out the kinks. Her hands were soft but strong, she knew just how much pressure to apply without hurting.

“Does that feel okay? Are you comfortable?”

“Very. I can feel the tension leaving already,” you reply as you start to feel all your worries washing away.

“You have nice back muscles. Do you work out?” It was an oddly specific compliment, but you took it nonetheless.

“When I can, sometimes I have to stay at work for sixteen hours, so I’m too exhausted by the time I leave.”

“That sounds miserable.” Jihyo focuses on your nape now, using the ball of her palm to knead tight small circles clockwise at the base of your neck.

“It can be, pay is real nice though.“ You feel muscles you didn’t even know you had unclench, Jihyo’s magical hands were putting you in a trance-like state.

Jihyo presses her palm harder against your neck, “Is that okay? Not too rough?”

“No, it's good. In fact you could go rougher,” you say innocently as she alternates the direction of her palm, moving circles from right to left now.

“Of course. Do you... often like things rough?” she says with a cheeky smile that you were unable to see, applying even more pressure.

Your cheeks grow flushed red at the sudden innuendo. “If the occasion permits, sure.”

“I see. Me too, sometimes rough is nice. Still okay?”

“Yes, it’s perfect. You seem to really know your way around a man’s body, Miss Jihyo.”

“Just Jihyo is fine, and thanks. It is part of my job, so I do have plenty of experience.” She grabs both of your shoulders from behind, moving slowly and pressing her thumbs down, finding most of where your most troublesome spots were. Those hours and hours per week huddled over a computer screen weren't doing you any favors.

“I’m going to push pretty hard now. Deep breaths, in and out, “ Jihyo says as she finds a particularly stubborn knot. You inhale and exhale in rhythm as she digs her knuckle into your bare skin for a few seconds, holding it just long enough to see the muscle finally relax.”

“You’re doing great. Turn over, please.”

You rotate onto your right hip, keeping the towel in place as you lay flat on your back. She pours more oil on her hands, warming it up once again and starts working on the tissue just above your right elbow, feeling every part of your bicep as she keeps constant pressure.

She works both hands, stretching each one back and forth before making her way down to your thighs, starting at the upper area and massaging gently. A sudden rush of blood hits your nether regions, you try to be discreet about it, but Jihyo glances down and notices the erection poking through the bottom of your towel. You feel embarrassed and feel the need to apologize.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, I-”

She responds with a sly grin, “Don’t be, it’s a perfectly natural reaction, it happens to most of my male clients.”

You feel the color in your cheeks return to its original state, “Good to know, I guess that just means you’re really good at your job.”

“Thank you. If you need me to...I can help you do something about it. Maybe relieve the tension with my special massage.”

You nearly choke.

“I’m sorry?” Disbelief hits you, you're not sure you heard right.

“When I said everything has been paid for, I meant everything.“ She bites her lip, ensuring you know exactly what she's talking about.

“I...understand. You’re quite the seductress aren’t you?”

Her cheeks start to blush, “I’m really not, I don’t do this for everyone, it’s only reserved for my most…exclusive clients. Which you happen to be. I only have one rule - my pussy is off limits, but you can touch me as much as you want. “

“That’s a fairly generous rule, I accept your terms.”

Jihyo allows herself to get more comfortable, grabbing the hem of her sleeveless top with both hands and scrunching it up just over her breasts to free them, letting you gander at her ample bosom as your mouth begins to water.

Jihyo carefully climbs on up the table and sits on her knees, resting the oil bottle flat between the two halves of the massage table. She pulls the towel off your body and tosses it aside, unleashing your stiff cock.

Her eyes grow wide as she yearns for your cock, impressed by its size.

“Very nice.”

With an insatiable lust in her eyes, Jihyo parts your thighs and gives your shaft a few strokes to ensure proper hardness before pressing her warm tongue flat against the base of your shaft, slowly drawing upwards and painting long strokes up and down.

She finds the tip of your cock, as soon as her slippery tongue makes contact you let out a deep exhale. Jihyo tongues around the outer edge of your head, brushing wildly over the slit and underside.

Locking her eyes onto yours, she brings her lips forward and tightens them around your swollen head, taking your cock into her tight, warm mouth for the first time, sucking slowly as you give out a low moan.

“Fuck…that's good.”

She slides her silky red lips down your shaft until half of your length is in her throat, she begins to suck harder as she bounces her head up and down, her tits jiggle with every stroke of her wet mouth.

You start to lose yourself in the pleasure, her slick mouth clings to your shaft, without warning she swallows every inch of your shaft until you've completely impaled her throat with your thick cock.

“Ugh, that feels so good. You’re just good at everything aren’t you?” You ask her as she does her best to smile with a mouth full of dick, you weren’t expecting her to deepthroat you, but it was most welcome.

