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kittylittersmoothie · 3 months ago
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(two versions because i can't decide which is slightly less abhorrent:)
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anotetosaturn · 9 days ago
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"you are the ocean, evan," he said, voice quieter now.
"you live for it. you move like it, talk about it like it's— like it's in your bones.
and manta rays." he swallowed. "they glide. they're steady, even when everything around them is chaos."
eddie took a breath.
"and that's you. to me."
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uhhh idk what this is but anywho marine biologist evan buckley au is HEAVY on my noggin tbh
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kalelactually · 3 months ago
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second chapter of ratchlock mecha au !! you can find the first one on my tumblr profile or my ao3 — as always, inspired by @keferon ‘s mecha au, based on pacific rim !! check out their blog, it’s full of delicious art. :3
chapter summary :: in which ratchet swears and has a vaguely southern accent, deadlock still hasn’t woken up, and the author uses the phrase “back to the garage” a ridiculous amount of times. heavily sprinkled with apostrophes.
thx for reading, enjoy !!! <33
fun little note: read ratchet’s voice and thoughts with a southern accent / drawl. it makes for an exhausted, no bs kind of hilarity. i can’t explain it to you, but trust me. XD
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• send out a signal, and i’ll fly low (i’ll find you by the light of your halo) — chapter two
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Ratchet stands on a log that’s halfway suspended off the ground, the figure splayed out in front of him (he’s hoping the height will give him a better vantage point to visually assess priority injuries.) He’d just made a run to the garage and hauled back whatever supplies Lassie (his all-terrain rover) could fit.
(And listen, he didn’t pick the name, that was all First Aid — affectionately named due to her wide dual antennae and Rough Collie color scheme. Ratchet kind of loves it, but don’t tell Aid. He’ll get ideas.)
Wheelie (one of his med drones, also named by Aid. big surprise,) flits around overhead, actively taking visuals of the figure and digitizing partial schematics based off those. He chirps inquisitively from the side, systems whirring as Ratchet jams a hastily-assembled sandwich in his mouth (he forgot to eat it on the way.)
According to Ratchet’s initial assessment, the figure appears not to have any sort of respiration system — sure, there’s external vents on the figure’s upper torso, but there’s no circulatory air flow or chest rise and fall to indicate lungs. That, fortunately, takes two major concerns out of play.
Having finished his sandwich, Ratchet jumps off the log to reassess the mouth and airway. The airway’s still patent, and Ratchet’s pleased to note that the pink liquid dripping out of the mouth and nose seems to have clotted on its own.
And the fact that the liquid stopped flowing on its own indicates that the being likely has some type of clotting factor, or self-diagnostic repair system — which in turn indicates some type of independent processes, and a partial measure of intelligence. And while it might be a new branch of A.I. programming or something similar he hasn’t come across yet — he gets the feeling that isn’t just a new software. (Honestly, either way, he still notes it down with a carefully restrained glee.)
No, something in his gut is telling him that this — this figure, being, or whatever it is — is simply just different. True, it could be some experimental military hardware or equipment, like a remote-controlled mecha suit (which was his initial hunch) but this thing? No. This thing’s alive — and he thinks it’s sentient.
(And this thought, if verbalized to anyone else, might have them look at him like he’s crazy and send him in for a couple rounds of psych. And like, he loves Chromedome and his sweetheart of a husband, but he’d rather not, thanks.)
He doesn’t know how to explain it. He just knows. However, based on that hell of an assumption — he’s currently making a lot of choices that could and will come back to bite him later. (Such as not reporting whatever the hell happened in the last two hours to someone who can actually do something about… well, whatever this thing is. Patient? Yeah, patient works.)
He shakes his head, forcing himself out of it. He’ll have more than enough time to second guess his decisions later. Right now, he has a patient, and that’s all he’s ever needed to know.
Having already felt the being’s neck earlier to try and detect any type of pulse (and come up with nothing,) he moves on to assess and neutralize any major fluid leaks as best he can before transport. He marks down the worst bits of exposed internals and hot spots as he does.
The figure’s broken shoulder joint will have to be stabilized before he can even think about transport, and when he shifts the being’s right arm (with the help of Wheelie,) he finds deep lacerations running through the upper abdomen. (And it. It looks bad. Like it was shredded — like someone took claws to it.)
Ratchet’s not going to even begin to unpack that. Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do for the abdomen at the moment without a welder, but he clamps torn fuel lines and caps exposed wiring in an attempt to buy time.
He takes a moment and sends out an alert for the rest of the med drones to meet them at the site, inputting coordinates with one hand and grabbing a sample jar with the other, an easy confidence in his posture that radiates experience.
And meanwhile the glee from earlier keeps coming back, growing up his spine the more he examines the being’s mechanics (mechanics that someone, somewhere) crafted and poured into them. He runs his fingers down a seam, featherlight in a kind of reverence — even bashed and dented to high heaven, this figure is a vision.
He drops his hand as he catches himself — he still has a patient here, and they’re not getting any better out here exposed to the elements. He really needs to get his priorities straight — he hasn’t slipped like this at a scene since his very early days, when everything was still new, fresh, and stimulating. His entirely professional mechanic’s awe (and mild jealousy) over the being’s construction can keep.
He carefully takes a sample of the pink liquid, catching it in the sample jar as it drips directly from an open line in the being’s dislocated shoulder just before he binds it closed. He tucks the jar safely in his bag, wrapping it in shop towels just in case it decides to corrode its container. It hasn’t shown any signs of corrosion to the nearby environment or his work gloves so far, but you can never be too careful.
(The incident at Jasper Base II comes to mind. Some people could benefit from basic lab rules. Why, yes, he is looking at you, Wheeljack.)
That taken care of, he grabs some construction grade rebar and an extra tarp he had lying around to use as a temporary splint. With Wheelie’s help, he ends up being able to stabilize the shoulder relatively easily, despite the being’s size (and current state of unhelpfulness.)
And once that’s complete, he decides he’s finished what he can, quickly packing up the site. The figure’s as stable as they’re going to get before transport, and the drone squad is almost here — there’s absolutely the concern of more going on with the figure internally that he can’t ascertain, and he needs to get them in for extensive scanning like, yesterday.
He puts in another call to Orion while he waits — but just like earlier when he called at the garage, Orion still doesn’t pick up. And while Ratchet’s never been one for paranoia (that was always Red Alert’s thing,) he’s starting feel something chewing away at the back of his brain. Something feels off about this whole situation (aside from the huge, hulking metal figure,) and he’s never been one to discount his intuition.
(Mostly because it’s hard-earned — but also because he has the skills, knowledge, and temperament to back it up.)
He taps the figure’s undamaged shoulder carefully (as if to acknowledge that they’re still there and very much real,) sighing loudly. The whole shift of his body changes as he does, exhaustion coloring his bones for the first time since he stumbled across a figure in the woods. He glances up at the figure’s face a second later, looking for any hint of consciousness, something to tell him that they’re alive, and listening.
“Hey. I don’t know if you can hear me, but,” and he pauses for a second. “Well, weirder things have happened. Hopefully you’re just out cold — you better not be in a coma or something, because I have no idea how to pull you out. I do not get paid enough for that.”
He watches Wheelie flit around Lassie, her antennae moving up and down as she tracks the drone’s movements, and if Ratchet didn’t know better he’d say they were playing like a couple of kids. Cute, carefree, and oblivious to the world around them that witnessed upheaval only a few hours ago. He continues.
“I hope you’ve got a name. Mine’s Ratchet, in case you were wondering. It’s military,” (and that part is said longsufferingly.) “I’ve just been calling you Scrappy in my head. I hope that works for you, because until you wake up, or come out of stasis, or whatever, that’s what you got.”
He absentmindedly starts brushing dried mud and old paint off the being’s arm as he talks. “And you better wake up soon, kiddo, I got questions. My best friend isn’t answering my calls, which means you’re gonna be stuck with ‘em; so please, be prepared. I’ve got a notebook stash to rival Alpha Trion’s and a 82 year old whiskey cellar on hand, so you better have some answers,” and here, he uncovers some gray paint, voice trailing away as he brushes off more dirt. His eyes widen, eyebrows raising as he reads.
“D34D106K, huh?” and he lets out a whistle. “Hell of a name, if that is, actually, your name. Well,” and he shrugs, “gives me somewhere to start, I guess.
He pats D34D106K on the arm consolingly. Damn, and if that isn’t a mouthful — Scrappy’s better, honestly.
“Can’t make any promises, of course, kiddo, but I’ll do my best to find out what happened to you.” He glances down at his PADD, glaring at Orion’s contact without any real heat. “That is, if my best friend ever feels like calling me back.”
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thx again for reading !! appreciate each and every one of you. <33
disclaimer :: i am not an engineer, a mechanic, or a programmer; i know nothing of which i speak. but i do happily take feedback, so if something seems wildly off, pls let me know and i’ll go bother my mechanic relatives until i figure it out.
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• character credits belong to hasbro, idw comics, and the respective transformers franchise. all works enclosed are solely my own, and are purely fictional and meant for the enjoyment of the reader. please do not republish, steal, or likewise pass off my works as your own in any manner, otherwise you will be blocked and reported. ty !! •
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7fff00 · 3 months ago
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unfortunately every time i contemplate perpetrating a text post i get a sentence or three into it only to experience agonies over the hideousness of my own prose styling
which is putting something of a crimp in this whole 'what if i started blogging again' experiment
#there's of course also the question of like. do i owe it to myself and/or to my ~audience~ to Explain My Long Absence#or like. 'owe' is the wrong word. but there IS stuff i'm interested in unpacking#however as a guy who took an extra decade to get a BA bc [] couldn't write a paper to save [] life#and as a result kept failing classes []'d been doing extremely well in prior to the arrival of Final Paper Guillotine#(side note oh boy am i developing new pronoun problems. is this an exciting new development i will promptly be proceeding to ignore.)#(MAYBE SO.)#the idea of like. writing a whole big personal essay abt the issues i developed from the environment i turned tumblr into for myself#(yes that's awkward phrasing but i get frustrated when people get on tumblr to complain about tumblr without acknowledging that like#whatever tumblr is for you is what you've said yes‚ either actively or passively‚ to letting accrete around you#so like. not gonna let myself off the hook abt that any more than i would anyone else. i said yes a thousand times to my own ruination.)#is. well. i like to think i've learned a LITTLE about setting myself up for failure‚ lmao#i expect i WILL get into it eventually bc like. what are we all here for if not some degree of omphaloskepsis#but like. just say no to the big opening programmatic mission statement concept#instead you get the deliberately-mediocre scribble to break in the sketchbook#and maybe down the line some other stuff in dribs and drabs
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mildlagoon · 5 months ago
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can i post my old music here, is this allowed
mild lagoon-little spoon
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dalliansss · 2 years ago
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10 First Lines
Tagged by @cuarthol
There is never a dull moment in Barad-dûr. - farther than the sun can see
Curufinwë Atarinkë feels the onset of the warmth of the sunlight, funneling as it does through one of the many, cleverly-engineered and crafted light tunnels of the underground realm of Nargothrond. - amaurëa
Captives in Angband knew who was coming to torment them.  - and treachery takes root
As he is wont to do, Finwe Noldoran gets to the council room in the palace at Tirion way before any of the Lords are allowed into the bright and airy chambers. - little sunshine
It was the rudest of treatments, in Turkafinwë’s opinion. - Along Came an Elf
“ Nargothrond ?” Maeglin blurted out, stopping brutally in the forging of his new gauntlets. “You wish for me to go to Nargothrond? For which purpose?” - Doom, Gloom and Maeglin co-written with @skaelds
It is always a busy day during Orgilion in High King Gil-galad’s court.  - in so many words
Egg, Aikanár, downed his goblet of wine moodily. - a wedding
Finwë thinks feebly that he should have listened to Náro. - truth
Fingon thinks of his long life so far, and he wonders if he was loved. - and he wonders if he was loved
Tagging: @elentarial @skaelds @goschatewabn @lvsifer @junk-whunk-punk-artist @melkors-big-tits @aotearoa20 @pearlescentpearl @eternal-fear
++ YOU. Yes, you.
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hautecouturehues · 8 months ago
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salamispots · 1 year ago
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kinda interesting how from far away it looks kinda drab but the closer you get all the colors start popping out (at least when I'm trying to take photos hahah)
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more wips
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monstrouscrew · 3 months ago
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Dot Mantra
we are all grains of sand in this endless ocean.
keep refracting the light and emitting your own. space is cold, full of noises and pointless; we make sense of it all, even if all the noise makes it look like we do it alone.
16.03.2025
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about the type of noise here
see: Drab Majesty - Noise of The Void; Silent Planet - Panopticon; Lebanon Hanover - Digital Ocean
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nyctarian · 4 months ago
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oh my god the image posted so much bigger than i expected lol woe read more be upon ye
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different sort of draft check in but i am very close to being done with the 2019 section of my drafts
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macro-microcosm · 2 years ago
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WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MESSENGER BLOG COLORS
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kuromkiz · 4 months ago
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.。*゚+.*.。 Sincerely, Mr. Crust | ʏ.ᴊᴡ
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WORD COUNT : 25.5k PAIRING : yang jungwon x immortal!femreader GENRE : fluffy fluff, dash of angst, historical + immortal au
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SYNOPSIS: you had lived a long life—emphasis on long—a fulfilling life nonetheless, but still, long. you wondered why whoever made you this way did it. to torment you? to torture you? had you done something wrong to begin with? whatever the reason may be, life started to become drab. until you met him. oh. what a devastatingly unfortunate occurrence it was to meet him.
AUTHORS NOTE : everything here is my own work. inspiration was briefly cast from a tiktok prompt mentioning immortals, but every other story plot is my own. aka this fic is my first tumblr child i raised her.
WARNINGS : mostly fluff, eventual angst, sort’ve slow build up, set in olden-day time but not historically accurate (no specific year set), brief mention of the word ‘fat’ (used in connotations of eating a lot of food), use of romanised korean words (noona, unnie, hyung, etc—i know, sue me!!!), mentions of alcohol and getting drunk/tipsy, slightly suggestive?? they get a bit kissy and handsy but not much more hehe, proofread, but im not that great at comprehension (a joke but there may be some spelling, grammatical, or general errors that escaped my reading)
SOUNDTRACK : ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 1 / 1 6 ↳ no. 1 party anthem—arctic monkeys ↳ kiss me—sixpence none the richer ↳ somewhere only we know—keane ↳ a new kind of love - demo—frou frou ↳ what once was—her’s ↳ everything—the black skirts ↳ it’s only a paper moon—beabadoobee ↳ hurts me too - faye webster ↳ nothing’s gonna hurt you baby—cigarettes after sex ↳ heart to heart—mac demarco ↳ 面影 (omokage)—lamp ↳ i bet on losing dogs—mitski ↳ apocalypse—cigarettes after sex ↳ m. sped up version—anil emre daldal ↳ cry—cigarettes after sex ↳ 冬の影は哀しみ (fuyu no kage wa kanashimi)—lamp
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any likes, comments, or reblogs are appreciated !! feedback is also welcome, just don’t be rude or disrespectful yk :p
© @kuromkiz on tumblr. do not re-upload or claim as your own
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Happy. Happy was all you could use to describe the events splayed before you.
With a wicker basket cinched between your hips and your forearm, a bountiful amount of fruit toppled atop each other, a fond smile grew upon your face.
Children played amongst one another, big, toothy grins plastered on each one of their faces. It seemed to have been a game of tag, but it had been a long time since you ever experienced life as a youngin. Perhaps they changed the name?
You settled the basket gently upon the barrels behind your station, an easy access when you needed to bake something.
You had been working at your stall for quite some time, although mundane compared to your previous jobs, it served its purpose on funding your lifestyle, and also had an underlying breeze to it all. After all, baking sweet treats had always been your forte.
The night market was about to begin, and you had just arrived from a quick restock over at Jinah’s fruit stall, your infamous apple crinkle pie having been sold out even before the night got started.
You shrugged off your thick coat from your shoulders, and hung it upon the small coatrack tucked in the corner of your little shop. It was a little shabby, but it was comforting.
Fall had just begun, yet the breeze it carried with itself was chilly as ever. This upcoming winter didn’t seem to be the comfiest of seasons.
Swapping the coat for the brown work apron that only operated from the waist down, you quickly tie a knot around your hips, securing the garment. Followed by removing the metal bands you had accessorised with—they were ancient, but no one had to know that.
Finally, you commenced baking.
In doing this, you effectively stopped thinking about the issues of your current life. You zone out. Never a working day goes by without a good hour or two of your time spent on baking mindlessly. A beautiful thing it was.
Your shop wasn’t open at this time, but people could still see you, and the remaining goods you had kept on display. The only factor that showed you weren’t selling yet was the sign on the table of displays, and a little sign just in front of your little tent. You preferred baking at the stall, but there was a communal hub for all necessities near the markets that allowed you to bake your goods. This was the only time you were out of the stall—albeit leaving to get supplies—which had earned you quite the pile of books on a little stool beside the coat rack.
It had originally been your stool to sit when you got tired or the stall had been slow, but you came to realise that when you sat, you always seemed to wish you had a book in hand rather than staring blankly at the beige interior of your tent.
Now, with your back turned towards the front, and your head in the zone, all aspects of this life seemed to fade around you, a blur in the background of your mind. Even the man who thought it’d be great to start a conversation with your back became background sound.
Wait, man?
“Pardon me?” you turned in shock, like a doe in the woods. Your hands abruptly stopped kneading the pastry as you saw who had been at the counter.
He had been wearing a modest brown hat, which matched splendidly with his brown suit. He looked to be quite wealthy. Not royal rich, but rich enough where he wouldn’t need to visit this side of town. He alone looked expensive albeit. His face with all the clarity in the world, a sharp jawline contradicted his soft looking cat-eye’s, quipped with a gentle smile, and not a hair out of place.
To compare your appearances, you currently looked alike to a stray dog who had jumped out of the market people’s garbage, whilst he seemed to be a freshly baked pie that the owner spent a good fortune of time perfectly curating. A drastic difference you found.
Despite your obvious difference in status, the man smiled warmly as he pointed behind you. “Could you give me a book recommendation?” he had asked earnestly.
With a look that still resembled shock, you shook your head and put on your customer voice, not wanting to break the boundary between buyer and seller. Besides, he looked like he could tear your stall down if you said the wrong thing. He wouldn’t though, right?
“Oh! Right… Uhh. Just one moment please.” you smiled at him before turning to the pile you had created. Your finger followed each spine of books, before landing on a dark purple, almost maroon, hard cover, the title ‘Profound Feeling of You’.
You carefully pulled the book from the stack and did a quick flip through to scan it. “Here.” you handed it to him. “Despite the intimate title, it’s quite an admirable love story. It’s one of my favourites.” an unknowingly fond smile spread across your face, similar to the one earlier, as you spoke about one of your favourite books.
He nodded, before grabbing the book from your hands graciously. “Thank you.” a smile that mirrored your own plastered onto his face. “I’ll be back once I finish this.” he held the book up and waved it gently.
You nodded in agreement. “All good.” you nodded, about to turn back around to continue baking, but he spoke up again.
“When will you be open next?” he inquired.
You pondered momentarily before responding. “I’ll be here ‘till the night market ends if you read fast.” you shrugged. “But I’m here everyday of the week from dawn to dusk.”
“Perfect.” he looked bashfully to the ground. “See you then, madam.”
“Good day, sir.” you bowed your head, finally resuming your work.
What a lovely afternoon.
Exhausted. Exhausted was all you could use to describe how the night market splayed before you.
Maybe ‘depleted’, too?
Moral of the story: you were rich off of pies, but your energy had depleted tenfold of that profit.
Dusk was slow approaching, a hazy orange sunset yet to be revealed.
This night, you hadn’t expected such a surplus of customers and it felt like you hadn’t had a chance to look at what you made anymore. Perhaps working with one extra person could benefit you; they could take the counter and you could bake away all your stress, but business was tough, and you wanted to stay a solo stall.
After what felt like years (strangely enough, you felt like the previous years you lived weren’t as long as this very night), your final pie was sold. You still had some remaining tidbits for those who had missed out on the pies, but no one really bought them as they preferred the whole package—you feed the stray animals around the market your leftover waste either way.
The night market had slowed down by this point, and a lot of stalls were nearing closing time—yours too.
The engraved wooden sign with the words ‘NO PIES’ made its appearance on your display table, with your hand adjusting its placement so it sat perfectly in the middle of your tablecloth.
“I just missed them, didn’t I?” a familiar voice brought you from your focus.
Your gaze lifted from the wooden piece to the same man from earlier, stood in front of your display. With a regretful smile, you nodded. “Sorry, just sold my last one.” you replied sheepishly.
The man sucked air in through his teeth. “Shame.” he tsked. “Heard you’re the best around.” he complimented slyly.
Oh.
Your heart skipped a beat, a feeling you hadn’t felt in an extremely longtime—maybe in forever—rose within you.
Before he could see the redness on your cheeks, you quickly turned your head away from the man, zeroing in on the books still stacked upon your stool. “Well- They are… pretty good.” you reasoned, clearing your throat as a frog seemed to have jumped in and clogged your airways.
People compliment your skill all the time, how is this different? Perhaps it was the endearing smile that stayed stuck to his face, or even the excessively handsome face of his that you couldn’t erase from your mind in this current moment. You don’t even know his name.
An awkward silence gathered between the two of you as, he too, cleared his throat before speaking up. “I finished.” he abruptly stated.
Due to your clouded, fogged memory from the busy day, your mind instantly blanked. “Finished what?” you asked genuinely.
The man almost scoffed in shock—not in a derogatory sense, but one of disbelief more-so—as you displayed your indifference to the interaction of the day earlier. He hadn’t said anything, he didn’t need to. He simply lifted the book you lended to him—your favourite, not to mention—and waved it around playfully.
“The book.” he then stated. Finally it clicked.
“You finished? Already?” you asked in disbelief. You weren’t the fastest of readers, but reading at least one book a day improved your speed. You’ve only ever finished one book in a day twice, and they were short stories, not a whole novel. Albeit, you didn’t have long to read them, but the point still stood.
He nodded, almost proud of this achievement. “Yeah.” he murmured, rubbing the nape of his neck.
“What’d you think?” you inquired gleefully.
A smile that mimicked your own earlier in the day appeared on his face. “Wow, it was… amazing.” he huffed. “I feel like a new person.” he stated with wide eyes—a bit too wide for your liking. Was this sarcasm?
You narrowed your eyes at him, making eye contact with his own catish feature. The movement made him burst to laughter. “I’m sorry!” he chuckled, a hearty laugh that almost made you drop your anger, but you stood strong.
You shook your head, turning around to complete your finishing tasks to close your stall: pack the fruit back into the basket to bring home, seal the bags of flour and sugar, stack the pies trays and tuck them into the barrel on the left. After all, no customers would come by this time now, and you were spent from the day.
“I thought it was peculiar.” His answer wasn’t any better to his previous.
You looked over your shoulder for a second to look at him before resuming your tasks and responding. “Peculiar how?”
He gave some time to contemplate before answering. “It wasn’t quite the love story I expected; why was there no happy ending? Why did he give up? Why did she let him?” He shook his head, although you couldn’t see it. “I felt a multitude of emotions I hadn’t felt in a good while when reading it.”
You smiled to yourself as you packed up the pie trays. “So, not peculiar?”
“…No.” he said with a hum, like he was thinking to himself.
You snickered shortly. “Perhaps, unexplainably life-altering?”
“Okay now, Ms. Baker, I wouldn’t go that far.” He scoffed, leaning onto a barrel you had placed outside of your tent, acting as a makeshift table for those that wanted to try your creations immediately after their purchase.
His name for you struck a chord in you, making you realise something; you still didn’t know each other’s name. At this point, you didn’t feel like the one to initiate that conversation. “Well, Mr. Crust, I would go that far.” you boldly stated. This was your die-hard favourite, you wouldn’t let it live down its name. Even the man before you had to learn to love it.
“Mr. Crust?” he inquired.
You closed the lid to the barrel, and bent down to the floor to grab the basket of ingredients you would take home. “Mmh.” you hummed. “Your suit is the desired colour I look for when baking my pies.”
He nodded along, gaze flickering down to the sleeve of his blazer, understanding the name given to him now. “I see.”
Lifting up the panel blocking customers from entering your tent, you exited your small stall and stood face to face with the rich looking man in front of you, no boundary between the two of you anymore.
“Well then.” you began. “I’ll be off.” you smiled and bowed your head slightly in farewell.
With a regretful look on his face, the man too, now dubbed Mr. Crust, bowed his head as a goodbye.
As you turned to walk the same path you take on your way home, his voice calling out to you prompted you to look over your shoulder at him.
You lifted your eyebrows with interest, a kind smile stuck to your face.
“May I walk you home?”
Nervous. Nervous was all you could use to describe how the night splayed before you.
Maybe ‘confused’, too?
You walked side-by-side with the man who you let borrow your book, and now you allowed him to walk you home? What were you, imperil? You were immortal for heavens sake! Just how mindless were you?
Perhaps it was the hopeful look he had on his face; or the friendly nicknames the two of you gifted each other; or the fact that he, despite maybe being busy, came back to your stall to provide you with a small review of the book you lent him.
Or maybe, you felt that you had played your life a bit too mundane till this very moment.
That was a possibility, too.
But as you stole a glance to the man walking beside you, perhaps there was a chance you found him just a little bit handsome too. Just a possibility.
“What made you create a pie stall, Ms Baker?” he broke the silence.
You pondered on the question for a moment. The real reason you started it was because you had tried practically every job that could be attained by your level of class, never trying to achieve anything higher than what you were currently; sticking out amongst a crowd wasn’t the smartest of ideas. So, starting this pie stall was a good decision, until it became a hit, and you discovered two things.
One: you were quite the baker.
Two: staying out of peoples sight was definitely the better option.
Finally, you landed on a plausible option. “I’m a delightful baker.” you boasted, shrugging your shoulders.
A quiet chuckle resounded from him at your remark. “Well, you know, I still haven’t tried some of your stuff…” he hinted at the absence of a pie in his presence.
You tsked, mumbling under your breath, although the quietness of the night didn’t quite help to muffle your words. “Not my fault you came at the wrong time.”
“Could you repeat that for me?” the man stuck one hand behind his ear and pushed it forward, making his ear stick out from the side of his head. A mischievous smile peeking from his facade entailed that he was playing around.
Rolling your eyes, your pointer finger met with his chest, poking him once gently. “Well, what about you? You want to know all about me, I haven’t had the chance to learn about you.” you finally inquired, finger retreating back to your crossed arms.
“Let’s see.” he thought to himself, head tilted to the sky as if some God would send down some information to help him out. “Well, I work at the law firm a few streets away from the markets.” he began, adding more. “I’m the owner of the business, like you.” he playfully nudged your shoulder.
You shook your head and snickered. “We’re not the same type of business owner.” you reminded.
“Sure we are.” he pressed. “Look how flourishing your business is!”
A fond smile grew on your face as you thought about your growth, hints of red blossoming on your cheeks. “Continue.” you averted the subject.
Beats of silence passed before he carried on. “I don’t have much else to say, the business seems to take up a lot of my life.” he chuckled, but he didn’t seem all that happy. You knew the feeling, becoming so consumed with your work, you forget that you’re a person.
You simply nodded along, the two of you still following the track, before an additional question popped in your head. “If you’re so busy, how did you read my book?”
He smiled. “Glad you asked.” he hummed, reaching into one of his interior pockets and pulling out a small notebook, about the size of your hand you’d guess.
He flipped to the page he wanted to show you and pointed at the writing he had jotted down. “Here.”
You read the words on the paper carefully, following the lines:
7:30am—Open shop and start work
9:45am—Send papers to Jaeyun
IMPORTANT: make sure Sunoo submits the file on the ‘Hong family’
3:20pm—Follow up on the ‘Jin’ case
4pm—Create a sche FINISH BOOK FROM PIE LADY!!! Incredibly important.
“Was it so ‘incredibly important’ that you cleared your schedule, Mr. Crust?” you stifled a laugh.
Instead of bashfully reacting, he stood proud with his decision. “Of course, my lady, why wouldn’t it be a priority?”
You pouted and raised your eyebrows playfully. “I’m unsure, perhaps you had some special crime cases you urgently needed to plow down?” you poked.
He shook his head. “No ma’am.”
From then on, a comfortable silence weighed between the two of you. The remaining walk wasn’t so long, but you (purposefully) walked slower on this night.
Finally, you arrived at your building. A modest one at best. To be honest, it looked quite dreary and not something to show to a man like him, but here you were. Who cared what he thought of your house anyway?
You opened your mouth to bid farewell to the man, but your front door swung open before a sound could peep out.
“You’re home!” a little boy’s voice rang through your ears, before you felt a force rush into your legs and a small ‘oof’ following the movement.
“Yujin!” you lit up at the sight of the boy.
“My lady! You have a child?” the man spoke with bewildered eyes.
Oh right. The man who walked you home.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Oh my word, this is not my son.” you chuckled awkwardly.
You bent down to the height of the little Yujin, patting his head gently before squishing his chubby cheeks. “Yujinie.” you began. “Go inside, it’s cold out here.” you rubbed at his arms to warm them up. “Let me say goodbye to a friend, and I’ll be with you soon.” you smiled at him, watching as he slowly reciprocated it.
He nodded, marching back into the warmly lit house. “Come in soon, noona.” the little boy demanded.
You dismissed him with your hand, urging him to go back inside. He finally did, and closed the door behind him gently.
“My roomate, you could say.” you clarified finally, turning back.
This only made him more confused. “You’re housing a little boy?”
“Oh, not at all. In reality, he’s housing me!” you smiled, not a thought to how confusing your words sounded to the man in front of you.
“Pardon?” he furrowed his eyebrows, almost laughing at how ridiculous you sounded.
“You don’t understand, good sir?” you tilted you head slightly.
“I can’t say that I do my lady.” he leant against a wooden post of your porch, arms crossed comfortably. “Care to elaborate?”
“His mother took me in. I’m living with him and his mother.” you clarified again. “Would you like my date of birth with that?”
He pondered before lifting himself off of the wooden beam. “I wouldn’t mind.” he shrugged.
You shook your head. “You’re a nightmare.”
“You look like my dream.” he flirted easily.
Fighting away the heat creeping your cheeks, you reached for the door handle without breaking eye contact with the man. “Sure.”
He smiled, but another thought seemed to cloud his mind. The man contemplated his choices before bursting out his thoughts.
“Jungwon.” he said.
“Sorry?” your eyes widened in surprise.
“Yang Jungwon. That’s my name.” he repeated, almost breathlessly.
“Yang Jungwon.” you tried his name carefully on your tongue, before nodding. “Suits you.” you smiled.
“And yours?” he tentatively asked.
“L/N Y/N.” you quipped, a small smile displaying itself on your face.
“Pretty.” he mindlessly said.
You shook your head, your body entering the house with your head still barely peeking out. “Good night, Jungwon.”
“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”
With one last departing smile, you closed the door in front of you. A different, wider smile etched itself onto your face.
You hadn’t felt this erratic in a while.
It was exciting.
Amused. Amused was all you could use to describe how the morning after’s breakfast splayed before you.
Yujin folded his arms over one another, his previous curiosity having been crushed to the ground and beaten to a pulp. He had asked a simple question: “Who was that man last night?”.
You gave a simple response: “Not your business.”
Perhaps you could’ve been lighter on the blow.
The little boy sat across from you, awaiting his breakfast from his mother patiently, had puffed his cheeks to the point of bursting and furrowed his brows angrily. Had it been any other annoying little child that was soon to enter their first year of school, they would’ve lashed out.
But this boy just stared deeply into the depths of your soul, hoping to pull the answer out of you spiritually in some way.
“Yujin-ah.” his mother, Yebin, had sternly scolded from the stove she had been situated. One hand was placed on the counter to steady herself, whilst the other stirred the pot of soup carefully. “Don’t pry into people’s lives my pea.”
“But-“
“No.”
Yujin huffed, leaning over the table once coming to terms with this reality. “You win.” he whispered, yet continued venomously. “But I’ll find out someday, noona.” he narrowed his eyes at you, only retreating when a rough call of his name from his mother warned him not to cross the line.
You scrunched your face at the devil’s spawn before you—he was actually the loveliest kid you knew, but that’s beside the point—and stuck your tongue out at him.
Whether it be maternal instincts or your best friend knowing you too well, the call of your name resounding from the place of the stove halted your actions subsequently.
This rivalry was far from over.
After overcoming the initial tension—whatever that may have been between a grown woman and an illiterate child—a steady conversation flowed. You asked about his day previously, he responded with an extensive amount of detail. He asked about taking a pie to his preschool to which you agreed with little hesitation.
He then asked once more about the man of last night to which Yebin had swiftly placed a pot of freshly curated soup in the space between you, unintentionally interrupting her little boy’s pry into your life.
“Let’s eat!” she clapped, a victorious smile across her face as she sat in the seat beside Yujin.
“Thank you for the meal!” You and Yujin graced before you poured Yujin a bowl, then Yebin, then yourself.
Even after living the years you had, manners were never forgotten, no matter how much older you were than the others around you.
After the two said their thanks to you, everyone dug in. As the weather had begun to chill up, this morning was particularly useful in having soup for breakfast, creating a fuzzy feeling inside your chest that could only be described as warmth and comfortability.
As you ate, a flow of conversation followed.
“Jinnie.” Yebin said. His soft hum inclined her to continue. “Is your hanbok ready?”
He nodded swiftly, head about to fall into his soup from how deeply he resonated with the taste of motherly cooking.
“Are you sure?” he hesitated; was he sure?
Yujin dropped his spoon in his bowl, furrowing his eyebrows to jog his memory of his routine. Only to discover he, in fact, did not leave his hanbok out. His silence gave enough of an answer, paired with his eyes that slowly peeked to his left to catch a glimpse of his mother. “Eom-“
“Yujin.” you interrupted. “I’ll get it.” you smiled.
You stood to put your bowl in the sink, not forgetting to say your thanks once more, before heading to where Yujin and Yebin’s room was situated. Your hand on the golden handle pressed down as the wooden barrier granted entrance into the room.
Your eyes immediately landed on the smaller closet that lay next to Yebin’s, a cute symbol of their bond as son and mother.
It was small instances like this, where you wish you could settle down and have a family of your own, much like the two most important to you, who sat in the kitchen as you spoke.
Waving away the thought, you opened Yujin’s wardrobe to pull out a blue and white with a silver trim hanbok, lifting it up to admire it.
You thought of it on the little boy and your heart melted. It was so cute you felt like containing it all and then spontaneously combusting with happiness. Was this baby fever? You shook your head violently, ridding any lingering thoughts of your forgotten dream; you can never have children.
As you emerged from the bedroom, you poked your head from the hallway to peek out. “Unnie!” you called, watching as her head spun in attention.
She was sat drinking a cup of tea with a book in front of her—Yujin had went to wash the dishes—before she focused on your figure, raising her eyebrows in interest.
You pulled the hanbok in her sight to see if it was okay, and she nodded swiftly, gesturing for you to come out of the hallway. “Jin!” she called softly.
Yujin peeked his head past his shoulder once before patting his hands dry, having finished cleaning the last dish. His little feet padded over to his mother, eyes casting down to the blue hanbok in her hand; one of his favourites.
He smiled graciously, taking the garment in his own hands carefully, bowing before taking off into his shared room with his mother.
A hum resonated from you. You had sat down beside Yebin with your head falling gently atop her shoulder. One of her hands raised to pat your head gently. “I know.” she sighed, sympathising with you. She knew about your situation. “Live vicariously through the two of us, my dear. I want you to.” Yebin proclaimed.
Hearing this, a few tears shamelessly welled in your eyes.
One night, you had confided in Yebin after she read through a historic paper dating 50 years prior to the present. A painting of you and some other farm workers varying in age detailed a horrible famine that induced the farming industry’s boom. You weren’t sure how the artist had managed to sneak a shot of you into the painting, but the realistic image of your face was discernible, an almost mirror replica of your own face currently.
With your eyes downcast, your lies of the person in the image being your late grandmother had not pierced through Yebin, her eyes holding a strong wind you had never witnessed from her before. Thus, she inevitably had became aware of your predicament of a curse, vowing to stay by your side until the day she was lowered into the ground with white roses thrown along with her.
“Thank you.” you huffed, voice barely breaking a whisper. “Thank you for staying beside me.” A tear fell and cascaded along the surface of your cheeks, wobbling gently against the edge of your chin before splashing onto your undershirt you wore around the home.
“Aw, baby.” she cooed, lips falling to a frown, as her hand reached to push a strand of hair behind your ear whilst delicately brushing off the path of tears staining your cheeks. “Never think I’d abandon you, ever. I’m here always.” she reprimanded, hand falling to pat your shoulder.
“Eomma! Noona!” Yujin’s voice was heard before he was seen, ushering you to cast away your face from the hallway and wipe the tears that had grazed your face. “Am I decent?” he smiled warmly, giving a slow turn in his hanbok that made him look smaller than he was.
You turned your attention back to the little boy in front of you, hoping that his happiness was enough to distract him of the reddened eyes and lingering sadness you harboured. “Perfect!” you clapped, a genuine smile spreading from ear to ear. “You’re so cute Yuyu.” you asserted, hands reaching out to squish his chubby cheeks.
He frowned and pouted, but made no effort to move from your actions. “Noona.” the words slipped past puffed lips. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, like he wasn’t some four-year-old boy.
“Nothing’s wrong little man.” you reassured, hand moving from cheek to head as you patted his hair gently. “I just yawned before, yesterday still made me tired.” a convincing smile wiped away the boy’s worry for you.
He sighed. “If you say so.”
One more ruffle to his hair left him frowning in disapproval. “Noona!”
Shocked. Shocked was all you could use to describe how the surprise separated by a door splayed before you.
With a tug on the handle and a quick ‘see you later’ to Yebin, you opened the front door with Yujin trailing behind you. Before you could step out from the house, the man leant upon the wooden post of your porch caught your eye before anything.
Your eyebrows furrowed in your state of confusion. “Sir Jungwon?” you tentatively asked, like if your voice was any higher decibel, he would’ve vanished.
His cheeky smile appeared as you came into his vision. “M’lady.” he breathed out. He moved to slowly approach you before stopping abruptly, eyes falling to your legs—well, behind your legs.
“Hello little guy.” he peeped. His eyes cast to your face, rounded eyes seeking an answer.
“I’m dropping him off at the children’s care.” you responded. “Isn’t his hanbok the most adorable?” you quipped, cheeks feeling fuller as your attention laid on the boy behind you.
“Noona…” Yujin grumbled. He huffed and rolled his shoulders. “I’m not cute.”
You tsked, patting his back. “You say that, and then you look like this, Yuyu.” you assured, giving a sarcastic smile that made him shake his head and let out another huff.
No word was said as he left from behind you and started his journey early, leaving the two of you on the porch.
Jungwon chuckled as his eyes followed Yujin, feet inclined to move towards the little boy. “He’s the cutest.” Jungwon reiterated.
A fond smile grew on your face as you walked ahead of Jungwon. “He is.”
The two of you walked side-by-side with one another, not a word spoken to break the silence. For some reason, the silence between you felt comfortable and normal, like you had known each other previously—impossible considering your situation.
Your eyes surveyed your favourite boy in front of you, watching as he kicked at the dirt below his feet. As your eyes followed the direction of Yujin’s downward stare, your eyes widened like saucers at the dirt that had wafted to the hem of his hanbok.
Instinctively, you sped up to Yujin and stopped him from walking any further. “Little boy!” you snapped sternly, eyebrows furrowed as you dusted off his clothing. “Pay attention to what your feet are doing!” you huffed.
Without looking at him, you could tell Yujin pouted his lips. “Noona…” his sad sounding voice made you avert your eyes to his face in concern. Instantly, a cheeky smile grew on his face. “Made you look!” he teased.
Your resolve faded and a smile grew on your own face, not before shaking your head disappointedly. “Ah, Yuyu.” you hummed, still dusting off his hanbok. “What am I going to do with you?”
From where he stood, Jungwon couldn’t help the fond grin that threatened to spread across his face; the sight of you in such a commanding manner with a child made his heart flutter and his stomach flip 180°. You were just the most breathtaking thing to him, and he’d only gotten closer with you the day prior.
“Mr. Yang?” your earnest eyes met his own, eyebrows raising in anticipation. “Did you hear me?” you asked.
Jungwon shook his head to return to reality, the bubbles and glowing aura that fawned behind you started to die down and the dirt of the path returned to vision, he’d really gone and done it now, hadn’t he? “My apologies, could you repeat it please?”
You snorted at his wavering attention. “Do you have anything to wipe this with?” you repeated, head tilting playfully.
“…No, sorry.” he finalised. “I can go look-“
“No, it’s okay.” you reassured, lifting yourself from your squatted position. “I’ll go.”
“But, my lady-“
“Please don’t bother yourself, Sir. Yang. I know this place well, I know exactly where to get what I need.” you reiterated, nodding in assurance.
Whatever Jungwon’s next words were died on his tongue as he simply agreed to your argument with a nod. “Be safe.”
“I won’t be long!” you said, mostly to Yujin. “Stay with him, okay?” you called, pointing an accusatory finger at Jungwon.
He raised his arms in mock surrender to which you snickered at, before turning and heading off to your destination.
Meanwhile, Yujin had squinted his eyes at Jungwon, scrutinising his very being. Upon turning to the boy, Jungwon had caught quite the fright when realising he had already been watched.
“Alright, mister!” Yujin grumbled, hands settling on his hips as he looked upon the man before him, eyes unwavering. “You’re suspicious.” he finally stated. “I don’t know why, but you are.”
Jungwon chuckled. “Okay.” he smiled whilst nodding, moving to squat so that he levelled out with Yujin. “And why do you say that, child?” he asked, genuinely curious on this kid’s perspective.
“You’re hiding something.” Yujin pointed accusingly.
Jungwon widened his eyes in disbelief. “Me?” he pointed to himself before looking around him quickly, surveying his surroundings. “What am I hiding?” he laughed in amusement. What a peculiar kid.
The boy looked side to side before gesturing for Jungwon to get closer. Swiftly, Jungwon grew closer, with his ear pointing towards Yujin. With a hand moving to cup around Jungwon’s ear, Yujin whispered quietly. “You’re interested in Y/N noona.” he finalised, hands falling to his sides after he spoke.
A soft laugh reverberated from Jungwon, his facade of hiding his allure for you starting to crackle. “Well, of course I’m interested in her, I want to be friends with her!” Jungwon tried to salvage his image.
Yujin just shook his head disapprovingly. “No, Mr. Liar.” he crossed his arms. “I mean, you want to court her, don’t you?” he raised an eyebrow, lips thinning.
If Jungwon were honest, the boy stood before him looked quite cunning. Fearless, even. He envied him.
“Why do you say that?” Jungwon questioned.
Yujin tsked. “I can just tell.” he hummed. “By the way, I’m her favourite, so if you want to try and take her attention, just know I’m first.” he whisked his head away from Jungwon quickly, chest puffed confidently.
Jungwon smirked. “Should we make this a competition then?” he entertained this idea, hand stuck out to shake the little boy’s own.
Peeking at the man through the slit of his eye, Yujin slid his own, smaller hand into Jungwon’s, shaking softly in agreement.
“Deal.” he contested.
“Deal.” Jungwon smiled fondly.
The boy was quite a cute kid, but currently, they were rivals. Neck to neck this battle would be.