You feel a warm hand join the party and grip your shaft, twisting and flicking around with every stroke, adding even more pleasure that causes you to close your eyes for a few seconds, taking in the feeling of her throat being completely filled with your cock, coating every surface of your shaft with warm saliva, working absolute magic with her hands and mouth between your legs.

She takes a breather and lets your cock flop out of her mouth, covered in her drool. “Such a nice, big, tasty cock. Would you like to fuck these big tits of mine with it?”

“I’d fucking love to. I haven't been able to take my eyes off them.”

Jihyo gets rid of the rest of the top, throwing it your head, releasing her round and sizeable breasts completely.

She runs her hands over her breasts from top to bottom, taking a few seconds to thumb her stiffening nipples before raising her arms over her head, allowing you to get a perfect view.

“Touch me.”

You do so without delay, not one to deny the best request you’ve ever been given, promptly bringing your hands to both of her supple breasts needing to fully worship them. Your hands cup each one firmly, feeling the weight and softness of each mound, squeezing and massaging them, trying to feel as much of them as you can.

Your hands explore every soft inch of her bust, feeling around the curves and making your way to those hard rosy pink nipples, thumbing each bud as you feel up every nook and cranny, taking in the warm flesh.

“You like?” Before you can answer she pins her succulent rack against your face, burying your face deep in between both perky mounds.

The humidity in the room had caused a thin layer of sweat to form on her cleavage, you savor it as you drag your tongue from bottom to top in between her chest.

You dive straight in as you make your way to her firm right breast, bringing the pink tinted nipple just begging to be tasted into your mouth. You wander around every surface of her mound, flicking your tongue around the hard nub in circular patterns, making her the one to moan this time at the sensitivity.

Not wanting to leave her other breast out your free hand grabs it, fondling it gently, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub in between your fingers before bringing your mouth to it, leaving the already savored nipple rich with spit.

You alternate breasts, biting and suckling at each nipple, trying to take in as much of her breasts into your mouth as possible, leaving both nubs shiny and glistening.

Jihyo is ready for you to move on the to main event, she reaches for the bottle of oil that you forgot was still even there, opening the cap and aiming the tip towards her chest she pours a very generous amount of massage oil over both breasts, putting the bottle down and using both hands to rub the oil into her skin thoroughly, until both tits were oily and shimmering.

“Holy shit.”

You’re completely speechless at the sight of drenched breasts. She lowers to your lap, pinning your arms over your head as she begins to grind her perfect breasts over your body, pressing against your chest and drawing down slowly until her tits meet your crotch, running the soft mounds against your stiff cock, grinding up and down, teasing you with their touch ever so slightly.

Jihyo’s eyes light up, you knew what was coming next, and nothing in the world could prepare you for it. In a heartbeat she takes your hard cock and slips you into her cleavage, cupping and wrapping her large breasts around your shaft and squeezing them tightly.

She grinds her bust up and down your shaft as the warm flesh surrounds you, the feel of your stiff erection being trapped in her slippery tits as you thrust in and out of them was so utterly mind-blowing. The friction created as you pump your shaft between Jihyo’s mounds shoots pleasure throughout your whole body, with every thrust your sensitive cock disappears in the deep caverns of her firm and perky tits, lubricated nicely by the massage oil.

“You like that? You like fucking these big tits of mine?” Jihyo asks as she forms a wall with her hands, interlocking her fingers to prevent your slick cock from escaping from her cleavage.

“I fucking love it. It feels so fucking good. Fuck..Jihyo, if you keep that up I’m going to explode.”

“You better. Cum for me. All over these tits. “ Jihyo looks up seductively at you, eagerly anticipating your hot load.

You tried to hold out as long as possible, but the intense pleasure was just too, too much for you and you give in, the pressure that had been pent up had reached its peak.

“Oh fuck, Jihyo, I-I’m gonna cum!”

Everything turns black for a moment as your cock convulses and erupts, sending thick white streams of hot cum into Jihyo’s warm slick cleavage, subsequently glazing the tops of her tits as the final spurts land just below her neck on her upper chest.

Jihyo removes your still throbbing cock from her cum coated tits and gives your shaft a few final strokes, making sure she’s drained you of every drop of semen, the sensitivity from your climax causes your whole body to jerk.

You try to catch your breathes as your chest heaves, your post orgasm haze has taken over as Jihyo gracefully uses her hands to rub the sticky mess in everywhere, until it blends with her tanned oily skin, glistening even more.

“I hope that was...satisfactory.” Jihyo asks as she climbs down and puts her top back on, her wet breasts were clinging to the fabric of her shirt.

“That was incredible, Jihyo,” you barely make out in a whisper as you finally start to recover.

“I’d like to see you again. I'd love to stay but I have another client soon. I hope you can come again soon.” She flashes those pearly whites again that seemed to add years to your life.