Before Jungwon and Yujin could break both their clasped hands and intense stares between each other—it was mostly Yujin’s childish, yet cunning stare, and Jungwon’s amused one—you had arrived to witness the unknown chaos ensuing in front of you. “Have you two made friends?” you questioned, curious on whatever they were plotting.
They side-glanced at each other, until Yujin spoke for the both of them. “You could say that.” he shrugged.
Your eyes narrowed at them. “Were you guys bad-mouthing me? That’s quite rude you know.” you frowned, fawning an upset expression.
They just laughed at you. Maybe they were?
“My lady.” Jungwon smiled, hand reaching out to grasp your bicep. “You are one to be talked up about, not down.” he reassured, gently gesturing for you to walk alongside him.
You rolled your eyes. “Mmh, sure then.” you pursed your lips, averting your gaze. How can he say such things so… casually?
After you cleaned off the dirt from Yujin’s hanbok—which would most definitely need to be washed as soon as possible once he gets home—yourself and Jungwon walked on either side of the boy, holding his hands and surveying how he dragged his feet.
Each time he’d even barely graze the floor, you’d tug at his hand in your grasp, widening your eyes threateningly at him. And each time you’d do so, he’d meet you with a pout of his lips, almost tempting you to drop the stern act.
This continued until, finally, the bunch of you made it to the children’s care, spotting the normal lady that took care of the kids waiting at the front gate. She smiled warmly at you, hand outstretched to usher Yujin in. “Hello, cutie!” she gushed, cheeks becoming full with her smile. “I’m happy to see you once more, Yujin-ie.”
Her hand reached to pat his head to which Yujin smiled politely. “You too, Ms. Guk.” he bowed before rushing inside the house to meet his friends.
Boyoung, or Ms. Guk, turned to you with a smile. “It’s always a pleasure seeing you as well, Y/N.” she greeted, eyes drifting to the man beside you. “And this is…?”
Your eyes widened as she gestured to Jungwon. “Uh-“
“Her friend.” he smiled, hand reaching to shake with Boyoung’s. “I’m Y/N’s friend.” he reiterated.
As your eyes followed the path from his plump cheeks, to his arm which reached towards Boyoung, and finally landing on the rosiness settling upon her face as she too outstretched her own hand, you found yourself internally seething. He looks so happy? And so does she? And why does that make me angry?
A very abrupt and short conversation flowed between them, one that went unheard by your ears as your own thoughts clouded your consciousness. Only until Jungwon spoke up, were you brought from your internal turmoil. “Did you hear me?” he questioned, the friendly smile he seemed to wear constantly broke through your vision.
“Sorry?” you shook your head, eyes peering into his as you slowly focused back to reality.
He smiled gently at your confusion, finding your dazed and lost face amusing. “Let’s go.” he muttered, slightly above a whisper.
You found yourself nodding absentmindedly, turning to Boyoung to bid farewell.
“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” she waved. Once Jungwon turned away from her, she mouthed to you bring him with you and pointed towards Jungwon’s back, to which you politely smiled and nodded, knowing that if he decided to escort you again tomorrow, her wishes would be met.
You waved again before turning away, huffing once you started walking away from the centre.
“Penny for your thoughts?” his voice spoke gently, breaking the silence as his head tilted towards you, a smile that he couldn’t seem to wipe off gracing his face.
Air left your nose briefly as you snickered. “No thoughts, kind sir.” you concluded.
Jungwon retreated, nodding whilst pursing his lips. “Okay… sure. I’ll pretend I believe you.” he jabbed, hands conjoining behind his back.
You tsked, hand raising to slap his bicep playfully. “I’m not lying.” you prodded, arms moving to cross one another. You didn’t miss the way he hissed and rubbed at his arm.
“You’re so aggressive.” he sneered, though the playful smirk that played on his lips proved the absence of any anger.
“I’m not.”
“Sure.”
The both of you laughed off the jeers, walking alongside each other peacefully with an understanding silence settling. You casually admired the scenery, tall trees and lush bushes surrounding the dirt path you walked. Straight ahead were the stalls in which your specific pie stall was situated. It wouldn’t take longer than five minutes to arrive.
So, with the calm silence between you, you allowed yourself to soak in the ambience. It was a clear forecast, no cloud in sight, yet it wasn’t hot nor humid, a perfect temperature with a steady breeze. With the trees exponential height, the sun was covered, only patches of light littering through.
Though, this appreciation for nature overclouded your awareness, as you hadn’t caught Jungwon’s eyes sneakily surveying the area before looking at you in his peripherals. Upon seeing your distracted attention, he allowed himself to soak in the sight of you. You in all your glory. You in an almost angelic state. You in your most zen.
If he were honest, he’d known about you for a while. Maybe three months prior to your recent interaction was the first time he saw you.
The solitude you had found on this path with him countered the concentrated and intense energy you radiated from the little beige stall you called work. With the combination of baking inside the stall, and plastering a sign to tell customers you were waiting for your goods at the community hall, you were truly in your element.
He hadn’t only witnessed the times in which you were at a focused pace. He also watched as you flicked through pages of books you had begun reading, kindly declining any lingering customers and informing them to come at a different time later in the day as you had given yourself time for a break.
He admired your work ethic, yet balance with your own wellbeing. He believed you were quite wise beyond your years despite your young appearance.
He admired how you kept a consistent attitude to each of your customers, no matter how difficult or challenging they made your work.
He admired how hard-working you were, consistently keeping up the quality of your goods with no error—evident in each customers reaction whenever they take a bite, and, yes, he surveys them too.
And in the turn of your head as you glanced in his direction, eyes meeting his earnest ones abruptly, the world seemed to pause on its axis to solidify the moment. With interlocked gazes, you flashed a confused smile, a loose chuckle falling from your lips as you caught him staring. “What is it? Do I not look good?” you inquired, maintaining the eye-contact between you two.
Jungwon was almost breathless. Not look good? Not look good? You look heaven-sent! What do you mean ‘not look good’?; is what he wanted to scream at you, instead he opted for a clearing of his throat. “Of course not, there was a bug in your hair, I was just observing it.”
At the mention of a bug, your eyes widened. “A bug?! Where?!” you ducked, dusting off your head repetitively to rid yourself of the creature. “Is it gone?!” you asked hurriedly.
He swiped your hair twice, then brushed his hands together to dust them off before tucking them into his pockets. “Yes, it flew away.” he finalised.
You huffed a relieved sigh. “Thank God.” you breathed, hand falling against your chest flatly, soothing your pounding heart. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” you tsked, annoyance settling in as you registered a bug having been in your hair.
Jungwon smirked, not even looking in your general direction any longer. “If I did, I wouldn’t have gotten that show then.” he shrugged.
You deadpanned him before raising your hand jokingly to hit his arm.
He dashed away from you quickly, avoiding the threat of your hand. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he chanted, though the amused grin never left his face.
Your annoyed expression remained as you sneered at him, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth like an agitated mother.
Before any teasing could pursue, you had escaped the trail and made it to the clearing of the markets. You and Jungwon walked towards your stall together, with you turning towards him once you arrived to bid your goodbyes.
Despite not wanting to show your reluctance, you felt as though you had been a bit obvious. Obvious with the way you looked at him expectantly when you had arrived, almost wishing he’d hang around with you. Obvious with the furrow of your eyebrows when he gave you that same kind smile he always seemed to wear. Obvious with how you hesitantly lifted your hand to wave as he walked away backwards. And obvious with the sigh that escaped your lips as he finally turned away—thankfully Yang Jungwon was oblivious.
You asked yourself once more; why were you upset?
The two of you had only began speaking the day prior, how had he charmed his way through already?
As you shook your head, clearing the thoughts from your mind, you lifted the wooden divider to your stall once more and started a days work.
The same, repetitive routine that you followed each day to make a living. You weren’t ungrateful, but you wish that your past expeditions allowed for some free time and extra currency.
Alas, here you were selling pies.
A long day it would be.
Selling pies.
Alone.
With no Jungwon.
A long day truly.
Dejected. Dejected was all you could use to describe how the emotions caused by an absent Jungwon splayed before you.
Maybe ‘disappointed’, too?
It was nearing midday and your break was fast approaching, which meant you’d have to get a pie delivered to Yujin’s care centre soon. And even with the surplus of customers, although not different from any other day, somehow after meeting the cat-eyed man, you developed a longing for him.
How silly.
You had lived for a remarkable amount of years and here you were worrying for a man you’d soon outlive.
Silly and naive.
You blinked away the thoughts wracking your mind, the idea of him a distraction to your routine.
That’s right, he ruined your routine. Your articulate, monotone, and consistent routine.
But, was that something you wanted? After all, you craved for a change in your life, perhaps this is what you needed?
“Ma’am!” a customer called for your attention, snapping you out of your inner monologue.
Your eyes widened in surprise. “My apologies!” you dusted off your hands on your apron. “How may I help you?” you gave a light smile to the man across from you.
He, however, did not reciprocate. Instead he rolled his eyes before staring at you viciously, pupils burning holes into your very being. “Any pies left?” he inquired, eyebrow raised impatiently.
You thinned out your smile, looking at him blankly rather than kindly—he wasn’t deserving of your energy it seemed. You turned behind you, seeing only ingredients and no pies. If you had made one now, it would seep far into your much needed break. “Sorry, no.” you apologised. “I’ll be going on a break in two minutes, sir.”
He scoffed. “Can’t ya make one?” he challenged.
In response, you gave a sarcastic smile, one that looked so sweet that it’d rot your teeth. “Unless I were a witch who could speed up time, I’ve nothin’ for you.” you shot back. How did he expect you to whip up a pie like it was no one’s business? It took time to create and perfect each good you created, especially your best selling pies. No way would you sacrifice your highly curated and delicious pie reputation just to meet this man’s needs.
With another roll of his eyes he peered at his watch. “How long ‘till you’re back?” he inquired, hand falling to rest on his hip.
“I’ll say about half an hour.” you proposed. “I’ll have to drop something off before I can come back here.”
He groaned, mumbling under his breath. “Does she think I have all the time in the world?” he huffed irritably.
Again, you shot an overly kind smile at him. “If you have no time today, come tomorrow.” you finalised. “I’m open everyday, sir.”
“Yeah, yeah.” he shook his head. “I’ll be back then.” he concluded.
Normally when you hear those words, your heart swells with pride, but now you only felt dread for the future. “Okay, sir. I’ll be off now.”
Turning around, you untied your apron and hung it upon your coat rack before grabbing the already bundled pie you were going to bring to Yujin.
Once you gathered the bundle in your arms, you turned to leave the stall, asking one of your neighbouring stall owners to watch over in your absence, to which they agreed.
You breathed a sigh of relief, that man having been the cherry on top to your tiring afternoon.
Just when you believed you were free, you heard his voice again. “Excuse me, Ms?” his voice caused a shudder to rush down your back.
You peered past your shoulder before turning to look at him fully. “Yes?”
He pointed at the bundle in your arms, finger jutted in accusation. “Is that a pie?” he asked.
In your tent, you hadn’t realised how he seemed to tower over you, his height matching Jungwon’s you assumed. This factor caused you to cower backwards slightly, especially as he ushered closer.
“Yes, I’m delivering it to someone.” you spoke truthfully.
He didn’t like that. “So, you tell me there’s no stock, and yet, here you are, with the stock in your hands? I have gold, don’t you want it?” he asked, taking steps closer towards you.
Your friendly demeanour began to falter as it started to fade into fear. “I’m sorry, sir, but this is important. I must gift it.” you pleaded. “I’m reminding you once more that you can come again later today or tomorrow.”
He huffed, eyebrows furrowing as he crossed his arms over one another. “Sure.” he chuckled, feet moving towards you slowly. “But, I want one now.”
The commotion the man created had caused a small crowd to form, whispers gathering amongst onlookers. A majority of them being customers, ones you had served previously, some were workers that had come to grab a bite at the stalls, and others walked ahead, ignoring the whole ordeal.
But one person, entering the clearing of the stalls, spotted you and the man’s disagreement. His eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on you, before looking amongst the crowd. No one was going to help you? He saw the difference in stature between the man and you, no way were you getting out of there unharmed if the guy made a move.
Despite leaving the law firm on his break and coming to the market’s to eat at his favourite stall, he had a new objective. Help you.
He changed his direction from the stall he was headed to, and charged over to the crowd urgently. His height was enough to squeeze through the small group of onlookers—as they looked back to curse whoever was pushing past them, they widened their eyes at the height difference.
“Hey!” he bellowed, emerging from the crowd. He moved to stand between you and the man, covering you from the enraged customer. “What do you think you’re doing? Bothering a young lady?” he dared. He easily exceeded the man, eyes looking down towards him.
But the man held his ground. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re interrupting our conversation here!” he fired back.
The taller guy laughed. “Conversation, or harassment? I think one outweighs the other here.” he hummed. “Defending yourself is futile here, if I were honest with you.” he countered.
The man scoffed, shaking his head as he backed up. “I’ll be back!” he suddenly said with a playful voice, peering past the man who was covering you and flashing a menacing smile.
You shuddered, thoughts of closing your stall just to avoid him began to bubble in your conscience.
“Are you alright?” the male in front of you questioned genuinely. His clothing was oddly similar to the one Jungwon had worn the day before, though his black framed glasses outlined his razor sharp eyes, a mole dotted under one of his eyes, and another on his chin.
You breathed out in relief. “Yes, thank you so much. How can I repay you?” you reached into your pocket for some gold to hand over as payment.
His hands reached out to stop yours from grabbing anything. “Please, you don’t have to give me anything.” he smiled graciously.
You shook your head in disapproval. “No, no, you deserve something in return.” you glanced up at him.
He chuckled at your hastiness. “Ms, it’s okay.” he hummed.
Sighing, you pursed your lips. “I feel bad though.”
He, too, exhaled, eyes casting downward in thought. “Here.” he prompted. “I’ll escort you to wherever you’re heading so no big, angry wolves come pouncing on you again.” he winked.
You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re kidding, what sort of payment is that?”
He smiled. “One that I’m willing to receive.”
You nodded in approval. “Smooth, Mr…?”
“Riki. Nishimura Riki. Or you can call me Ni-ki alternatively.” he smiled gently, hands tucking into his pockets.
“Ni-ki.” you hummed. “Alright then, thank you, Sir Riki.” you grinned, a genuine, thankful grin. “I’m Y/N for reference.”
He smiled back. “My pleasure, Y/N.” his hands reached to grab your bundle. “Let me hold that for you.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
Intrigued. Intrigued was all you could use to describe how Riki’s personality splayed before you.
He was funny. Seriously funny.
Not a minute went by before he made you laugh, again.
The two of you had just arrived to deliver the pie to Yujin’s daycare, in which Riki was confused too.
“You have a child?” he asked, eyebrows raised in suspicion.
You chuckled to yourself. “No, sir, I do not.” you shook your head, finally arriving at the gate.
“Yujin!” you called from the gate, bundle still in the arms of the man next to you.
The door burst open and a gleeful looking boy came sprinting out. “Noona!” he called happily, his expression a ray of sunshine that cleared the negativity of earlier. As he approached, he looked to Ni-ki beside you, a perplexed furrow of his eyebrows indicated his confusion. “Who did you bring this time?” he poked at you, both physically and teasingly.
You rolled your eyes. “This is Ni-ki.” He waved as you gestured towards him. “He helped me with a complication at work.” you thinly smiled.
He nodded to himself. “Ahh!” he agreed. “Complykatson.” His arms crossed over one another. Perhaps this kid had an old man’s soul within him.
Before you forgot, you turned to Riki. “Here, Yujin.” You handed the pie over to him, making sure his little clammy hands secured the bundle safely. “Don’t have it all to yourself! Share with the others!” you demanded, hand pointed accusingly at him.
“I won’t! Gosh.” he pouted. You smiled fondly at him, giving his head a pat before he kissed your cheek when you leant down. “Have fun at work!” he bellowed, bowing his head politely at both you and Riki since his hands were too occupied to wave.
The two of you waved at him, waiting till the door closed behind him once he walked back inside.
You sighed to yourself contently. Despite the nuances of earlier that day, the smile that spread across your favourite boy’s face was priceless; no gold could buy that smile.
You turned to Riki, a smile sat warmly across your face. “Let’s head back now.” you stated, hands conjoining behind your back in a stroll-like posture.
He nodded. “This escort mission was quite calming, I must say.”
“It’s a lovely day today, must be that.”
He hummed, his head turning to you before he asked a simple question. “Do you deal with those sorts of people a lot?” he asked sincerely, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
With a simple huff, you chuckled pitifully. “Yes, but the ones that approach me after I’ve said we had no more products don’t happen as often. This one was probably the third time its occurred.” You reminisced to the times prior.
Ni-ki shook his head disapprovingly. “You should really get an additional worker with you.”
You shrugged. “I was looking into it, but there’s no one I know with that much free time or willingness to indulge in that sort of work.”
A silence settled between the two of you; Ni-ki gathered his thoughts while you stared at the ground beneath your feet.
Suddenly, he cleared his throat after a brief moment. “Well, you know, I could…” he trailed off, eyes wondering.
“…You could?”
“I could-“
“Y/N?” a familiar voice resounded in front of you.
You hadn’t even realised whilst chatting with Ni-ki, but you had already found yourselves at the heart of the markets, your stall only a handful of steps away.
As your attention switched from Riki to the voice, your eyes widened.
The man you had been wanting to see all day, the one who left you dazed for the hours you worked till now, the one who had been implanted in your brain since he took you to work this morning.
“Hyung?” Ni-ki spoke beside you. Hyung?
“You know each other?” You looked to Ni-ki in surprise, gaze switching between the two men.
“Mmh.” Ni-ki hummed, a smile across his face as he connected the dots. So this is what Jungwon was busy doing. He laughed to himself. “We work at the same law firm.” he clarified.
“Do you even have work?” you asked suspiciously. “Why are you both here, shouldn’t you be busy?” you pressed, stepping toward Jungwon with your hands crossed over another.
“Well, you see, I… cleared my afternoon.” he spoke sheepishly as he cleared his throat, your eyes widening at the prospect.
Your playful demeanour dropped as you looked at him. “You what?” A deadpan look settled on your expression.
Jungwon’s gaze looked behind you at Riki for a second before he looked at you. “I wanted to stay with you.” he responded in a near whisper.
“Are you serious?” you scoffed in disbelief, but a ghost of a smile stayed on your face.
“Yes… I finished all my work by lunchtime.” he stated as if it were normal to cram a days work within five hours or so. Riki laughed to himself briefly, averting Jungwon’s attention to his younger friend as he scrutinised him. “What is so funny to you?”
He shook his head disappointedly, but playfully. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Ni-ki teased, a smug grin settling on his face. He walked past you to whisper into Jungwon’s ear. “Sunghoon hyung is gonna hear all about this.” He laughed as he backed away, whilst Jungwon looked bewildered.
You were lost as to what happened. “What? What did you say Riki?” you tugged at his shoulder. “Why does Jungwon look like he saw a ghost?” you inquired, your confusion evident.
He simply laughed it off, waving his hand to dismiss your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not about you.” he blatantly lied, but you didn’t know that.
“Well… I still want to know.” you spoke sadly, hoping to garner sympathy points. “Can you tell me?”
“Gladly! Jungwon hyung-“
“Zip it.” Jungwon covered Ni-ki’s mouth. He cleared his throat before taking his hand off. “I believe you have work to do.” he spoke sternly, straightening out his blazer.
Ni-ki scoffed. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Yang.” he replied teasingly, tongue sticking out to annoy Jungwon.
Jungwon sneered at him, hand gesturing for him to leave, to which Ni-ki obliged. “Bye Y/N.” he patted your shoulder.
Your hand reached for his wrist which slipped through your grasp as he turned. “But, what were you talking about?” you attempted to get last minute information.
“Bye Ni-ki!” Jungwon interrupted, waving off Ni-ki sarcastically.
The younger mouthed the name Sunghoon hyung as he looked behind his shoulder before going to buy the food he wanted initially.
“What? What?” you were desperate to understand the joke, shaking Jungwon’s shoulder. “Tell me!”
Jungwon tsked, shrugging away your hand as he headed to your stall. “So! Ms. L/N, you have an extra worker for the afternoon.” he smiled, swiftly switching topics. His tooth-rotting grin tempted you into dropping your curiosity.
“Oh? And what do you know about baking pies Mr. Jungwon?” you teased, a smirk growing on your face as you walked closer to your stall and thereby approaching Jungwon.
He watched as you lifted the wooden board to the tent, grabbing it after you had already entered and stepping into the area. “Nothing!” He placed the board down gently, eyes wandering around the interior of your work. “That’s why you’ll teach me.” You pursed your lips at the wink he sent your way as you turned to grab the apron you had left and threw it over his head.
“Sir. Yang.” you started, your hands resting near his neck as you tightened the neck strap securely so it was neither loose nor tight, just right. You maintained eye contact as your hands traveled down to his waist, wrapping your arms to secure the waist strap too, though in the process you practically caged him in a hug. “Just don’t interfere with me, when I’m working behind you, okay?” You tightened the strap with finality, backing away as you looked to him innocently. Perhaps you were flirting, but perhaps he wouldn’t notice.
But notice he did. Jungwon looked at you with a stunned expression before he sputtered out. “C-could you repeat that for me please?” Your effect on him adamant in his actions, but you were blind to it, somewhat.
You smiled gently, teasingly, before patting his shoulder and turning to the back station. “Mind the till, would you?”
“Could you just-“
“First rule~!” you sang, finger pointed at him without your gaze turning back.
He huffed before trying again. “But I-“
“Ey!” you tsked, turning to him. Although you hadn’t even started baking yet, it was fun to tease the man.
He pouted. “You haven’t even started!” You deadpanned him before gesturing him to go on. “Could I suggest a payment?”
You scoffed. “You haven’t even worked yet and you’re already suggesting what I should pay you?”
“It’s simple.” he countered.
You contemplated before gesturing him to continue again.
“Can I get a pie at the end of the day?” A smile that gleamed upon his face appeared, one that was hard to deny.
“Ey~ won’t that be unhealthy? You’ll get fat by the end of the month, Mr. Yang!” you tried to reason with the man.
Jungwon turned away from you, mumbling to himself quietly. “It’s either I get fat from the pies or her…” He reached for the left side of his chest, gripping onto his shirt tightly.
His heart ached.
The man was in love.
After that stunt you pulled with the apron, how could he not be? He was a grown man and he allowed you to take control of him so easily, he was absolutely all yours. You just didn’t know yet.
Drained. Drained was all you could use to describe how your tiring work day splayed before you.
Perhaps it was the influx of female customers at your store—which definitely had nothing to do with Jungwon’s appearance.
Perhaps it was the simmering heat that magically, or better yet unexplainably, approached on the fall day, allowing droplets of sweat to formulate around the crevices of your neck, arms, and every body part that you had covered meticulously in belief of a colder day. It was an odd turn of events.
Or, perhaps it was the additional hand that made your cramped work space feel exponentially smaller than it was. Jungwon wasn’t a big guy. He was lean, yet still strong. Taller than you, but not enough that it strained your neck to look at him.
So, the suffocating air in your quaint stall couldn’t have been from him? Or was it the both of you? Or even a combination of that and the heat? Maybe the women too? Great heavens, why were they still lingering around?!
“Will you be here permanently?” A beautiful young lady, in all her poise and elegance, flashed a smile that could be written in history books for being so unrealistically gorgeous. Her hair cascaded from her scalp to her collarbone perfectly, as if no effort had been taken into her perfected appearance. Did she look this perfect because she was, or did the envy that began to transpire within you simply blow this one over? You didn’t know which option you preferred.
The girl next to her, presumably her friend with the closeness between the two, piqued up with a question too, standing on her tip-toes and giving another world-class smile. Was there some school that taught this? “If so, we’ll visit everyday!” She interlinked one of her arms with the girl beside her and the two bumped their shoulders against the other gently before, once again, giving an effortlessly curated grin.
This whole time, you had been leaning against the bench where you make your pies, as the remaining batch you had made was the last, and it was currently cooking in the communal centre.
Unknowingly, your arms had crossed and a look familiar to a scowl settled upon your expression. As soon as you felt the creases and tension in your face, you immediately dropped it, opting for a neutral one instead.
Within this time, Jungwon had responded. “I will not be here permanently.” This immediately sent a frown to both of the girls’ faces, but he continued. “But, I’ll come around occasionally when she needs the extra hand.” He gestured with his head towards you, a fond look appearing on his face, one you didn’t catch. “She’s a great boss you know? And baker too!” he praised, to which the two girls just giggled awkwardly, before the first girl spoke up again.
“Well then, whenever you do work, don’t hesitate to let us know.” She whispered the last part with a hand covering one side of her mouth. She reached into her small purse, the ones that all those rich people have, and handed Jungwon a small note. The paper itself looked like it cost more than your entire life—which was a lot. “You’ll find us here.” she finalised, throwing a coy wave to which the other girl followed, before they both walked away.
A sigh of relief escaped you. What a devastatingly unpleasant feeling it was to watch that interaction. Not because of any romantic feelings or anything. No. You don’t feel those types of emotions. You aren’t allowed to, nor are you ever going to. This was not a romantic feeling. Surely, it was just a fleeting admiration, right? Jungwon will be in the past just like all the other ‘lives’ you’ve lived in your time.
Right.
“Y/N.” The man had spun around, his conversation with the two ladies having already ended. “You seem to not be alright, do you want me to take over?” His eyebrows raised in concern, his expression worrisome as he raked over your figure; very spaced out and unfocused.
You almost scoffed with laughter at his suggestion. “No, sir. I’m just swell, I can’t imagine having you take over my stall, Mr. Lawyer.” you teased, the smile that seemed to always pop up on your face whenever you were around Jungwon appeared.
Jungwon diverted his attention to the floor and chuckled abashedly. “Got me there…” He rubbed the back of his neck.
You looked at him longingly before abruptly interrupting the brief silence. “Care to take out some pies?” you asked.
“Could a lawyer take on that responsibility?” he joked with you, meeting your gaze.
You giggled at his remark. “Wow, lawyers have a sense of humour?” Your expression was one of sarcasm, eyes blown wide and jaw dropped in shock.
He shook his head at you, but his smile remained. “Come on Missy.” he huffed, hand raising to pat your head. He ruffled your hair playfully to which you swatted away his hands. He dodged your hits as he made his escape. “Bakers are so aggressive!” he teased, lifting the board for you to leave your tent as well.
As you stepped out of the stall, you clicked your tongue at him in annoyance. “I’m not aggressive, you just get on my nerves.”
He hummed. “Really? What have I done to you that warrants this behaviour?”
You thought back to the women—an unusual amount of women to visit your stall in retrospect—and decided to not mention it, keeping your silence as an answer.
“Nothing?” he piqued with an eyebrow raise. His arm fell to rest against your shoulders casually, a very, no, extremely suggestive gesture in such a public setting. The two of you have only just made friends (?) and the market still had quite a few shoppers around.
Hastily, you shrugged off his arm and crossed your own over each other, making sure to create a subtle distance between the two of you.
“Sorry.” Jungwon mumbled, ashamed of himself for being so obvious. Couldn’t he take this slow?
You shook your head. “Don’t worry.” A smile graced your face as you looked to him, one that wiped away the worry of making you feel uncomfortable that Jungwon may have had. “I just… don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” you reassured him.
A brief silence followed before he spoke up. “What if I want people to misunderstand?” His eyes met yours in what felt like the most intense eye contact you had ever experienced. You could feel the bolts of electricity connecting your pupils to his. Your mind short-circuited and you barely stuttered out a response.
“S-sorry?” You wanted a replay of what he had just said. Had you misheard?
Redness crept up his cheeks as he averted his eyes from staring into yours, fearing he may lose himself in the process. “You heard me.” he murmured to himself quietly.
You didn’t ask any further questions. You didn’t want to. This interaction should never have happened. You and Jungwon interlinking should never have happened.
And yet, you let yourself feel. Feel how he makes your emotions run wild. Feel how a mere glance from him triggers a reaction for your heart to beat erratically. But in doing so, you also allowed yourself to feel the consequences of your actions. You felt extra protective over Jungwon. You felt an ache in your heart when he wasn’t with you. And worst of all, you felt love. The scariest consequence of them all.
Safe to say, the walk to the community centre had a worse outcome than silence, it was equally as awkward.
On edge. On edge was all you could use to describe how the act of closing your shop splayed before you.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t the act of closing your shop, per se, but the man who still stuck around to close the shop with you. Unsettlingly strange it was to have been so hung up on Yang Jungwon, just for any and all emotions you had for him to fly out the window and be replaced with uttermost confusion. Did what he say meant he liked you too? Was he joking with you? Are your heart strings being tugged by a jerk?
“Y/N-“
“Here’s your pie, Mr. Yang.” you interrupted, words a bit more stiff than the casual air you would tend to use around him.
Slowly, Jungwon grabbed the pie with caution, eyes peering into your astray ones that couldn’t seem to look at him. “Allow me to escort you home.” he suggested, a plea for your attention.
But you wouldn’t have a bar of it. You needed to sort your thoughts. “It’s alright, Sir.” you smiled, finally looking at him just to turn away again. “I’ll be off.” you nodded your head in farewell before heading in the direction towards your home. You hadn’t spared him a glance, the act of looking back would have made it harder to walk away.
You continued the path towards the trail where you and Jungwon had come from earlier, almost exiting the clearing of stalls before a rush of steps coaxed you into looking at the commotion.
There wasn’t much to look at though as Jungwon had pulled up right next to you, straightening his blazer and tie before clearing his throat. He looked to your perplexed stare and just shrugged. “I can’t let a pretty lady like you walk home alone now, can I?” he questioned, to which you huffed.
“I can handle my own…” you pouted and looked away from Jungwon, the sight of his sculpted face too overwhelming to look at.
He simply nodded, but you didn’t see that, before he spoke up once more. “Sure… you don’t think the people in the market talking about ‘the pie lady’ being harassed in the afternoon was… you, right?” he pondered sarcastically, his lip jutted in faux curiosity and eyebrows furrowed just as such.
Your mouth opened to speak, but no sound left. You were rendered speechless until you uttered out a meek response. “That could’ve been… the other pie lady…”
Your reply only made him laugh. “And what other infamous pie lady is there?” Again, you were left collecting your thoughts, thinking of a way to escape this hurdle. When your reply came with nothing, Jungwon hummed. Abruptly, he patted your head gently, delicately. “I’m glad you’re safe now.” he hummed, concluding his teasing.
You reciprocated with a hum of your own. “Yeah, it’s really thanks to Riki. If he hadn’t shown his generosity, I don’t think anyone would have.” You shrugged at the thought, mind reeling back to the thought of the tall, sleek man.
Immediately at the prospect, Jungwon stiffened. “Oh? So it was Ni-ki who helped you?” he pursed his lips whilst nodding to himself. A brief thought of arriving sooner and the possibility that he would have been the one at your stead instead conjured in his brain, before your reply stripped him of his thoughts.
“And I’m glad it was.” you murmured. “How lucky am I to have had a lawyer as the person to stand up for me. I didn’t even pay!” you chuckled, reminiscing to the peculiar afternoon.
Jungwon grumbled. “He’s not even a proper lawyer yet…”
You shook your head with a smile grazing your lips. “Lawyer or not, he knew what words to say and what would get the man to back off. Either that or the other guy was intimidated by Riki’s height. Have you seen that boy?” Your eyes widened as you grasped the height difference between you and the younger man. The thought made you think to Yujin and the fact that he’d too outgrow you.
He scoffed at the way you were talking about Riki. “I’d think you just like tall men at this point.” he pouted, eyes casting to the floor as he kicked the rubble beneath him. Whether he intended you to hear it or not, you pretended like the words hadn’t even left his lips, opting to steer the conversation away.
“What’s your work like?” you inquired, curious as to what a day’s work entailed—and how he completed it all to work alongside you, though he didn’t need to know that.
Jungwon didn’t need much time to think until he replied. “You’d think it’d be busier than it is, but not much crime has happened to necessarily bring us in. Obviously there’s still crime, just no big cases of it.” He shrugged his shoulders conclusively. “Oh! And there is seven of us working, so the work that does happen is spread amongst us. A lot of our time is spent processing cases.”
You nodded, a smile forming on your lips. “Sounds fun, having such a big group of people to always be around. Are you guys friends?”
He nodded fondly. “Best of friends, I’d say.” he added.
At that, you snorted out a laugh. “That makes me want to have a partner.”
Jungwon turned to you with wide eyes. “Partner?!”
You looked to him in his panic. “Yes? Like… work partner? What were you thinking of?” you chuckled.
Jungwon cleared his throat before turning away. “N-nothing. I’m just interested in becoming your partner- Work partner!” he corrected himself, eyes darting to your figure to see if you caught his slip-up.
You thought over the idea before nodding. “That’d be nice actually… but you’re the owner of your law firm, wouldn’t that be difficult?”
“Right…” he physically shrunk into himself, thoughts of working alongside you a figment of his imagination, that is until he thought of a solution. “Hold on. There’s seven of us right?”
“As I’ve heard, yes.”
“How about one of us take each day of the week?” he suggested.
Once again, you played the idea in your mind and nodded when it worked in your head. “That’d be nice, actual-“
“Wait!” He put a hand up, even stopping in his tracks for some sort of dramatic effect—but you think it’s just so he can collect his thoughts. “No, erase that idea.” He shook his head, moving forward with a hand on his chin thoughtfully. His own jealousy and possesion over you willed him away from the option.
You huffed at his irrational behaviour. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Forget I said what I just said.” he stated calmly. He let a few more ideas run in his brain before his eyes lit up and he clicked his fingers. “Or—now hear me out—I transfer ownership to Heeseung hyung?” He turned to you with a beaming smile, one that looked as ridiculous as the idea he just spurted out.
You gazed at him in disbelief before bursting into a fit of laughter. “You’re funny Sir. Yang! Too funny, I must give credit to that joke. Whew!” You shook your head as you chuckled to yourself, until you heard no laughter on his end. “Why aren’t you laughing?”
Jungwon looked into your eyes then turned away, scratching his head in frustration. He couldn’t tell you that he was willing to do all of that just to stay by your side, he’d sound crazy. But the man had been in love ever since he studied the charisma of your work ethic, and then eventually, you.
He knew one day he’d tell you how he felt. Maybe right now. Maybe the next day. Maybe within the week. Maybe this month. What he knew, was that he couldn’t back out. He’d have to continually follow through or else he may lose your interest.
With your gaze and attention on him, he felt complacent, not quite complete—that would only happen when he could safely call himself ‘yours’—but he understood that what he wanted, what he needed… was you. Even if just for a bit he could have you, he’d grasp at it. And even then, he’d want to steal just a smidge more time to stay with you, since you were so utterly alluring to him.
Jungwon was in the trenches. But he dug out this path for himself, and it was his responsibility to find his way safely to you.
"I wasn't kidding around, Y/n." he finally mustered, his tone so serious it left you dazed for a short moment.
The stoic look to his face and the complicated words that left his mouth were enough to push you over the edge of your jumbled emotions. The tone in which Jungwon had set ran a shiver down your spine. "Jungwon." you began as you finalised your thoughts. "You know that's a reckless decision, right?"
Perchance, you could say that living for such a substantial amount of years, decades even, made you wiser, but in this moment with a considerably fleeting romance (for you anyway), you weren't quite as educated as you wanted to be.
How could love be so unpredictable and... risky. You weren't even certain that this man loved you back, and yet he was taking these risks for you. Sacrificing his job just to stay by your side? Now that was irrational. You knew what the right decision was from pure common sense, but how about you? What did you want to do?
You began again. "Stop thinking nonsensically." you warned. "What you're doing may cause more harm than good."
Sure, the conversation was about transfering ownership to one of his employees, which is big in itself, but in the grand scheme of things, in the underlying meaning behind each of your words, this was truly about commitment. A commitment sworn between the two of you. A commitment that should never occur.
"What if it brings more good than harm?" His eyes rounded as he looked to you, an innocent light sparked in his eyes, one that didn't know the truth of you, and the issues that reign from that very truth. Naive he was. Naive to think that you two could actually work.
You supposed you too were naive, for having the slightest inkling that something could spark from this. But, you knew that was a pipe dream.
And yet, you wanted to be selfish, to have him to yourself, to call him yours. You knew the consequences of this decision though; you'd leave him behind, you'd watch him grow old whilst you stayed in the same youthful looking body. How badly you wanted to grow old with him. To indulge in the thought of creating a family with him.
Naive, you thought to yourself once more.
"Y/N?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts.
Only then did you realise you had started crying.
Warm, strong arms wrapped around you tightly. You buried your face in the chest of Jungwon, his presence a constant in this moment, this fleeting moment. As you cried vehemently in his arms, he held you close. His arm held you securely at the waist, whilst his other hand pushed your head into him. He leant himself down so his head rested on your shoulder, overwhelming your senses as you felt his touch surrounding your whole being.
As you sobbed, your body wracked with tremors, your arms raising to cusp his broad back in your arms. You could feel his relaxed muscles under your fingertips, one of them specifically moving as he rubbed your back soothingly up and down.
Your hands tightened their hold on his shoulder blades, letting out every single emotion you felt towards this new love you felt within you.
Slowly, your mind reeled back to reality, and only then did you hear Jungwon's comforting words. "It's okay." "I'm here." "I'm not going anywhere." were amongst other things he chanted like a mantra. You gasped at his words, an overwhelmingly strong sob coursing through your body.
it wasn't okay. He wouldn't be there. And he was definitely going to be leaving. Whether he liked it or not, that was your reality. Everyone left you alone, to rekindle your life as you vowed to never become close with another again, only for human nature to ruin your plans as you found yourself indulging in the pleasure of making connections. However, you never felt love. The true, raw love from another human being, and vice versa. You've never loved so romantically in your life. Jungwon was your first, and it was apparent in his arms in which he held you so delicately that he was your last. You couldn't undergo this situation again. Never again.
Empty. Empty was all you could use to describe how your internal turmoil splayed before you.
Jungwon had long since gone from your front porch, his eyebrows that furrowed in concern and eyes that held a world of worry engraved in your mind.
You stared at your ceiling blankly, every possible scenario of avoiding Jungwon appearing in your head, and each one getting turned down due to the fact that Jungwon was too nice of a man to conduct a rude act against him. Why was he such a gentleman?
Eventually, you decided the best idea you had was to just blatantly ignore and avoid him. You only ever met at your work or your house, two of the main places you spent your time at. So it’d be a piece of cake right? Or… pie.
The next morning, you took the liberty of completely dismissing work. You cooped yourself in your home, shut out from the world. Yebin had knocked earlier to make sure you remembered work, to which you argued a mean cold had been thrust upon you.
“Probably the change of temperature tampering with my insides.” you proposed from your bed.
Yebin shook her head whilst laughing. “Sure, the common cold affects the person who cannot even perish. You humour me.” She looked to your “frail” figure and huffed. “Farewell then.”
It had been a fair while since Yebin left, by this time she would have arrived at work already. And now you laid on your mattress, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, the off-white plastered above you left little fuel for imagination.
You were close to lazily giving up and going back to sleep to avoid wallowing in your own grief before a knock resonated from your front door. Huffing slightly, you sluggishly hauled yourself out of your bed, your ivory chemise falling delicately against your thighs.
You imagined that your hair looked a mess—not at all tidy as it would normally be in its up-do—though you supposed the person at the door could only be Yebin returning to pick up something that slipped her mind when leaving the house.
The door opened with a click as you poked your head out.
“So sorry!” Your best friend funnelled out. You smiled knowingly before opening the door wider for her to enter. “Lord only knows what a mess I am this morning!” she huffed out in distress as she walked towards the kitchen to grab her packed lunch. “Next thing you know, I’d have forgotten my slip for work!” With her mind jumbled, she turned to you to kiss your cheek in departure.
Just as she was out the door, she blocked the door from closing before allowing herself back in. “I forgot my slip.” She laughed, an embarrassed blush falling upon plump cheeks. Yebin turned to you once more, looking at your bed tamed state and sighed calmly. “I appreciate you for putting up with me.” Her lips turned to a frown and you could tell she was becoming emotional.
“Oh stop, please none of this mushy nonsense right now.” You blatantly ignored her desire to be sentimental at this crucial time. “You’re late for work you gopher.” You ushered her out with your hand. “Out! Out!”
The last thing you saw was her waving at you before you closed the door in front of you.
Locking the door, you supposed now would be the time to make your breakfast. As you shifted to step to the kitchen, your door was knocked once more. With an amused grin, you turned back to the door.
“Unnie! I told you it’s not the time for sentimen-“ Nothing could prepare you for what was at your door. Supposedly, all that planning you did the night before on how to approach him if you bumped into each other would help you in this actually critical situation.
Yet, to your surprise, your mind hadn’t imagined you’d stand in front of him in such an unappealing matter.
Fact 1: You had just called him ‘Unnie’—sure you thought he was Yebin, but the fact still stood.
Fact 2: Because of all that planning, not much sleep met your deprived soul, so perhaps the dark circles running laps below your eyes were enough evidence of such—crying the night prior may have also factored into this one.
Fact 3: Chemise. Bed hair. A funny smile that was stuck between the amusement you wanted to greet Yebin with, and the shock of seeing him. Three very unflattering physical attributes to this mornings disaster.
Why was Jungwon here?
Better yet, why did he also look shocked?
“…Hello?” you said tentatively. The barriers you had spent the night before building were slowly starting to be threatened.
From where he stood, Jungwon had a full view of you in your most realest state—with your hair in a slight tangled mess, clothes you slept in on the night before, and no planned or curated tidiness. Just effortlessly you, and he couldn’t have been happier to catch you like this.
A smile spread across his face at the slight rasp in your voice as you spoke. “Hi Y/N… I, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, unsure if he should even expose himself so openly (although he had already done so a handful of times), but ultimately decided for it. “I went to the markets since I couldn’t help you to work today, but you weren’t there… so I got worried.”
The sincerity sparkling in his eyes made your resolve falter, but you couldn’t back down so easily. You chuckled nervously, eyes looking downward to not meet his gaze. “Well, I’m here now! So… you don’t have to worry.” You stiffened your smile to a line, kicking your foot absentmindedly at the floor before resting it behind your other, focusing your balance on one foot.
Jungwon’s eyes raked over your figure, sussing out your situation before clicking his tongue and sighing in curiosity. “Are you okay?” he wondered, arms folded as he was keen on figuring out your absence at work.
“Dandy!” you responded a bit too cheerfully. “A slight cough, but if anything, I’m fine.” You looked to him with a nod, confirming that you were safe and content with being alone.
He nodded, creating a brief moment of silence, before he returned with a suggestion. “Does that mean you’re healthy enough to come visit my work?”
You really wanted to think with your brain—like really, extremely, absolutely set on thinking with your brain—yet your wavering heart and cracking barriers choked out a response you knew you’d regret. “Yes, I am.”
Stupid. Stupid was all you could use to describe how your irrational actions splayed before you.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You were so utterly stupid.
How could you let yourself back down so easily? It hadn’t even taken three minutes of his presence for your walls to come crashing down, what now?
As the two of you walked together in silence—more like you followed behind him as walking next to him became overwhelming—your chest felt tight with tension. It was as if tension surrounded your very being.
Not a word had been uttered since you made yourself presentable and left the house, nothing except for Jungwon gesturing with his head to leave as the simplest form of communication, thus you entered a realm of suffocating silence. That was tension in itself.
The unspoken tension forged between you and Jungwon, which you didn’t even know if he knew that that existed.