“Of course. I'd like that.” She leaves the room, giving one last cute smile as you gingerly make your way off the table and get dressed. You head back the way you came in through the hallway and return to the lobby.

The cute receptionist smiles at you again before you leave.

“Was everything up to your standards, sir? I hope you enjoyed the extra special service our masseuse provided.”

“Absolutely. Thank you Momo. I’m going to need to visit here more often.”

“Good, we look forward to seeing you again, sir. “

#twice smut #kpop smut #jihyo smut #twice #jihyo #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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hopevalley · 6 years ago

Note

I just want to thank you for keeping this public. I have promoted you on Twitter and will continue to do so. I want to help in any way I can.

I debated all morning on how to reply to this. I know this is reference to Melinda making her blog private for Tumblr users only, and I think it’s important for me to express my opinion on that situation.

But first: thank you for the Twitter promotion! I have a Twitter account, but I admit I rarely use it (because I find it confusing to use lol). It’s @july_skies !

Regarding Melinda’s decision to privatize her blog: I support it. She works hard on her content and deserves to feel that people who like it will be capable of supporting it in a direct way (reblogs specifically). Nothing sucks more than making stuff and seeing that nobody’s looking at it or enjoying it, and whether or not that’s what it seems like to (general) you, that’s how it comes across when people don’t reblog her stuff. It’s depressing. It’s like she’s throwing her hard work right into the void.

While I’m on the subject, I’d like to talk about content creation a little more, to help give you guys a better idea of fandom and your place as a consumer of fanworks; I know a lot of you might be new to the concept, and you can’t know if nobody thinks to tell you.

For my “credentials,” let’s just say I’ve been a content creator for more than half my life and there’s something we lifers call fandom participation or fandom engagement. They are more or less the same thing, and the terminology boils down to us answering this question: “How is the fandom at large engaging with our content?”

In the last handful of years, participation is down across the board. When I first got into writing fanfiction I’d get at least 40 comments on anything I wrote. Many of my works ended up with 60+ comments on them!

Now I’m lucky if anyone comments at all, especially in this fandom. Again, it’s a problem everywhere, but I still get comments on fanfic I posted five years ago in other fandoms; meanwhile, this one remains relatively silent.

I post on AO3 for two big reasons. 1) ACCESSIBILITY. AO3′s site layout is easy to read! It’s easy to format! It’s friendly to people with issues seeing small print! And then we have 2) I do it to give people the option of commenting anonymously (in case they’re shy or nervous).

Having an account there isn’t required at all. People just choose not to engage with me when I post fanfiction.

It feels bad to spend hours of your time on something only to see 0 notes/comments/likes/reblogs/whatever on it later. Four ‘likes’ doesn’t feel that good either. Did people actually like it? Are they pity-likes? Do they even care? People mindlessly ‘like’ a lot of things; maybe they did that with your content, too. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy seeing ‘likes’ but a ‘like’ is more or less an acknowledgement that they’ve seen the content, not that they enjoyed it or want more of it.

Also, likes/kudos don’t draw in more readers: comments do. When a reader’s scrolling down the front page of their favorite AO3 fandom, they click on the ‘fics that look like they might be ‘good’ and even though it’s not always TRUE that the ‘best’ stories have the most comments, a lot of readers filter by the number of comments!

Comments tell other readers: this is worth checking out!

Let’s look at a quick example of one of my ‘fics:

This is from my AO3 account, a random WCtH fanfic. It’s not a long one, but it’s not short either. It’s a reasonable read in terms of time spent to read it, and as you can see 185 people clicked on it, 14 people ‘liked’ it (kudos are “likes”), and I have two comments: one of those comments is @trash-god and the other is me replying to her comment.

Her comment isn’t ‘less than’ because she’s a close friend, but she and I spoke at length about this story on Discord and her comment was just a nice little ‘addition’ to that conversation. Sure, the story’s about characters not many people care about, but look at that: 185 hits on the story. 14 likes. And only one person who read it took five seconds to leave a comment? Really? What about the 13 other people who ‘liked’ it?

What this says to me as a creator is that the ONLY person who is going to comment is the one person who might feel obligated to, and if that’s the case, why don’t I just save my stories to show her privately? Why bother posting them out into the void to hear nothing but silence from everyone else?

This is the direction that @whencallstheheart is coming from. What’s the point of spending hours creating these things when nobody interacts with you? Posting to silence feels bad. And look, to put it into perspective, editing gifs to post, writing fanfic, doing write-ups, maintenance of a blog, site, or social media presence: it’s super time-consuming.

Melinda and I both work full-time jobs as it is. My job hit full busy season and I’m even getting overtime now. I’m in training to take over the department next year and I’m tired at the end of the day. When I get home I have eight cats, a house to take care of, and a spouse, not to mention my in-laws live right next door and need help sometimes. We also have a property we just planted 1500 trees on by hand that we have to monitor, and my husband owns a house we rent to someone that needs work done on it, too. Sometimes, life is busy.