And then the tension with this very situation you found yourself in; connecting with the person you swore to ignore.
Once again, you felt stupid.
“You look like you’re arguing with your thoughts.” Jungwon abruptly interrupted the long stretch of silence. With his hands behind his back and his eyes peering at you every-so-often, you found yourself breaking through your thoughts and raking your gaze along the gravel road.
You shook your head. “I’m not thinking anything.” You lied.
Unlike any other time, Jungwon didn’t push. Instead, he chose to steal wistful glances at you every so often, trying to decipher the problem by himself.
In the end, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you. If you didn’t want to tell him, there was a reason, and he respected that. But, god, did he want to know. And by all means necessary, he would make you feel better when he understood your current situation.
After a long—overwhelmingly silent—walk, the two of you arrived at a somewhat small, but modestly grand building. It blended with the other businesses around, but stuck out in its own neutral way.
“We’re here.” he mumbled, shooting a brief smile at you as he held the door to his firm open.
You nodded in acknowledgment before stepping into the quarters. You didn’t know what to expect from a law firm’s building, but it surely wasn’t anything shabby like your current position. In fact, it looked quite polished and pristine just from the outside, so there was no doubt the interior would match that expectation.
However, what you didn’t expect was to be met with five pairs of unfamiliar eyes staring inquisitively at you (and their boss), with a rather… perplexed yet knowing gaze.
“Boss!” A man stood up abruptly. hands pressed firmly against his sides as he bowed 90° at Jungwon, his tall figure bending down in a swift manner.
With furrowed brows, Jungwon responded. “What’s wrong with Heeseung hyung?” he deadpanned, shaking his head at the strange action from the eldest employee.
As he rose back up, the amused grin on his face indicated his unserious ideal of the formality, depicting his playfulness regarding the situation and his boss.
Another spoke up. “You finally back to work?” he teased, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked between the two of you. You hadn’t noticed, but behind his smirk lay an understanding of your dynamic with Jungwon through the whispers of their youngest intern, who was practically a permanent employee at this point, but he couldn’t escape the intern title even if he tried.
Jungwon rolled his eyes at the regard, opening his mouth to retort, until the back door opened with a dramatic swoosh!
With surprised eyes, a file slipped between his teeth, and coffee in either of his hands, the employee hummed in recognition. “Y/N!” he said, muffled by the cardboard between his lips—it sounded like jumble to your ears, but you digress.
When the familiar face of Riki suddenly appeared in your vision, you lit up at the sight of him. “Riki!” It was then you recalled the two working at the same law firm as confirmed the day prior. The walk leading up to this very moment had stigmatising thoughts consuming your very being, leading you to forgetting that your saviour was at the end of the path too.
Setting down the file and one coffee on an unoccupied desk and the other at the desk of the man who teased Jungwon previously—the one with the plentiful moles and knowing smirk—, Riki approached you both at the entrance with a stellar smile. “Has Hyung introduced you to everyone?” he questioned.
You pursed your lips as you thought to yourself. “…Briefly, I suppose.” Did a brief breakdown of each of his workers and what they meant to Jungwon to distract you after your own mental breakdown count?
“So a no.” Riki jeered, moving to stand beside you as he draped his arm around your shoulders, sneaking a glance towards Jungwon to gauge his reaction—spoiler alert: Jungwon becomes frozen and stiff when he’s annoyed, irritated, or, in this case, jealous, perfect for Riki’s plan of forcing the two of you together because he couldn’t bear Jungwon’s fawning over you any longer.
As he moved you along the room, arm still hanging around your shoulders, he gestured with his arm to each guy. In the table to your far left sat a cute man with full cheeks as he briefly waved to you, extending out a hand to shake your own. Riki introduced his name as “Sunoo”.
Moving to the left was “Jaeyun” yet everyone called him “Jake” as one time he expressed that foreign names were adequately unique and everyone wanted to poke fun at the guy, yet the name stuck—his charming smile and sly compliments couldn’t help but make you blush in embarrassment.
Next was the mole-faced guy who you thought looked quite stoic as you walked in, yet the smirk he wore as he teased his boss suggested anything but—his name was “Sunghoon” (and you didn’t know, but he and Riki had already formed an elaborate plan to get you and Jungwon together).
Two empty desks followed, then the tall man who bowed earlier, now sitting, was introduced as “Heeseung”, though you knew that through Jungwon’s response to his playfulness.
Lastly was the unbothered guy who was stuck on whatever paperwork he was filling out, sticking up a hand for a brief wave, before diving nose-deep back into his work. “And… that’s Jay…” Riki pursed his lips at the behaviour of his colleague. Pulling you in closer so he could whisper in your ear, Riki said very quietly. “He was here overnight so don’t mind his attitude, I swear he’s the kindest here, sometimes.”
You smiled in relief that you weren’t getting ignored and covered your mouth as you giggled at the silliness of your newfound friend, the sly grin tugging on his lips only pushing your limit further. You almost forgot the dread you felt upon coming here, but after experiencing the welcoming environment that they produced, you couldn’t help but to soften your stiffened shoulders and shielded expression.
From the distance—it was like two feet but to Jungwon it felt like miles—he watched a genuine smile spread across your face as you joked with Riki, and he couldn’t deny the pang he felt in his chest. He wasn’t and never was a jealous man, letting peace settle before any of his own emotions got the best of him. Yet in the instance where a conflicted expression haunted your face as the both of you walked together, and the contrast with the carefree and comfortable smile you wore currently, it was an undeniable bubble of envy that began to form in the pits of his stomach.
For the first time in his life, Jungwon felt jealous.
Tense. Tense was all Jungwon could use to describe how his concluded work splayed before him.
“Good work today guys.” Jungwon thinned out his smile, stretching his arms above his head as sitting in his chair began to take a toll on his lower back.
Murmurs followed throughout the room, agreeing to Jungwon’s testament. In his peripheral, Jungwon could see you laughing at something Jay had said, your teeth baring as your lips spread wide in a smile. Your head tilted back with a hand pressed to your chest as you calmed your racing heart. When you leaned forward once you caught your breath, you inadvertently leaned even closer to Jay.
The man hadn’t noticed, but the words that came out of his mouth sparked off a fit of laughter in you per sentence. “Am I really that funny?” he chuckled in disbelief, a grateful smile stretching the corner of his lips.
“Yes!” you giggled. Perhaps all the time you spent wallowing in your own pity left room for genuine happiness to shine—plus Jay was quite the jokester.
“Huh.” Jay said with a bit of pride, straightening his posture as he pursed his lips. “The guys don’t find me that hilarious.
You shook your head. “Well then they just don’t understand.” You swatted your hand in the air to disregard his statement.
Jungwon sighed, averting his eyes as he felt tension and envy fill up his chest. His lungs felt constricted for air as he couldn’t grasp the jealousy that seethed within him. He didn’t hate Jay. And he certainly didn’t hate you, so what was happening to him?
As he stacked papers on top of one another, standing them up and straightening them to be aligned with one another, he was hit with another pang to his heart as your giggles you attempted to suppress rang in his ears.
His head turned in the direction of Jay’s table again, gazing at you sat in the chair you had pulled up to chat with each of his colleagues. Throughout the day, you moved around the room, situating yourself across each of the guys’ table to familiarise yourself with them. Every single one of them, except for Jungwon.
The only interaction he had with you was the brief conversation at the front of your door and the path to his work.
In other words, it seemed like Jungwon was only ever able to watch you from afar, the distance between you feeling like planets away. As he reached closer, you stepped two steps back. He couldn’t deny the feeling of hurt welling in his chest, his throat, and every area of him that was consumed by you.
You were his constant, but at the pace he was going, your building relationship would become unstable.
He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t lose you. So the words that followed his fears were calculated. “Shall we have a team dinner?” he suggested from his desk.
And with the chorus of agreement, you found yourself sat across from Jungwon as the eight of you settled in a local restaurant. You couldn’t deny the awkward air flowing around you and Jungwon, though you found your strategising from the night before to work in this situation as you actively ignored Jungwon.
The person beside you took the brunt of your chatter, as you babbled on in Jake’s ear. Luckily for you, he had sat in the seat next to you upon arrival and was happy to keep a steady conversation moving.
Once again, Jungwon felt himself disassociating from the general chatter surrounding the table, instead zeroing in on the in-depth discussion between you and Jake. Everyone else at the table looked to their boss in amaze, never seeing this nervous yet wistful character of Jungwon.
They witnessed the way his shoulders dropped, his eyes rounded, and his inner cheeks bitten by his teeth, just from watching you talk to a person that wasn’t him.
Despite the chuckles the group had at this new side of their friend, Sunoo’s words piqued each of their interest. “How do we move these two forward?” he whispered whilst leaning forward.
The other four thoughtfully concocted ideas in their head, before Heeseung spoke up with a simple yet efficient plan. “Have them walk home together?”
Sunghoon shook his head and rested his chin upon his fist. “And if they don’t talk? Then what, it’ll just drive them apart.”
A collective silence followed their sighs, trying to strategise once more. “I think the issue here is that Jungwon is trying to find an opening, but Y/N is currently closed off from any possibility of interacting with him.” Ni-ki began, his eyes looking to each of the older guys. “Any suggestions on how to get her to open up?”
Another thoughtful period passed before Jay spoke up. “…I have an idea.” he said carefully. “But it’s a really… douchey idea and I’m not a fan for thinking it. Though, it may be our only option.”
They all looked to Jay suspiciously as he pointed at the drink menu before them, his finger laid on the words ‘soju’ and they all looked up nervously. “We should order rounds for all of us then.” Heeseung stated. “It’d become an issue if she were the only one drinking… and if she denies a drink we’ll come up with a new plan, okay?”
Collectively, they nodded and moved to catch the attention of the other three people on the table. “We’ll be ordering rounds of soju, you guys in?” Sunoo spoke up. As he was sitting at the end of the table across from Jay, he leaned on his elbows to look at the other end. His eyebrows lifted as silent way to convince the three into agreeing.
Jake and you had nodded, whilst Jungwon looked uneasy. “I don’t know guys…” he contemplated.
Next to him, Sunghoon nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on…” Sunghoon dragged out the end of the word. “It’s Friday, we don’t have work tomorrow.” he perusaded, but Jungwon still looked uneasy.
Ni-ki poked his head forward to look at Jungwon too. “Well we’re ordering some even if you aren’t having any.” he mused, head tilted provokingly.
“Fine, I’m happy to stay sober.” Jungwon shrugged, and thus an agreement settled amongst the table.
Everyone, but Jungwon would be drinking tonight.
Appalled. Appalled was all Jungwon could use to describe how the work of alcohol splayed before him.
Riki and Jake had already tapped out by this point, their heads splat on the table in front of them as the rest of the guys laughed at the synchronised effort of the two—although they were both too drunk to understand their joint actions.
Sunoo had his chin rested upon his fist, thoughtfully overseeing the chatter amongst the group, not having the energy to provide his input.
If it were just his friends, he would have stayed longer, yet the gnawing feeling of concern for you and your own drunk state pushed Jungwon to call it a night.
Although the tipsy and near-drunk conversations flowing were amusing, it was time to go home.
And as the boss stood up, all employees eyes laid on him, a knowing look shared between them all. “We’ll be off.” he said with finality gesturing to your stirring figure.
When you recognised that he wanted you to sit up, you let out a whine in disagreement. “Noo…” you dragged out the ‘o’. You huffed as a frown met your lips and you closed your eyes tiredly. “I don’t want to go yet…”
Jungwon battled with his inner thoughts that alerted sirens in his head screaming ‘DANGER’ ‘SHE’S TOO ADORABLE FOR HER OWN GOOD’ ‘DON’T BE A BAD GUY’. He pursed his lips as he rounded the table to your side. “Come on Y/N, we have to go now.” he spoke gently, kneeling to your sat figure as he placed a hand on your shoulder that he swiftly retracted to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.
But you hadn’t even realised he was next to you already. You pouted, crossing your arms over the table, before resting your chin on your forearms. “But… ‘m having so much fun, Won.” you reasoned. Jungwon almost broke his resolve at the mention of a nickname you hadn’t called him ever before.
Clearing his throat, he bit his lip thoughtfully before trying again. “If you stay out longer, it’ll be dangerous.” he said in a mere whisper.
With your head still rested on your forearms, you turned to look directly at him. Your drunken state didn’t notice the close proximity between the both of you, as Jungwon’s eyes sparkled with surprise for a brief second. “What ‘bout everyone else?” you said sadly, your eyebrows furrowing in concern as you gazed at Jungwon softly, his handsome features still viable even in your clouded haze.
“They can handle themselves.” he reassured.
Your eyes fluttered close before opening gently once more. “Really?”
He nodded. “Ask them if you’re unsure.” he smiled, gesturing towards the guys that had been engrossed in a quite chatter.
Turning to the guys slowly, you sat up straight and looked to them before setting your eyes on Sunghoon—focusing on them all would have been too much for your brain to handle. “Will you guys be okay?”
With a discerning smile, they all replied with a reassuring agreement.
Your lips jutted out in disbelief. “You promise?” You raised your brows skeptically.
A few of them chuckled before they collectively replied. “We promise.” They were all a mix of tipsy and near drunk, but not to the point of full intoxication. They could definitely handle themselves and the fallen troops before them.
You conclusively nodded and turned to Jungwon again. “Well… they promised I s’pose.” you pouted once more. With finality you stretched and then leaned towards Jungwon, your torso falling onto Jungwon’s own heavily. You arms dangled as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent before muttering quietly. “Take me home, Mr. Crusty Yang?”
Jungwon was so close to passing out from the overwhelming presence of you, but he had to keep his mind from wavering. “Mm.” he mumbled as an agreement, slowly—albeit regretfully—peeling you off of his figure and standing up, then tugging at your arms to get you up.
You giggled as you felt the motion of getting up course through your body. Your eyes fluttered ever so slightly, yet you had a calm smile settle upon your face.
Carefully, Jungwon slipped his arm around your waist, not before quietly asking if it was okay for him to do so, and guided your own around his neck.
With a swift farewell to the guys at the table, the two of you made it out of the restaurant with little disruption.
For the moment, the only sounds were you and your quiet babbles that Jungwon had no response to, only ever replying with a curt ‘really?’ every so often.
It was only after a few minutes of walking did you start to feel the pain in your feet, and the unsteadiness you harboured from the effect of the soju. You didn’t want to trouble Jungwon, but inevitably you had to speak up. “Won…”
There it was again, the nickname that sent a rush throughout his whole nervous system. “Mhm?” he sounded.
“My feet hurt…” you said carefully.
Jungwon had no hesitation before he formulated an idea. “Want a piggy-back ride?” he looked down at you, resting your head against his shoulder. Watching as you nodded your head, you soon found yourself hoisted upon Jungwon’s back, with your arms laid upon his shoulders, and your hands interlinked with one another.
At first, you simply laid your head on his back, but that soon grew uncomfortable as it strained on your neck, so you pushed yourself up straighter against his back and rested your head in the crook of his neck once more. Quietly, you whispered out. “You smell good, Jungwon.”
He couldn’t contain the blush that flourished on his cheeks. “Yeah?” He didn’t know how to respond to such a remark, he was too flustered to think straight.
When you nodded your head, the brush of your nose against his neck sent tingles throughout his whole body, inevitably he had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. And with your conclusive statement, the two of you continued. The only chatter was you, suddenly having the urge to talk to him despite ignoring him the whole day, but Jungwon took any interaction he could with you and cherished it.
That was until you said something that set Jungwon off in the wrong way.
“I’m sorry…” you said in a somber voice.
“Why?” Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, readjusting your position on his back so that your body wasn’t falling off him.
Words that Jungwon didn’t quite want to hear on this fateful night escaped your lips. “I don’t like you anymore, Jungwon.” you murmured, the air from your nose fanning upon the expanse of his neck as you tightened your grip and pushed your head impossibly closer to his.
Jungwon shut down. His steps faltered. His breath became shallow. Even the way he turned to look at your resting head was slow. “Really?” he whispered, the words almost going unheard by your ears.
With the haste in which you nodded, Jungwon just accepted, turning his head forward and burying any hope he had that fuelled his desire to be with you. “Then I guess we won’t be seeing each other much huh?” His voice trembled as the words left him, his lips betraying him as they shook with his words.
As you nodded again, Jungwon turned his head to the sky in an attempt to reverse the tears that were near falling. When he sniffled, your ears perked up as you turned your head to look at his side profile. “Wonie… why are you crying? Who made you sad?” you questioned innocently.
“Don’t worry about it.” he smiled, though his eyes clearly glistened with tears.
“But… how can I help you?”
He shook his head. “You can’t, Y/N, you shouldn’t worry about me. We don’t think of each other the same way.”
You paused, gathering your thoughts before spurting out another question. “Then, how do you think of me?”
In his peripherals, Jungwon could see your earnestly shining eyes peering into his very soul, and in the moment he couldn’t help but chuckle. What a fool he was for thinking this could work in his favour. “D’ya want me to tell the complete truth?”
You nodded.
“Even though you won’t remember?”
You nodded.
Well, shit, this was not how Jungwon thought he’d confess his love to you, but there’s always surprises for everyone. “I’m in love with you.” he stated blankly, staring straight ahead in fear of your reaction.
Any of his dying hope that remained was ultimately squashed as your unreadable expression dawned on him. “You… love me?”
Jungwon snorted at the realisation that he now served his heart on a silver platter for you. “Mhm.” he nodded. “I have for quite a while.”
Listening to his response, a smile spread across your face. As you sighed, an undertone of happiness under it, you suddenly perked up. “Perfect!” you spoke optimistically.
He raised a brow at your behaviour. “Perfect how?” His heart was practically shattered to pieces and the rejection in which he faced was certainly anything, but perfect—though it seems in your books that would be the case however.
“Because we’re on the same page of what we feel towards each other!” an uncharacteristically childish side of you was exhibited through this tale of emotions as you giggled triumphantly.
Jungwon scoffed in amusement. “Y/N… sorry to burst this bubble of yours… but I think we’re actually on complete opposite sides of the page here.”
“How?” you furrowed your brows
“Well for starters… I love you… and you don’t even like me.” he said, trying to decipher the connection in his head.
“Yes.” you reinstated.
Jungwon nodded. “So, where’s the connection?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you huffed.
“No, not really, quite the opposite actually.” Jungwon retorted matter-of-factly, the fragments of his dignity hanging on by a thread by your reassurance that you did not like him in the slightest.
You sighed once more before straightening your posture and tightening your hold around his neck. “I love you too.” you hummed, your lips briefly brushing against the bridge between his neck and shoulder-blades.
“Sorry?”
“I love you Jungwon.”
A pause. Then a laugh.
Then a hiccup that followed a faint sob.
And the two of you were lowered to the ground.
Despite your confusion, you found yourself crouched behind Jungwon as he squatted with his head on his forearm.
Tentatively, you crab walked to his side and tugged at this dress shirt. “Won?”
After another hiccup, Jungwon mumbled into his arms. “Don’t scare me like that.”
Slowly, Jungwon wiped at his cheeks and looked to you, your lips were swollen from you nervously biting them and your eyes looked as if they held every star in the universe. Man, were you perfect to him.
With a fond smile, Jungwon reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Swiftly, he moved his hand to caress your cheek softly and you nuzzled into his palm. “Shall we discuss this over a cup of water and a more sober mind?” he joked.
You giggled at his remark before nodding adamantly.
Sure, Jungwon had waited and watched from afar, yet all that hell was worth it to see that bright smile across your face.
The smile that was caused from him, just him.
Nervous. Nervous was all you could use to describe how the sight the man you were utterly infatuated with splayed before you.
This nervous energy was the same you felt those few nights ago when the very man in front of you walked you home for the first time.
Your eyelids flickered every now and then, the buzz of the alcohol still lingering in your system. As you sat upon the countertop, a glass full of water that had been refilled countless times at this point in hand, you stared at Jungwon with hearts in your eyes.
Yes, the nerves were very adamantly swirling through your being, but so was the love you felt blooming in your chest. How lovely of a feeling it was to have a reciprocated feeling of want from the person you were encapsulated by.
Jungwon turned around, now meeting eye-to-eye with you, only to find you staring at him, your full attention on him. His cheeks flared red and he quickly diverted his eyes. “W-why are you looking at me like that?” he gulped nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
You shrugged, a smile finding its way on your lips. “I don’t know… you’re just so handsome, I can’t help myself.” Your conscious mind was screaming in agony—in what world would you ever say stuff like this? The confidence built from the mere motivation of alcohol somehow allowed for you to exude this poise you wouldn’t have developed otherwise.
He chuckled nervously. “Oh, come on Y/N, don’t say stuff like that.” he exhaled as he shook his head. He was busy concocting a tea to help lessen the toll the soju would have on you in the morning, as well as to sober you up slightly so he knew you were at least somewhat aware of the conversation unfolding between you.
Teasingly, tauntingly, you tilted your head, a pout to your lips as you mumbled. “Why? I’m only saying the truth?” The sincerity in your voice only pushed a grin onto Jungwon’s face, a smug one at that.
“Oh yeah?” he jeered. After stirring the tea around and blowing on it, he turned to you, and continued the provoking atmosphere. “What other truths do you have in that pretty little head of yours?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, caging your figure in effectively between his stable arms, after handing you the tea.
You pretended to ponder, sipping the tea whilst humming. “Hmm… I’m not sure…” you playfully mused. As you settled the tea down on the counter, you met face to face with Jungwon again, a calm expression entrancing you. You looked down, innocence and teasing written all over your body.
Slowly, your hand moved from his situated ones on the countertop, guiding their way from his forearm, to his elbow, brushing over his dress shirt that had been rolled up to that point, and trailing over his bicep. Alongside your travels, your eyes followed each movement of your hand, carefully following and scanning each crevice that your hand marked.
Finally, they brushed up over his shoulder, caressing his collarbone before landing on his chest. As these ministrations continued, the both of you found yourselves breathing heavily, suffocated by the tense atmosphere. You could feel his heart beating recklessly against his chest. Your other hand soon followed, skipping the path up his other arm and immediately resting on his chest next to your nimble fingers.
“Your heart’s racing.” you stated, eyes flickering up to his own.
Jungwon inched closer to you, his body slotting in between your legs. “Yeah?” he whispered cockily. His hands moved to hold your elbows as he straightened his posture, head no longer aligned with yours. “Why do you think that is?”
You hummed, head tilting upwards to look at him. “Not sure.”
He lifted his brows in mock surprise. “You.” he simply stated.
Slowly, he moved his head closer to yours, words tumbling from his lips. “It’s always been you. Your eyes, your lips, my god, your lips.” he huffed out impatiently. “You’re so pretty to me Y/N, did you know that? You must know that you’re the prettiest girl in the world, yeah?” His nose brushed against yours as his lips were mere inches from your own.
You could feel his exhales fanning on your face, each breath drawn from the two of you mingling with each other. “Y/N, I’ll have you know that I’m a selfish man.” he rasped, eyes gaping into yours with a half-lidded gaze.
“Really?” you hummed, your hand reaching to connect behind his neck, fidgeting with the tufts of hair that met at his nape. “How so?”
He looked to the side in contemplation before looking into your eyes once more, “If you’ll let me have you, I’m afraid I can’t let anyone else take what’s mine.”
A smug grin settled on your face, the edges of your lips a taunting spell to Jungwon, whose eyes betrayed him as he glanced down to your change in expression. “Then I’m all yours.” you mumbled quietly, like you only wanted him to hear it.
Jungwon moved impossibly closer to you, noses brushing and lips ghosting over yours. If he moved in the slightest, both your lips would collide. “Stop me if I’m going too far.” he declared, not wanting to push the limit.
“Just fucking kiss me Jungwon.”
With no hesitation, your lips met with his in a moment you could only describe as bliss.
Pure, utter bliss.
His lips moved in motion with yours, hands raising to cup your face in his hold, effectively deepening the affectionate lock. You hummed as you felt your lips mold against each other.
Gasps of air left you exasperated, but you weren’t separated for long. As the both of you looked to each other, glazed over eyes and puffy lips, you met once gain with feverish haste, your desire for each other adamant in this very moment.
Jungwon groaned in satisfaction. The love of his life was finally in his arms. And he couldn’t have imagined a better way for the two of you to finally combine as one—there were a million other possibilities Jungwon had mapped out, even dreamed about, but none of them compared to the reality of actually having you to himself, in his grasp,
And on his lips.
Dazed. Dazed was all you could use to describe how the feeling of waking up after an experience synonymous to euphoric splayed before you.
You jolted up in bed, blood rushing to your head at the sudden movement. The tea Jungwon practically shoved down your throat certainly helped ease the progression and outcome of a hangover, but you had quite a bit—a lot—to drink.
Stepping out of bed, you exited your room to be hit by the smell of a comforting stew being brewed. With a growing smile, you called out as you approached. “Unnie! You know me so well!” you gleamed. As you poked your head from the hallway and peered into the kitchen, you were met with, once again, not Yebin.
Your shock was evident on your face, and your cheeks grew hot from the sight of Jungwon stirring the pot. He smirked as he turned around. “Unnie again? Will you call me Jungwon-unnie from now on?” he teased before turning towards the stove once more.
A flaming blush spread across your cheeks, even reaching your ears, as you crossed your arms and looked to the floor bashfully. “No…” you pouted, kicking your feet absentmindedly. “It was an honest mistake…”
He chuckled at your retort. “Oh? How about Oppa?”
“Get out.” you asserted, your face contorting in a way that only showed displeasure. What a funny sentiment. You were older by a plentiful amount of years, how humorous of him. “You wish.” you shook your head, snorting at the thought.
Your slippers padded against the floor as you took a seat at the dining table, resting your head on a propped up fist. “What are you making Won?” The nickname rolled out so casually, Jungwon almost missed the ring of it.
Jungwon coughed in surprise. “Hangover soup…” he murmured, looking as if he shrunk into his own figure whilst stirring the pot.
With a roll of your eyes, you huffed. “I’m not a light drinker you know? What’s with all this taking care of me business?”
Jungwon shrugged. After the drunken confessions from you the night before, he felt more confident and playful with his demeanour towards you. “Can’t a man take care of the woman he’s interested in?” he nonchalantly heckled. As your response followed a brief moment of silence, Jungwon followed up. “Can’t he?” He turned to you.
He tried to withhold the smile that threatened to appear once he bore witness to your inflamed cheeks and flattened grin, suppressing the very new, very raw emotions that came alight with your mistake of having one too many drinks. “You can’t just say that…” you muttered, turning away from him and looking out the closest window to you.
As he shook his head, he turned back to the stove and finished off the final touches to his stew. “By the way…” he began again after a comfortable silence settled. “Do you mind if we visit my work before heading to the markets?” he asked politely.
You hummed in response, looking forward to seeing everyone again despite being around them only a few hours prior.
Eventually, the both of you had made it out of the house hastily after finishing your first meal. Yebin took the liberty in dropping her son off at the daycare since she was well aware of your situation—she found out when she saw Jungwon folding the blanket he had slept with on the couch and took a fright to the unfamiliar sight.
Safe to say, it was an interesting way to wake up, and a fun night of interrogation would be determined in the near future against you.
Somehow, the crisp chill of the air refreshed your vitals, and despite it nipping at your skin, you basked in the brisk weather happily. Whilst you walked, Jungwon looked to his side and watched as your scarf slowly and unnoticeably slipped from your shoulder.
You were too engrossed in the fall foliage to notice the descent of your clothing, but the action of Jungwon fixing it up for you most definitely caught your attention. Looking up at him curiously, the concentration woven between his brows brought warmth in the chill of the weather before you. “Another conquest for the ‘woman you’re interested in’ perhaps?” you said teasingly, though a fond smile grew on your face.
A gleaming and contagious grin mirrored on Jungwon’s own, with a final tightening to your scarf to ensure no more breakage and micro adjustments, he spoke with finality. “Perhaps so.”
To hide the overwhelming feeling of love pooling in your heart, you stuffed your face in your scarf, the one Jungwon had just readjusted, and smiled freely beneath the covers. You shoved your hands in your coat pockets and marched ahead of him to deal with the consequences of accepting his love, and most importantly, your love for him.
Without a doubt, you were happy in this moment, but in the worst times are you reminded of your status in this world. This world that only left fleeting moments as your memories, and this too, will become a moment left behind in time.
Jungwon will pass on, and you will live with the regret of ever loving a person, stripping them of their ability to find and love another.
You hoped. You really hoped that this one could be your last. The one that stays. The one that will grow old as time passes. Where you grow old.
The ice in which you sealed your heart in began to melt and gave way for the entrance of Jungwon, much like the fall day upon you.
From behind, Jungwon latched himself onto your figure, caging you in a bear like hug.
With a selfish gleam and intention, you smiled up at him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheeks as you arrogantly believed in the hope of growing old with the man in front of you.
And as he squeezed you tight, that selfish ulterior motive couldn’t have been more apparent in the genuine smile you unleashed.
Detached. Detached was all you could use to describe how the feeling of being with a group splayed before you.
Somewhat out-worldly it felt watching the guys interact—laughter, banter, and brutal slander against each other. Though the massive smiles that stretched on each of their faces proved a bound of care and adoration they held within for each other.
And whilst you sat idly next to Jungwon, silently watching their interactions as they half-worked and half-talked, you couldn’t help but to feel regretful for all the other friendships and desires you opposed due to your circumstances, each tie you severed to save yourself only did more harm than good.
You replayed every memory, every person, every potential partner, and a wave of longing struck upon you. The only cause of breaking out of your thoughts was Jungwon leaning over and whispering in your ear. “I have a seperate office over there if you want to go somewhere private and alone.” he offered, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
At first you contemplated. You wanted to stay in this room with the others and bask in the feeling of friendship and sincerity, but that feeling was so overwhelming that you couldn’t enjoy a sliver of it.
So with a hestitant nod, you stepped over to Jungwon’s personal office, blocked off from the large square room that held the guys’ desks, and locked yourself inside.
His room was modestly decorated, a few art pieces hung up around the office. He even had a few bookshelves cascading upon his walls, a variety of books ranging from novels to lawful studies sat on display.
Upon closer inspection, a familiar maroon-purple book spine caught your attention. “Oh my god.” you whispered exasperated under your breath. In your grasp, was your favourite book. Your finger traced the words ‘Profound Feeling Of You’ delicately, then moved to open the book.
In your surprise, there lay a ripped page from a small notebook, the one that he kept in the inner pocket of his blazer, that had the schedule of his day from when the two of you first spoke. As you picked off the small paper, under it was a short piece of writing on the title page.
Tears formed in your eyes as you read the words in his handwriting. ‘Yang Jungwon!’ the first line stated. ‘Don’t get this ending with Ms. Baker! It’s wron inherently wrong!’ he wrote.
Flicking through the pages, you noticed that he had written on some lines, a small message to himself as thoughts he couldn’t contain were unleashed.
The part read— “And Jiangyi bore her eyes into Shenqi’s back, his figure disappeared into the abyss of the field “Shenqi!” she called. Was it her imagination, or did he pause in motion? “I love you!” she declared for a final time.
He did pause. And in his momentary hesitation, he turned to look at her, a broken look to his eyes as he smiled, a final farewell to his everlasting love. “Jiangyi.” he began. “Let me go.” he repeated the words he declared previously.
And Jiangyi cried. How could she let go, when all she’d ever done was hold on?”
You switched to the handwritten words on the side, an amused giggle leaving your lips. Jungwon had written, ‘Shenqi is not a real man’.
Shaking your head, you flicked to the last page, the last hoorah of the book. You hadn’t bothered reading the last few lines, the book practically memorised in your head after various break time readings.
Though, what Jungwon had written in accordance to his closing thoughts willed you to read it just once more. It read— “On her wedding, filled with the people she loved the most, her most beloved person she wished to stand before her, was absent in his wake. Hua Shenqi, that jerk of a man, should’ve been the one in front of her. A tear fell from her eye, and her soon-to-be husband smiled at her, though his figure practically merged into the background.
How could she convey the loss of a person who wasn’t even dead?”
Jungwon responded with his own take. ‘Ms. Baker was cruel to recommend this to me.’ he began. As you read, the words he had spoken to you displayed themselves on the paper. ‘A love story definitely, but… happy ending? No. Why did he give up? Why did she let him? Oh, good, I’ll bring these points up with her.’
You smiled at the memory, but he wasn’t finished. Eventually, he wrote below his previous, final words, and wrote a secondary conclusion in different ink. ‘Okay sure, Ms. L/N Y/N, maybe it was ‘unexplainably life-altering’, I’ll give you that!’
A blush blossomed on your cheeks as you settled the book down, slotting it back into its place on the shelf. Peering into his inner thoughts written on paper felt somewhat revealing, and you turned away from the shelves bashfully.
Who knew Yang Jungwon could pertain such petty thoughts?
Gratified. Gratified was all you could use to describe how it felt to have Jungwon’s persistence splayed before you.
Once again, you found yourself sitting idly on your stool as Jungwon greeted customers with a grand smile hooked upon his face, his dimples only emphasising his enjoyment of the situation as he took over your stall.
It seemed as of recent that as Jungwon had become more of a constant in your life, the days began to pass slowly, slower than ever before. You imagined it was some god having an ounce of mercy on you after prohibiting your life sentence from ending—though you knew eventually they’d have to stop toying with you at some point.
After a particularly tiring shift—what’s not tiring at this rate?—Jungwon turned to you with a long, dragged out sigh. His hands gripped the board behind him as he leaned his back against the front counter, forearms tensed as he squeezed the wood. He quirked a brow at your lethargic posture, a tilt to his head adding to the perplexity. “How long have you been staring at my back?” he queried.
You looked to him with a purse of your lips, before turning away to avert your gaze. “Only just now.” you murmured, the slightest pout to your lips. Your tone hadn’t held the confident flare it normally did, so Jungwon approached you carefully.
Once he was stood directly in front of you, he cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head up. “You’re lying.” he teased, that same flirtatious stretch to his lips encapsulated you for the nth time.
When you shook your head in disapproval, he squished your cheeks together with the palm of his hands. “Hmm… you’re weird.” he speculated. “Are you okay?”
You hesitantly nodded, but that same lack of assurance lingered. Jungwon knew something was up, but didn’t want to push your limits. With a firm smile, he leant down and pressed a kiss on your nose gently. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” he whispered, hands moving to settle on your shoulders, giving them a light rub.
After quietly agreeing, he turned around once more to do all the dirty work you thrust upon him—he enjoyed doing the tasks you found physically taxing, which is why you found yourself sat on your stool rather than serving your customers.
How utterly tragic. Immediately as he turned, your enthusiasm couldn’t have been further down in the dirt.
He was a perfect man, this Yang Jungwon, so as you thought over the plan you contemplated whilst walking with him towards the markets—yes, another detailed, thought over, and arrogant plan—you felt guilty.
Not only were you planning to break off this situation despite it not having happened to its fullest potential, you weren’t going to explain it to him. Did you feel like a complete and utter jerk? Absolutely. But, after reading over the book again, your favourite, you had to reconsider your choices.
The book was your die-hard favourite for a reason, and it was because it reminded yourself of you. Sure, they weren’t destined to live eternally, but Shenqi had broken himself off from Jiangyi with no explanation. You didn’t even know why he broke it off, and you spent a precarious amount of your time trying to solve the mystery of his absence.
All conclusions led to, as you guessed, nothing.
It was ironic in a way. Jiangyi and yourself would never find out the reason for Shenqi leaving her, and Jungwon would never discover the truth to why you were soon to leave him. Cruel, is what it is.
Once more, Jungwon looked over his shoulder towards your direction, and hastily you plastered a reassuring smile on your face. In response he projected a tug to his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes, before he turned to the front to tend to another incoming customer. Was he aware of the situation he would soon face? Was this intuition?
Soon, the working day come to an end, and the sun kissed the land gently on the horizon. Jungwon dusted his hands off after closing the stall for the night, then turned to you with a satisfied expression. “Let’s go?”
You nodded, and he draped an arm over your shoulders. You let it happen. After all, you most likely wouldn’t experience a thing like this again.
As the both of you walked, Jungwon had chatted your ear off about what catastrophes occurred after you had escaped to his office earlier in the day. Something about another bet between the guys, a brief haggle between Jake and Sunoo, though it was mostly Jake’s fault for teasing the poor man, and some other probably important, probably entertaining event that faded into the abyss of your fogged mind.
“Y/N?” Jungwon had repeated. When you blinked at him in surprise, Jungwon chuckled in amusement, crossed with disbelief. “Okay, something isn’t right here Ms.” he shook his head. “You’ve been zoning out more often than normal.”
You hummed. “Hmm? What do you mean?” you plead innocence. Maybe if you acted accordingly, he would breeze past. But Jungwon wasn’t that type of guy.
With a retrained sigh, he opened up about his worries carefully. “It’s just…” he pouted his lips in thought. “You’ve been acting off recently… I just want to know if you’re okay?” Jungwon turned his head to you, eyes sparkling radiantly as concern was etched into his features.
Why? Why did you have to fall for such a good man? A considerate one? Not an ounce of wrong was in his nerves, his blood. Perhaps the gods weren’t slowing down time in your favour, but rather as an entertaining show to watch as you slowly developed deeper feelings for Jungwon.
“I’m okay.” you nodded, attempting to have some semblance to a content expression, but your facade was practically transparent as Jungwon saw right through you.
“But, you’re not.” he replied firmly, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
Your lips twitched in an emotion alike to annoyance? Irritation? “Mr. Yang.” No longer did you use an endearing nickname, nor his first name. You wanted your intentions set straight. “I said I’m okay, can’t you accept that?” you argued.
In a twist of frustration, Jungwon’s eyebrows pinched impossibly closer together. “No, I can’t. I won’t.” he huffed. “Sure, we aren’t exclusively official, I’ll give you that, but come on Y/N, I’m inviting you to lean on me. I just want to be here for you.” he declared steadily, voice unwavering.
Hesitant. You were hesitant yet the next words that followed the bite of your lips could not be reversed. You should’ve contemplated a bit further, but then again, it had to go according to plan. “Exactly, we aren’t each other’s person.” you angrily retorted. “So stop acting like we’re closer than we are.”
If you had plunged a knife into his chest, twisted it, then pushed it in some more, the ache he would’ve experienced wouldn’t have compared to what you had just said. “I’m sorry?” he scoffed in exasperation.
At this point, Jungwon had stopped walking, urging you to follow suit.
“You heard me.” you rebutted, your stance unwavering as you further pushed this agenda.
Jungwon smirked. “Did last night mean nothing?” he tested the waters. He nimbly approached you, hand reaching to hover over your cheek, but not quite gracing it. “Were my lips that intertwined with yours so eagerly just a figment of my imagination?”
You noticeably gulped, and Jungwon didn’t miss it. Yet, you were quick to recover your resolve. “Mm.” you shrugged neutrally. “Wasn’t much to me.”
The love of your life, the one whose kisses you cherished so deeply, the one whose presence was something you looked forward to, had a flicker of realisation pass through his mind. And it showed in his eyes. His previously determined, somewhat cocky attitude, faded into one of betrayal and disbelief. “Y/N.” his voice trembled unsurely. “You don’t mean that, right?” his creased eyebrows eased as they upturned in a naive sort’ve flair.
“I meant it.” you declared. “I regret doing all of that with you.” Your hands dropped to your sides, feeling both the weight of a pressing issue lifted from your shoulders, but a large hound of hesitance, regret, and guilt piled onto your conscience, overthrowing the feeling of liberty that you relished in momentarily.
Jungwon shook his head in disbelief whilst pursing his lips. He grabbed for your hands, taking them in his own as he squeezed you tight. Almost instinctively, he knelt down on his knees, a plead to your presence. “Y/N.” he whispered. Not once in this whole debacle did he raise his voice, and now, he was the quietest he’d ever been. “I love you.” he declared, and he hoped it wasn’t for a final time.
You paused. And in your momentary hesitation, you looked down at Jungwon with a broken look to your eyes. This was it. You smiled, hopefully a final farewell to your fleeting—though it seemed as if it’d be everlasting—love. “Jungwon.” you began. “Let me go.” your smile lingered as your words held an underlying meaning that went beyond the physical touch between the two of you.
And Jungwon’s lip trembled. How could he let go, when he had only just been able to hold on?
Hopeless. Hopeless was all you could use to describe the repurcussions splayed before you.
When you arrived at your door earlier, a grinning Yebin awaited your arrival as she was ready to welcome you with her interrogation and greetings. Only, you were crying and her happiness was exchanged for concern. “Huh?! Honey, are you okay?” Her eyes were blown with despair, empathy swirling through her core at the sight of your teary eyes.
You explained everything. You didn’t need to hide it from her.
Had it been Jungwon’s fault, Yebin was ready to swing her fist straight to his face, but your reasoning for breaking it off urged her to slap you on the back, lovingly—at least that’s what she wanted to convey.
“Are you out of your mind? ‘It’s best for the both of us’” Yebin mocked your words in a ridiculing tone. “Best for the both of you, or best for him? Y/N you should think for yourself sometimes!” she reprimanded. You opened your mouth to retort, refute, anything to defend your case, but she wasn’t done lecturing you. “I’m not sure if this was even best for him? He loves you, why would he accept this choice?”
Your lip trembled as you thought over her words. “Yebin.” you began, voice shaky. “I’ve lost so many before him. Those? I willingly gave it up, but this one- this one I actually thought could break whatever curse laid upon me.” You shook your head, hands reaching to grab at Yebin’s. “Lord knows the willpower it took to deny him, but if I didn’t do it now, when would the time come? When could I tell him that I wanted to end things, and everything would be better? This was the only way!” Your voice raised as the emotions pressing down on your heart began to flow out.
Yebin clicked her tongue, less in an annoyed sense and more in a defeated one. “Did you have to break his heart so recklessly though? Your heart?” She shook her head. “Y/N, you love him too.”
With a nod of your head, you agreed whole-heartedly with her statement. “I do. I love him till the ends of the earth.” you sighed emptily. “Which is why I had to. Don’t you think if I let him off delicately, he’d just barge his way back in? Yang Jungwon is not an easy man to avoid. This is the only way he won’t come back to me, he still has dignity you know?”
The woman across from you scoffed in amusement. “If it were you he lost his dignity for, he would do it in an instant and a thousand times over. You’re severely underestimating him.”
You couldn’t deny that you held onto that hope. That maybe someday he’d come knocking on your door, begging for you to stay with him. If he did, you weren’t sure what you’d do—you knew that running back to him was inevitable if ever he appeared in front of you, so you supposed you did know what you’d do.
In the whole ordeal, regretfully, you closed down your stall. The one thing occupying your day. There were a few reasons to this. For one, you wanted to limit any close or face-to-face contact with Jungwon, two, winter was soon to come and the convenience was there, three you didn’t want to see Jungwon up close, and four, Yang Jungwon. So maybe your reasoning was obvious, but excuses or not, it was the best option.
However, you contradicted yourself on many occasions. Perhaps you found yourself trailing him when you saw him, watching from afar as you studied his work ethic, his interactions, and… how he was coping.
Overall, he seemed okay. At work, initially, he wasn’t completely there mentally, though through your viewings, the guys helped him out immensely. You were grateful that he had a circle of people around him to support and advance him through the day.
After a while, you started to feel strange for watching him. And eventually your viewings of him lessened, and you found yourself seeing him every once in a while, a look of longing settling on your features, before diverting your vision and ignoring the feeling.
And then it happened. News spread that a humble, handsome lawyer was soon to be wed with a wealthy, beautiful woman from a prestigious family. You ignored it at first, not much interest in the marriage of two people you were unfamiliar with, until Yujin had tapped your arm and shoved a newspaper in your face.