And don’t get me wrong! I enjoy creating, just like I’m sure Melinda does. I feel awful if I can’t “create.”

But if my choices are:

work for five hours on a fanfic or episode write-up only to get 4 likes on it, OR

play a video game or watch a movie or read a book or sit on the deck watchin’ the sun go down while I work on a crocheting project…

The latter definitely appeals to me more knowing I have to get up in the morning to go back to work again. My time is worth something. Neither Melinda nor I are getting paid to create this content. We put it together for free, in what spare time we have, in the midst of our own chaotic lives. My website costs me a chunk of money every year to keep up and running ad-free, and I could get all 1500 trees weeded in the amount of time it takes me to put together an episode write-up or decent fanfic.

All content creators ask for in exchange for their free labor is a sense of community, and that can be anything from:

comments on fanfics you enjoyed, even if they are just to say, “I read this and enjoyed it.”

messages that say, “I really like how [this edit you did] turned out.”

reblogs on Tumblr, retweets on Twitter, emails to website owners

you can even create your own blog and use it to begin conversations with those creators!

You guys have been pretty good about engaging with the show itself through us, but don’t forget to engage with the content you enjoy seeing that comes about because of the show.

Fandom content keeps the show alive even when it’s not currently airing, and supporting content creators keeps them creating. Everyone wins, then!

To talk specifically about written content...

Readers are the ones who ensure more material is created. Hands down.

And again: I love writing!! I DO. I’ve been writing seriously for more years of my life than I haven’t been writing seriously! But it’s disheartening to post a fanfic and get my one obligation comment.

Now, it’s fine if you don’t read fanfiction or even enjoy it. It’s also fine if the things I’ve posted aren’t to your specific tastes. Trust me, I get it; nobody is obligated to comment on my fanfiction, and I don’t want anyone to feel that they should be.

But please know this: if you do enjoy something, whether it’s fanfic or edits or something else, you NEED to engage with it, or it WILL disappear. People don’t like talking to walls. It’s frustrating and it isn’t a good use of their time.

(This is one of the reasons I haven’t bothered doing a novelization of the series. It could be fun, but for 0 comments it’s not worth spending the time on.)

Again, you guys have been great when it comes to engaging with the show material, particularly while the show is airing. It’s been fun speculating with you and hearing all of your different thoughts. I know sometimes Tumblr doesn’t make it easy to communicate, either, and you’ve all done a great job of getting around that.

But in between seasons things get slow on this blog and it’s hard for me (or anyone running a blog) to feel motivated to provide content of any sort if you’re not going to take the time to engage in it.

I’ll never mark this blog as private, but if I get to the point where I can’t get any engagement from the fans, I’ll shut it down. The point of having a “fandom blog” is to interact with other fans.

I enjoy providing content to you guys, but if participation drops off to nothing, I’ll be taking that as my signal that the audience is gone and my time would be better spent elsewhere.

So if you’re here and you’re enjoying things, don’t forget to take a little time out of your day to let your content creators know! Not just me and Melinda, of course, but your favorite people on Instagram, Twitter, and other sites as well. ♥ You might be surprised how happy they’ll be to receive interaction from other fans.

And another plug for fanfiction, because 1) they always get the short end of things considering how hard it is to amass the creative energy necessary to tell a good story, and 2) I noticed it’s the #2 page on my website getting visited: if you’ve enjoyed anything you’ve read for When Calls the Heart, tell the author! Here’s the section for WCtH on AO3! Is English not your native language/you’re not confident in your ability to write English? No worries! I’ve gotten many thoughtful comments in other languages and from people who spoke limited English, and trust me: I treasured every one. If you’re just not sure how to comment on fanfic, send me a message and I’ll give you some tips!

I don’t intend this as a slight against my anonymous friend up there AT ALL; I think it can be hard to be in fandom, especially if you’re newer to the scene. There’s a lot of history that’s long gone by now and missing out on it means it’s harder to step into fandom without also accidentally stepping on toes.

Sometimes we take for granted that we have an almost unlimited supply of fanfiction, gifs, memes, blogs, and so on at our disposal. But none of that comes from thin air and it never did. It’s the cumulative hard work of millions of people throwing their hearts and souls into something they’re passionate about in an effort to engage with other fans.

I hope this helped put things into perspective a bit!! Sending love at all of you that stuck around this far; I know it was quite a bit of a ramble LOL!

#when calls the heart #anonymously asked #answered mail #thank you for the kind comment but here's my perspective #in the hopes that you'll understand melinda's a little more #the lack of engagement gets me down too tbh #if i felt people would comment on and want to talk to me about #a novelization i'd start writing it tomorrow

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