“Noona! Look!” he pointed at one of the sections on the newspaper. The name Yang Jungwon alongside another woman’s name and the words ‘to be wed’ highlighted gave an inherent shock to your body as soon as you glazed over it.
Your eyes skimmed the paper and the details to his wedding were outlined at the end of the announcement block.
Safe to say, you found yourself entering a new event on your calendar.
Apathetic. Apathetic was all Jungwon could use to describe the wedding ceremony splayed before him.
Correction, his wedding ceremony.
The woman he were to be wed to was an arranged marriage that his parents had set up. The two of then hadn’t even gotten to know each other before the ceremony was settled.
So much for having the freedom of choosing.
He sighed heavily, clad in a brown suit, darker than the one he had first met you in. What a joke, he was still thinking about you even on the supposed ‘most important day of his life’. How could he not? He only wished for you to be on the receiving end of this marital contract, to watch you walk down the aisle, to slide the ring on your finger, to kiss you at the end when you complete your ‘I do’s’.
But that dream wasn’t a reality. It never would be.
As he awaited his soon to be wife at the end of the aisle, he bore his eyes into the shut double doors at the end of the church. Then she emerged, a stunning dress complimented her perfect figure. She was definitely beautiful, but she couldn’t live up to you. If this woman was perfect, you were out-worldly.
Jungwon had zoned out when she finally approached. Her father handed her off to him, and he gave a tight smile and a curt nod.
The ceremony was a blur. On his wedding, filled with the people he loved most—amongst other visitors who came just to witness a marriage—the most beloved person he wished to stand before him, was absent in her wake. L/N Y/N, that dream of a woman, should’ve been the one in front of him. A tear fell from his eye, and his soon-to-be wife smiled at him, though her figure practically merged into the background.
How could he convey the loss of a person who wasn’t even dead?
EPILOGUE
Paralysed. Paralysed was all you could use to describe how you felt upon witnessing the wedding ceremony splayed before you.
You had arrived in a modest yet secretive disguise, not wanting to be seen, or worse, recognised by Jungwon or presumably any of his friends that were a part of this ceremony.
You watched as she gracefully walked down the aisle, her wedding dress flowing behind her in a manner only reminiscent of an angelic presence.
Time seemed to slow down again as the painstakingly heart wrenching view of your first love interlinking in a binding love contract registered in your brain. And as he gave her a peck after their ‘I do’s’ you couldn’t help the flow of tears that left your eyes.
Many others around you had begun crying too, but for the reason of two people connecting as one, yet this very reasoning was what made you cry in a different sense.
People stood in applause, and you took this opportunity to briskly escape the church, a sob wracking through your body as you slipped out unnoticed.
It was only when you arrived home and looked to the dining table, your world paused briefly. There, sat on top of a few other pieces of mail, was a letter addressed to you. The handwriting looked undeniably like his, but you didn’t get your hopes up. After all, you just watched as he was married off to another woman.
Though, as you ripped open the letter, your presumptions were proven wrong.
Dear My Love, Ms. Baker, The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, Y/N,
It’s odd to think I’m writing you a letter.
I contemplated on so many occasions on whether or not I should come to see you, attempt to mend our relationship in some way. But the time never came.
I’ll give it to you Ms. L/N, you effectively stomped on my heart and walked off, but I don’t hate you. In fact I’m not even surprised that I still love you.
I’m getting married today.
It wasn’t my choice.
If it was, I’d have you in front of me with that beautiful smile of yours. Aren’t I the worst for thinking about you despite my engagement? My marriage?
Y/N. I have so many questions to ask you. But I’ll withhold from mentioning them, I wouldn’t want to burden you further with the looming questions in my mind. Though, I wonder if we can meet once more, perhaps in another life, where things will be different, and I can safely call you mine, hold you in my arms, and never ever let you go.
I read over the book once more—just to feel some connection with you—and I could only laugh at how our story seemed to align with theirs. Would you be Shenqi?
I’ll say this once more, as this’ll be my first and last letter to you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
I don’t think I could truly love anyone as much as I loved you.
I miss you Y/N, and I hope to see you again, in our next life.
Sincerely, Mr. Crust.
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ENDING NOTES: and that’s a wrap for Sincerely Mr Crust! im aware of how fast and rushed the ending was, but ill be honest i just wanted this over and done with LOL. i hope you enjoyed my story, and hopefully there’ll be more to come!! maybe some shorter stories bc obviously writing these stories are not my forte timing wise 😭😭 i hope to see you again next time <3
© @kuromkiz on tumblr. do not re-upload or claim as your own
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kalelactually · 4 months ago
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this little oneshot is a prelude into a transformers human/mech au by @keferon , loosely based on pacific rim (i think?) go browse through their au/art tag, their work is incredible and a ton of fun. :3
i focus mainly on ratchet and deadlock here (even thought deadlock isn’t even officially named yet) but don’t worry, there’s more on the way :P
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— send out a signal, and i’ll fly low (i’ll find you by the light of your halo) —
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and as ratchet walks through the forest, a heavy sense covers his shoulders and folds over his head, fastening itself across his chest with a kind of foreboding he hasn’t felt since he left the war.
he grimaces, and tightens his grip on the wrench over his shoulder he nabbed on the way out of the garage. of course, in an ideal scenario, he wouldn’t have to use it — but if war taught him anything, it’s to prepare for everything. (besides, even he’s not above admitting that something out there [God, the universe, fate, whatever] has a taste for irony.)
as he makes his way north in the direction of the river, the whirring sound he heard from overhead before now winds its way towards him between brush and trees, along with the distressingly familiar groans and creaks of settling metal.
a heavy breeze follows the noises a second later. it ruffles ratchet’s hair on the way by, and sends any remaining wildlife into a flurry. ratchet cocks his head, thinking almost absently that the sound was similar to a sigh.
he then catches himself and pauses to shake his head. he must be losing it. (it’s boring out here, and his mind’s finally given up the ghost.)
he grips his wrench tighter all the same.
he finally rounds a patch of thick pines, and as he takes in the view his jaw drops in a display of surprise that hasn’t caught him dead in years. in front of him, covered in earth, countless branches, and skewered trees, lies a being made of sheer plated metal.
ratchet takes a second. he shakes his head in disbelief. he blinks his eyes once, twice; shakes his head again — and, well, the view still hasn’t changed. he blinks one more time just for good measure, then picks up his jaw from the forest floor. he mentally starts to assess the scene in front of him with both an engineer’s and medic’s eye as he steps closer, wrench still held high for (ahem.) reasons.
(listen, he’s still not willing to play chicken with a higher power, alright?)
the majority of the large plates that make up the figure’s external armor are severely dented, scuffed to hell, and some are full-on buckling. there’s also a luminescent pink sort of liquid dripping from multiple cracks and scrapes, spreading quickly across forest floor and coating its surface in a glowing, iridescent sheen.
he can also hear the telltale crackle of electric currents running unchecked even as he catalogs multiple sparking wires, and he makes sure to avoid those with full caution until he can come back with proper gear. (and oh, God. he’s already thinking about coming back, isn’t he.) above it all, the smell of smoke still hangs in the air as it slowly rises off superheated metal.
upon closer inspection, he can make out grey and white paint underneath all the dirt, scrapes, and pink liquid. the colored paint seems to alternate between armor panels here and there to provide some aesthetic effect, and there’s yellow accents and teal trim that seem to be faintly glowing, lit from underneath by some internal power source. ratchet definitely puts its overall frametype down as humanoid adjacent, as he rounds the figure’s side and finally makes out an arm, along with a head.
the arm itself looks like it’s barely hanging on, a throughly busted shoulder joint leading down to an extended claw-tipped hand, as if to brace itself for the crash. the head, meanwhile, has a series of white finials that frame a dark grey faceplate with shut optics, and a bashed-in nose ridge and open mouth with pink liquid trickling out of both to nicely round off the list.
and with that note, he remembers hearing whispers about a project that had been floating around for months before he left the war (and moved to his chosen place of reclusion) but he never put much stock in them — the government was always trying to spread things and elevate itself, constantly fighting a battle with their ever tenuous self-righteous image.
nevertheless, the thing he’s looking at now proves that maybe someone out there did follow through on their promises, and although he does have questions, concerns, and a whole lot of notes, this figure is a thing of ingenuity and marvel. the engineer in him is absolutely thrilled, eager to examine its joints, wiring, and materials — to get deep under plating and find how it ticks.
his eyes are wide as he reaches a hand out to carefully examine the being’s faceplate with an appraising hum, the material looking softer compared to the hardier metal of its armored frame. it had to be some kind of polysynth mesh, perceptor was working on a similar project back whenever he had time in the labs —
the being’s left optic cracks open without warning, drowning ratchet in crimson light as it looks around wildly, trying to orient itself. it zeroes in on him a second later, and he yanks his hand back as he raises his wrench, instinctively retreating a few paces.
the optic moves, looking him up and down, and bathes him in light for a few moments as ratchet breathes in and out, steadying himself, his hands firm as his eyes stare back into unforgiving red.
the being scans him one more time, and lets out a sigh as its optic closes. a rush of air escapes its whole frame as it finally settles, sinking further into the ground.
ratchet slowly pulls himself out of whatever… that was, and after a moment of deliberation he lowers the wrench, reaching forward again to tap on the being’s faceplate, more sure that this time it won’t wake up.
the face is indeed soft underneath his fingers and warm to the touch, with a cool undertone as he gently strokes it. it’s definitely some kind of polysynth material, and as he stands there, wrench at his side and other tools weighing his pockets, stroking the face of a metal figure that, effectively, crash landed in his backyard, ratchet comes to a decision. he’s going to help.
(oh, he’s kidding himself. he was always going to. he’s hardwired for it, and besides, how else is he supposed to get his kicks since he left those slaggers at back at base? damn if he doesn’t miss orion, though.)
besides, this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since he moved, and there’s no way he’s letting something like this just sit out here among the trees.
he strokes the being’s face one more time, and lets out a sigh of his own. “well, scrappy, guess i’ll be back,” and here, he grins slightly at himself. “don’t go anywhere.”
mind made up, he turns and starts to make his way back. he’s got tools to collect, a sandwich to grab, a few calls to make, and something brand new waiting for him to pick apart.
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i hope someone enjoyed !! feel free to ask questions, i’d be happy to answer them, and i’ll definitely have more of this au coming soon !!
(p.s. sorry for the tag, keferon !! just wanted to make sure and give credit <33)
fic title is adapted from “halo” by starset ! it’s very dratchet coded.
now with chapter two !!
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• character credits belong solely to their respective franchises and creators. all works enclosed are solely my own, and are purely fictional and meant for the enjoyment of the reader. please do not repost, republish, or steal my works without explicit permission, otherwise you will be blocked and reported. ty !! •
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fattummyt · 2 months ago
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Dracula Vlad Tepes | Mathias Cronqvist/Female Reader - Nicked 🌶️
Summary: An accident has left you with a harmless wound from Dracula's fangs. Ancient texts state that the bite from a vampire's fang has the ability to send humans into an extremely aroused state... but what about a nick?
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Author's Notes: Y/N = Your name. I was recently inspired to make some art for this one. Tumblr gets to see it before AO3! AO3 readers had to wait a four year gap for chapter two, but Tumblr gets it all at once! I'm sorry AO3 readers I love you!!
Warnings: brief mentions of blood, slight reader injury, loss of control, restraints
Tags: extreme sexual tension, smut, aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, sweat, guilt, begging
Chapter 1: Tingling
As typical with the drab scenery of the manor, Castlevania was still and lifeless this afternoon.
The only place you could find solace in living--or rather, bubbling-- things was Vlad's elaborate laboratory that he was gracious enough to let you use.
You'd passed most of the day taking down notes in your leather-bound artists block completely undisturbed by your host. So needless to say, you were completely oblivious when he-- as mischievous as he is dashing-- drew close to you from behind and gazed over your shoulder, muttering, "Intriguing."
Instinctually you raised your hands in defense, nearly popping him right in the jaw.
Typical of the vampire race, Vlad's reflexes were plenty fast, but in this instance, not fast enough.
"Damn." He cursed, nursing his bloodied lip.
"God-- I'm sorry, are you okay?"
He exhaled, stilling his rising anger. "It's alright. It's just a mere flesh wound. Believe me, I've healed from far worse."
"Don't sneak up I'm me like that! I was so--"
He licked away the blood from his skin,  freezing momentarily as a look of shock painted his face.
"Give me your hand." He rushed to your side, flipping over your palm to reveal a good-sized set of nicks on your knuckles.
"You're bleeding." He gasped.
"Oh, I suppose you're right. It's just a flesh wound, nothing to worry about."
Vlad was not as satisfied however, cupping your injured hand ever so urgently.
"Y/N. Was this would already there or did my fangs cut you?"
Aside from less than thirty seconds ago, Vlad had never held you so close. You worried he could see the nervous sweat or the anxious tremble in your fingers.
"I-I'm not sure. It's so small I barely noticed."
"--Tell me Y/N." He stared into your eyes with a deep intensity. "Did you enter with this wound or not?"
You reflexively pulled your arm against your side, "--Why are you so concerned? It's a simple nick, nothing more."
He strummed his fingers through his hair nervously, pacing back and forth as you looked on, like a concerned spectator.
"--What does it feel like?" He interjected.
"Nothing, Vlad. It's a nick--" "--WHAT does it feel like? Is there a sting? A tingling? Tell me, what are you feeling in your hand right now?"
You swallowed tentatively at his sharp change in tone, glancing down at the floor.
"I suppose it tingles a bit."
With the rise of his hand, a book levitated from the ceiling length bookcase decorating the far wall, falling open on the table in front of him.
His eyes scanned the page with a look of strict dedication only to be replaced by a look of worry.
"Vlad, what in heavens is happening?"
He blinked the looming thoughts away, collecting himself. He shut the book with a newly relaxed visage, turning to face you.
"I apologize for my sudden change in demeanor, but." He swallowed. "I'm afraid you will not be returning home tonight, as you originally planned. You must remain here in my manor for the evening."
Taken aback by his statement, you backed away from the man.
"What do you mean I 'must remain'? That wasn't what we agreed upon. I must return to the village before sunrise or the people will grow suspi--" "--When you were wounded by my fangs, you were poisoned with a powerful aphrodisiac." He continued, reluctance tinging his voice. "If you leave now... you will not arrive before it begins to take effect."
"A vampire aphrodisiac...?" You scoffed, smiling in disbelief. "I do not believe in such things."
"This is no matter of magic nor fairytale. The ancient texts confirm it. Therefore. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to leave this manor."
You glared at each other in prolonged silence, save the sound of bubbling beakers.
The slim chance that you believed him steadily began to grow as you felt your hand begin to tingle and throb.
"Well." You started. "How do you intend to treat me?"
Your whimpers seemed to echo through the manor as Vlad paced every corridor in its entirety. Even in the deep dungeons below, he felt the call of his namesake falling flippantly from your lips.
As he neared your door again, your distress seemed to have died down to just tired whimpers until he entered the room.
"Vlad." You swallowed, voice hoarse with desperation. "Look at me, please, Vlad?"
"No. Y/N. You don't know what you--"
"--Touch me, please, Vlad." You urged, desperately rubbing your thighs together. "Please, sir, I'm so hot."
"Don't. Please. Y/N, stop." He pleaded, riddled with guilt and shame.
Even now, limbs tied to the bedposts in what is quite essentially your cell, you appeared more defiant than ever.
"Vlad--" You mewled, tugging against your restraints as he pressed his hand over your mouth.
Racing thoughts came looming back into his mind as he stared down at you, sweat dotting your skin.
What a poor, pitiful soul. You asked of none of this. It was his own actions that led to this. How cruel it was of him to tie you down as if you were some sort of vile creature.
In truth, it was he who was truly vile.
A deep tugging in his gut urged him to right this wrong, in some way. To offer you some mercy as a form of relief.
He raised the hem of your skirt to your knees, spreading your legs apart, his hands gliding across your sweat gleamed flesh.
Your muffled pleas fell silent as his hand slipped up your thigh, grazing your thoroughly soaked panties just enough that he noticed the shine upon pulling his hand away.
Your lips moved against his palm as he met your gaze, searching for a sign of consensus in you.
"May I?"
You nodded fervently, your eyes communicating such desperation as your thighs trembled for the touch of his hand.
"Forgive me..."
He raised his hand, unbuttoning his cape, letting it fall to the floor, followed by his ornate black trenchcoat.
"As I'm sure you'll soon become aware that it's been some time since I've..."
His hand hovered over the bodice of your off-shoulder blouse.
"Accompanied a woman in this way."
You watched in lip bitten suspense as his talonous nails dragged down the center of your laced up waistcoat, severing the ties, almost seamlessly.
Your body inadvertently arched as his fingers trailed down your stomach, ghosting over your pelvis.
"Please." Just barely audible, fell from your lips.
Chapter 2: Throbbing
Vlad pulled away to roll up his sleeves and immediately the aching need began to course through your body yet again.
"Please touch me." Mouth uncovered, you whimpered, practically shivering in anticipation.
"Hush now, please. Spare your voice, Y/N. I'll see to it that you're taken care of."
He smoothed his two fingers across your sodden panties, rather shocked to find your lips a bit swollen and puffy.
"My, you're quite further along than I expected. Your inner thighs are covered in ecstasy." He admonished. "How very inconsiderate of me to have kept you waiting."
With as little force as it would require a mortal to shred a sheet of paper, Vlad ripped at the seams of your panties, rendering them useless as he pulled them free from your body.
"Please allow me to offer you some retribution."
Vlad slid his two fingers between your lips, a look of quiet reverence painting his expression.
You gasped, breathing out a shaky moan as he brought his fingers to either side of your clit, rubbing alongside the sensitive spot before gliding thickly over it.
An inadvertently deep groan left his throat, as you throbbed rapidly against him, your moans growing louder as he massaged you in circles.
You panted, his hand pinning your skirt against your stomach rising with your impending orgasm.
"Vlad." and "Please." and some other mixture of orgasmic incantations chorused him as you quickly reached the peak of your orgasm.
Grinding harshly against his fingers as he continued determinedly, his eyes fixated on his task, driving you to your quick and noisy completion.
You looked on in quiet shock as he freed his hand from between your legs, examining his thoroughly slicked fingers and palm before bringing them to his lips.
He savored the taste of you, your musky scent enchanting him, one by one, he desperately sucked what was left of your essence from his fingers.
"What a splendid treat."
"More." Your voice, hoarse from begs and moans, pipes up.
"More?" He added.
“Inside me.” You begged, a desperate tremble in your voice as your body burned for his touch, damn near tears.
Perhaps this was going too far.
Though he thoroughly enjoyed himself, pulling these moans from you; free will to tease you and treat you in such a way.
He'd never forgive himself for it.
You braced your thighs together, a need for pressure growing that much more intense under his watching gaze.
Vlad couldn't possibly turn back around and abandon you in this state.
Sweat permeated your skin and the sheets beneath you, tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
He'd never, even in his most sordid imagination, in his most carnal fantasies, he'd never imagined you so shamelessly craving him. Damn near begging him to spread you open.
Perhaps if he were of stronger will he could resist.
You parted your thighs obediently, readily offering him access as soon he leaned over your form.
Oh, Vlad was sick with how drunk this power over you made him.
You bore no shame in your excitement, your ecstasy, your glee.
Your chest rose and fell as your eyes followed his hands, a smile bitten back between your lips.
His fingers pressed into your tight, wet pussy and he practically shuttered.
With the warm, familiar sensation, something, which laid dormant in him, throbbed to life. Practically rising with need.
How long had it been since he'd last had reason to grow erect, let alone masturbate?
Almost as if you recognized it, the desperate, pained expression on his face, you rushed to beg again.
“Vlad–”
"No-- no."
He urged his hand over your mouth, once again.
This was not about him and his petty needs for self stimulation. This was about you. 
"More, more. Please." You slurred beneath his hand.
He had to help you in some way. 
"Deep inside me Vlad."
To ease your growing discomfort. 
“I need your cock.”
To make you cum. 
He freed his hands from your mouth,  fingers grazing over his cock, earning a subtle jerk of his hips.
He hissed, “My cock. Is that what you want?”
“Yes, Vlad please. It's what I've always wanted.”
It was a treat all its own to watch you become so uncomposed, but to hear you admitting your salacious desire for his body… Vlad could not possibly refuse your call.
Removing his trousers was simply a task he was uninterested in busying himself with, merely slipping his cock free of his fly would suffice your hurried pleas.
The sensation that overcame him as he leaned over your form, skin glistening, clothes shredded by his efforts, your heels curving behind his thighs felt truly predatory.
You pulled it out of him.
You begged it of him.
To ravage you.
To make use of your holes as his own plaything.
Your deepest, darkest desires were steadily dripped into his present mind, diluting his rational thoughts into animalistic urges.
He was frenzied, no longer striving to assist your orgasm, but bringing yours on by chasing his own.
"Deeper-- deeper--"
He severed the ties binding your limbs to the bed frame to grab under your knees, lifting your legs higher. There, he found the impressive spot he was chasing. Where every thrust in pressed the head of his cock deeper in, enough that you'd be seeing stars.
The communication between you two had devolved into high pitched breaths, answered with fevered grunts, chorused by the instrumental of smacking flesh.
He was nearing his end, nails carving boldly into the headboard as his hips smacked against you. His heart raced with excitement, chasing the precipice of his pleasure, his cock throbbing as he was overcome with a jolting sensation he’d not felt in a millenia.
Vlad had collapsed on top of you, his hair ravaged, yet his head clearer.
Far clearer than he’d felt in some time now.
And as for you, slowly, more awareness returned to you. The dark circles at the edge of your vision began to lighten as your other senses, long neglected to focus on your intense pleasure, came back into focus.
“Y/N.” He whispered, caressing your face, voice gentle and low. “How do you feel?”
All you could muster was an exasperated laugh, waving your hand as if to beg for surrender.
He chuckled, glancing between you at the trail of cum spilled across your stomach.
“My. We’ve made quite the mess, haven’t we?”
“We have.” You smiled, biting your lip rather bashfully, as if all a sudden embarrassed by the pleasureful affair.
“I’ll go grab a towel--” “No.” You answered quickly.
“No?” He asked.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, guiding his head down, where he laid against your exposed chest.
“Stay with me, Vlad . ” You whispered.
Your heart panged rhythmically in your chest.
Perhaps even more so than the exhilarating sex, listening to your heartbeat was one of the most foreign, yet nostalgic sensations he’d experienced today yet.
“I can honor that request.”
Secretly, quietly, he hoped that perhaps, one day, if you allowed it, you'd come to know the effects that his bite may have on you yet.
Read the fic on AO3! | Patreon | BlueSky | Instagram | Website | Twitch
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dykeredhood · 10 months ago
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Can’t believe that nobody’s put that scene from Peter Rabbit 2018 with Thomas McGregor angrily cleaning a bathroom while the Anvil Chorus plays in the background on the youtube
I can begrudgingly handle watching a movie w/James Corden voicing Peter Rabbit to see my husband
Thomas, what color are your eyes?
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I need to go back through my General Hux playlist and curate it a little better, right now there are 2 versions of the Anvil Chorus on there and there are probably a few more Star Wars score tracks I could add
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magicalbats · 1 month ago
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Kinktober 2023 Day 28: Kabukimono x Reader
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Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 7362
Warnings: Afab!reader, mommy kink, infantilization/baby play, breastfeeding, nursing handjob, mentioned breeding
A/N: A very lovely reader was asking me about this fic so I said I'd go ahead and preemptively post it here on Tumblr. There are a few days still missing before this one so I'm going to hold off on adding it to the collection on AO3 just to make sure it doesn't mess up the chapter order or anything. But other than that ... please enjoy! 🫶
It’s incredibly easy to forget what he is sometimes. 
A puppet so lifelike and so beautiful in its perfection that you find yourself thinking of him as human more often than not. This should probably disconcert you more than it does, or at the very least it should tickle something in the back of your mind that stands at attention and warns of danger found only in the uncanny. That which is just ever so slightly off. Such a farcical impression of human life can only mean trouble brewing not far off on the horizon, after all. Maybe not today or perhaps not even tomorrow, but some day the wrath of the gods would stand at your doorstep and demand what had been taken from them. 
But Kabukimono’s smile is so sweet and unassuming when you open the door that you think absolutely nothing of it. You invite the blessed doll into your home. Accept the basket of lavender melons he offers with a word of thanks and a gracious bow. Showing him to the dining room of your humble home, you announce his arrival to your older sister who looks up from the swaddled bundle in her arms. She, too, seems not to give it a second thought and greets him with neither hesitation or wariness to edge her tone. 
Everyone in the village knew what he was, what his presence might mean for the future of Tatarasuna and all who inhabit it. But looking at him now as he bends to get a closer look at the baby, you wonder how any one of you could ever truly distrust someone as sincere and endearingly inquisitive as this. There’s a love, an appreciation for life in his deep, rich blue eyes that only seems to spark and glitter all the more while he takes in the tiny upturned face of your niece. An innate respect for the existence of mere mortals, even so pale and drab in comparison to his own, that further softens his already kindhearted expression. 
You wonder, not for the first time, what purpose he had been created for. What role he was meant to fill. You could only speculate that it had not been for the purpose of child rearing, but the way he regards your sister's daughter like he’s never seen anything more precious or worth protecting assures you he would be exceptionally good at it all the same. 
“I’ll go put these away.” You announce to the room, jostling the basket in your hands for emphasis. 
“You didn’t have to bring us a gift to come visit, Kabukimono.” Your sister tells him gently. “You’re welcome to stop by any time.” 
He gives his head a brief shake, that serene smile as eternal as it is unwavering. “Niwa told me it’s customary to bring congratulatory offerings after a new member of the family has been born, and I wanted to respect that tradition. It was my pleasure.” 
Your sister laughs softly in response as you inch towards the door and ask, “Would everyone like a cup of tea while I’m in the kitchen?” 
You receive two affirmatives and a wet gurgle in answer, and a smile curves your lips as you step out into the hall. Crossing over into the kitchen, you quickly store the lavender melons away in the neatly organized pantry then set to work preparing the kettle to boil. You’re halfway through the process of arranging three sets of cupware on a small wooden tray when a faint whimper rises up in the next room over. It doesn’t take long to escalate to a full blown wail as your sister's voice joins in, quietly coaxing and cooing in tender soft tones. It sounds like your niece is having none of it though, and you internally wince at the idea of poor Kabukimono stuck in the epicenter of all that racket but being too polite to excuse himself from it. You should probably go rescue him. 
Dropping everything, you hurry back across the hall only to stop dead in the threshold. The puppets expression, usually unfalteringly kind and patient, has morphed into one of abject confusion as he watches your sister offer her breast to the screaming baby in her arms. That tiny mouth latches on and starts to suckle, quieting plaintive wails, but you can’t seem to tear your startled gaze away from Kabukimono. His lack of understanding is clear, and it suddenly has all of your attention. You’ve never seen someone look so jarringly perplexed over a feeding infant before. 
Your sister glances up then, as if only just realizing in her instinctive reaction to the baby’s cries that she hadn’t stopped long enough to consider the comfort or sensibilities of your houseguest. She pauses at the odd look on his face though, and you rush to intervene for the sake of both parties as much as your own. 
“Sorry to interrupt. Would you mind helping me in the kitchen with something?” 
With an almost mechanical slowness, he turns his head to glance up at you. A shiver promptly races down your spine, and you blindly reach out to grasp the edge of the doorway. Not once in all the time you’d known him had he ever left you feeling so uneasy and discomfited with just a glance. 
“Kabukimono?” 
He appears to snap out of it at the sound of his name. Pretty eyes going big with surprise, he quickly moves to stand up. “Yes, of course. My apologies. I must not have heard you the first time.” 
You don’t think that’s what it is. In fact, you’re sure of it as he crosses the room and steps out into the hallway, but you don’t say anything until you’re both standing in the kitchen where there are two sets of walls separating you from your sister's keen hearing. For good measure, you even quietly shut the door. 
Taking a moment to choose your words with care and consideration, you start to prepare a small plate of rice crackers to accompany the tea. “She’s cute, isn’t she?” 
“Yes, she is.”
“Have you spent much time around babies?” 
He hesitates behind you. “None, in fact. Of course I’ve met some of the younger children in the village but not …”
“None as young as that?” You helpfully supply. 
Kabukimono breathes out a soft, disheartened sigh. “That is correct. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to stare like that. It was — rude of me, wasn’t it?”
“It’s nothing to apologize for.” You get it. Really, you did. But where were you even supposed to begin explaining such a thing to a divinely created puppet if even his own maker hadn’t had the talk about the birds and the bees with him? It’s not as if you were an expert on the topic either … but it was obvious you still knew more than him, and the unmitigated fascination on his face had been plain as day. Almost painfully so. If Niwa had been there you would have simply deferred all responsibility to him but you decidedly hated the thought of explaining what had happened to him even more than you did talking to Kabukimono about it directly. 
Still, that didn’t exactly give you a solid starting point to work off of. 
“Maybe I should just go.” 
You whip your head around to look over your shoulder at him, noting the abashed pinch of his expression. Still so beautiful but clearly ashamed of his own actions even though he really had no reason to be. Or at least you didn’t think he did. “That’s not necessary, Kabukimono. I’m just not sure how to explain something like this. Does Niwa ever get stumped with anything?” 
He cautiously lifts his gaze to regard you with such a hopeful, searching gleam in his eyes that you feel your heart give a sudden wrench in response. “He does, sometimes. Is it really something so complicated though?” 
“Complicated isn’t what I would call it.” You try to laugh it off, turning back to put the finishing touches on the arrangement of snacks. Keeping your hands busy should help you get through the next few minutes relatively unscathed, or so you hoped at least. “Let’s see … I guess I should start by saying that babies under a certain age can’t digest anything other than their mothers milk, so that’s how they need to be fed. I promise you’ll see it often if you start spending more time around newborns. Until they’re older that’s just the way of things.” 
He hums a soft sound of acknowledgment as if he were actively fitting the pieces together in his mind, and that serves to embolden you somewhat. Knowing that he was listening to what you had to say and further applying it to the rest of his baseline knowledge of humans was oddly validating, like you were helping him in some way. You liked helping people. 
You also liked Kabukimono, even if you were loath to admit it out loud. Although he’d thrown you off for a moment there, any sign or trace of that stark uncertainty seemed completely gone now. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know these things. It also technically wasn’t your responsibility to educate him on such matters but you were glad for the excuse to talk with him like this. No one could say for sure how long he’d be able to stay in the village, after all, and these opportunities didn’t present themselves every day. 
So you tell him everything you know about the topic. Which admittedly isn’t much, just this or that which your sister and the other girls in Tatarasuna had told you, but he seems to hang off every word. The pot over the fire starts to boil in that time and you finish preparing the tea before handing him the tray to carry while you take the one with the crackers. Together, the two of you make your way back to the dining room where you’re surprised to find your sister quietly gathering her things. 
“Sorry,” She murmurs, sending you an apologetic look. “The baby fell asleep so I should probably put her to bed and run down to the market while I can. I should be back before she wakes up.” 
“That’s alright, take your time.” You give her a quick smile. “I’ll take care of everything here while you’re gone.” 
“Thank you.” Her gaze drifts to Kabukimono and, like you, she seems to realize he’s back to his usual self again. The subtle tension in her shoulders slips away to leave her as relaxed and unbothered by his presence as she always was. “Forgive me for not staying for tea and for … earlier, as well. I’m so used to being around family and close friends when she needs to be fed that I didn’t even stop to think first.” 
The puppet shakes his head. “Please don’t give it another thought. I’m the one who should be apologizing for my rudeness. I’m still learning these things but your sister has already explained how it works so I have a much better understanding now. I assure you it won’t happen again.” 
Your cheeks warm slightly when she sends you an unreadable look but, thankfully, she decides to save any commentary for later. All she does is nod her head in acknowledgment before shuffling off to put your niece down for her afternoon nap. 
While she gets the baby situated in the quiet bedroom in the back of the house you and Kabukimono set the trays down and get seated at the table. She stops on her way out to say goodbye and a moment later you hear the front door slide shut behind her. Left alone with him, you reach out to take your steaming mug and give your hands something to do. It wasn’t that he made you nervous, you just weren’t always sure what to say to someone who you knew was neither human nor of mortal construct. What did the gods usually converse about, you wondered. 
He doesn’t seem to know what to say either and for a long stretch the both of you just sit there, not speaking and not looking at each other. If it had been just about anyone else you were sure you wouldn’t be having this problem right now but try as you might you just couldn’t quite come up with an appropriate conversation topic. Would he want to continue the discussion from earlier or was it time to talk about something else? 
Much to your relief he eventually clears his throat with a polite cough and makes the decision for you. “May I ask you something?” 
“Of course.” You turn, giving him your full attention.
Kabukimono does the same, evidently more interested in whatever was on his mind than the tea or the rice crackers, as he’d touched neither of them yet. “What we were talking about before … does it hurt?” 
Your brows lift in genuine surprise. How were you possibly supposed to answer that? “I’m not so sure myself, since I’ve never had to do it, but I don’t think it does. Not usually, anyway.” 
He tips his head in question, and you scramble to piece what knowledge you had at your disposal into an articulate explanation. You probably should have anticipated this on some level though. His curiosity seemed to know no bounds but it was usually aimed at Niwa and you didn’t have as many ready answers as you would have liked. 
“What I mean is — based on what I’ve heard, it can hurt if the baby’s teeth have come in and they bite you. I think it can also be uncomfortable if the milk gets backed up but I don’t believe the feeding itself causes any pain.” 
“I see.” He murmurs, glancing down at his lap now. A stretch of quiet falls over the room and it seems to last for a rather long time before he finally draws another stilted breath. “Is it wrong of me to ask questions like this?” 
“No.” You don’t even hesitate. “If there’s something you don’t know then it’s normal to ask about it and learning is a good thing. It’s only natural to be curious.” 
Kabukimono brings his head up then. “Natural?” He echoes you, the look on his face making your chest give another harrowing wrench. You aren’t sure what to call it exactly but he looks at you almost like someone who has found hope in his lost existence. It disconcerts you a little bit, though not as much as the way he’d looked at your sister and the baby. This was different somehow. 
It seemed less startled and more … reverential, in a way.
You have to swallow your nerves before you can speak again. “Do you have a mother, Kabukimono?” 
His expression shutters slightly and he glances away as if you’d struck a nerve. “In a sense, I suppose. I have my creator, of course, although I never met her.” 
“Not even once?” You can’t quite keep the sadness out of your voice and it only becomes even more pronounced when he gives his head a solemn shake. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful. No wonder you don’t know anything at all about this sort of thing.” 
He sends you a slow, considering look before shyly scooting closer to the corner of the table. Closer to you. 
You can see the hesitance in his shoulders but that bright flash of interest is still clear as day in his eyes, and it makes your breath hitch. It’s impossible to predict what he’ll say next when everything about this discussion was so resoundingly unexpected, but somehow what he does finally say turns out to be the very last thing you could have ever guessed to come out of his mouth. 
“I think I’d like to learn, if you would be willing to … humor me for a little while?”
Your stomach drops like a lead weight. “I … I can’t make milk.” You feel like an idiot saying it but it’s the first semi coherent thing that formulates on your tongue. He almost seems to pout even as he nudges himself just a pinch closer, slowly inching around the table. 
“That’s alright. Human milk wouldn’t do anything for me anyway, right?” 
You numbly turn that over in your head for a moment before realizing that that was hardly the most pressing issue at hand here. What he was asking you for … 
“Kabukimono, do you … do you want me to play mommy with you?” 
He doesn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed or a little bit sheepish about it, which was the exact inverse of your own reaction. You could feel your face growing unbearably warm and your palms start to get clammy, but all he does is give you an affirmative nod. No hesitation, no shame. Just a deep, intrinsic compulsion. You might even call it a yearning, the way he just stares at you with such a hopeful gleam sparkling across the blue of his irises. It was too much. 
Your resolve could never hope to stand up against that look no matter how awkward and self-conscious such a suggestion made you feel. 
“W - well,” You glance elsewhere, undeniably anxious with jittery nerves now. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything. If you never even met your mother then … I guess it makes sense that you would want to experience something like that for yourself. Not that I really have much practice with this sort of thing either but …”
“It’s fine.” He assures you, almost right on top of you now. If he got any closer he’d be sitting on your lap — and you weren’t so sure that wasn’t his ultimate goal at this point. “I’m not quite sure how to describe it but … it looked nice, didn’t it? Being held like that and tended to? Cared for …” 
You understood what he meant about this, too. It had been a very long time since you yourself had been cradled and babied by your own mother, and yet not so long that you’d entirely forgotten how comforting it had been. How safe you’d felt. To think that he’d never known that feeling in any capacity very nearly breaks your heart and irreparably shatters any lingering reservations you still had. You were embarrassed at the thought of doing this, yes — it seemed almost perverse somehow, if you were being honest — but your sympathetic heart ultimately overrides that. 
You did like helping people. 
And you also liked Kabukimono. 
So you shyly turn your head with a cautious motion, surprise registering in your mind when you find him mere inches from your face. His expression is some indecipherable amalgamation of hope and wanting, and solemn anguish bred from rejection and sorrow. It’s clear as day that he wanted more than anything to have even a taste of what it’s like to be wanted and cared for. You think, distantly, that you could probably give that to him a different way, if he would allow it. But that’s not what he’s asked for. Not today. 
Bringing your hands up, you gently cup the back of his head with one and tug on his shoulder with the other. He noises a soft sound of surprise, reminiscent of a wounded little thing, but he allows you to pull him in against you without any resistance at all. Soft hair tickles the exposed strip of your neck as his forehead settles against you. He doesn’t say anything though, and he doesn’t move. Recalling what your own mother used to do, you carefully wrap your arm around him so you can rub comforting circles across his back. 
“There, there,” You whisper to him. “It’s alright. I’m here for you.” 
He almost seems frozen in place for a moment, and then he abruptly shivers. Stiff and halting, it feels like the physical manifestation of long suppressed emotion violently bubbling up to the surface. 
You clutch him all the tighter to you in response and, tentatively, Kabukimono lifts his hands to lightly place them on your waist. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with them beyond that but the longer you hold him and murmur soft nothings into his hair the more he seems to come alive against you. With a quiet slither of fabric, he slides his arms around you in a loose hug. It slowly becomes more and more fervent until he’s all bit clinging to your waist like a lost, frightened child. Your head spins with the sudden surge of sorrow that rises in you but you can’t quite tell if the emotions were your own or if you were simply absorbing them through him. 
It didn’t really matter though. You couldn’t bear the thought of turning him away when it was so obvious how meaningful this was to him. You would have felt like a monster shoving him from you now. 
“Shh, you’re okay. I’ve got you. Shh.” Bending close, you press your mouth to the crown of his head in a lingering kiss. “Would you like to lay in my lap, Kabukimono?” 
Slowly, he nods. Still, he doesn’t speak. 
You aren’t sure what to make of his continued silence but he straightens up and gets shifted around entirely of his own accord, so you think it’s probably fine. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to say. You’re in much the same boat as you guide him down to rest the upper half of his body across your legs with his head cradled in the crook of your arm for support, and you take a moment to just look at him. His face really is beautiful. Far beyond any human concept of simple symmetry or fashionable looks. He’s perfect, in fact, and you idly start to wonder how any creator could abandon a puppet so beyond compare. 
Noticing then that his cheeks were a little flushed, which strikes you as decidedly odd, you bring your free hand up to tenderly cradle one side of his face. The skin is smooth and flawless, and cool to the touch, but you can still pick up the faintest note of heat coming off him. It is rather curious, isn’t it? You almost hadn’t expected him to have any warmth at all. Although, now that you considered it, was it his own or was he merely reflecting your body heat back at you? 
With a great amount of reverential care, you trace fingertips over the apples of his cheeks to just brush the dark, doleful eyelashes where they’re fanned out across his skin. They flutter slightly at the contact and then slowly open to peer up at you. There’s a shy uncertainty reflecting in his eyes that reminds you of how he’d looked when Niwa first brought him to the village. It felt like a whole lifetime ago now and the part of you that longs to protect him, see him safe and sound, and this precious spirit of his kept intact, further softens at the vulnerability you see staring up at you. 
“Would you like me to just hold you, or …” Words catching, you valiantly stamp down your nerves and look inward for the courage to go through with this. You didn’t know how to be a mother but for him, for this flawless creation of the gods, you were willing to try. “Or would you like me to nurse you as well?” 
Something you can’t quite give name to flashes across his expression and he demurely lowers his gaze. Kabukimono seems to think about it, perhaps weighing the odds; the gain and the risk he would be taking by crossing this line. You allow your thumb to caress over the roundest part of his soft cheek while you patiently wait for him to make his decision. Then, at length, he stirs to life again.
But rather than a verbal response, he half twists his upper body towards you and brings his hand up. The way he softly paws at your chest is tentative and seeking, not unlike how you’ve seen your niece blindly seek out the only source of nourishment she’s ever known. It’s like an instinctive drive, and you don’t hesitate to give into it as you reach up to tug at the collar of your kimono and pull it open. 
Whimpering softly in the back of his throat, Kabukimono’s expression takes on a truly needy edge now while he closes his fingers around the breast you're not currently working to free from your clothes. He squeezes and kneads it with an idle fascination that makes your breath start to come a little quicker. You’re certain this isn’t quite how playing at this role should make you feel but there’s no denying the way your body starts to grow warm when the fabric sags over one shoulder, allowing your breast to spill out. A distant shudder ripples up your spine at the same time his eyes go big and round. 
It's like he’s spellbound and, as if on command, that perfect mouth falls open to accept that which had long been denied him - either through the cruel negligence of his own creator or the simple lack of organic need for such things. None of that mattered anymore though. You could provide him with it in the here and now, even if it was only a small fraction of the real thing, and you actively ignore how very flushed you feel as you hunch closer to offer your nipple to him. For a split second you think you see a sheen of glistening moisture in his blue, blue eyes but then he closes them at the same moment he seals his mouth around the tip of your breast and forever hides the truth from you. 
Your breath catches with a dull jolt. The hot, wet, somewhat tingly sensation is a complete unknown to you and you’re not entirely sure what to make of it at first. Then he gives your teat an experimental suck and you promptly decide it’s not a bad feeling at all. In fact it even pulls a low breath up from deep within your lungs, prompting you to sigh as you relax into it. 
And it’s a shame, really, that you can’t make milk for him because Kabukimono quickly gives in to the hunger that appears to claw up from the darkest recesses of his heart — or whatever constituted for one in his manufactured body. He voraciously suckles and nuzzles his face up against you until the swell of your breast is pressed tight against his nose. It would have made it difficult for a normal person to breathe, but he is neither normal nor a person. The lack of air doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, and you shudder when his tongue nudges up to lathe the stiffened bud as if he could encourage it to give him what he wanted if he just worked at it enough. 
Somewhat dizzy at the sensation, you turn your head to warily glance over at the doorway but something else catches your attention instead. You follow the line of his body down to the front of his pants and your pulse jumps at the tented fabric you find there. It startles you a great deal, not having expected a puppet to have such a human reaction and that was to say absolutely nothing of the fact he even had such anatomy in the first place! 
Feeling abashed and a bit self-conscious, you peer into his face again but he’s completely lost in whatever hazy, defenseless fog has come over him. He doesn’t appear to notice anything amiss at all, and it makes you wonder if he could really be this oblivious to what was happening with his own body. Or … could it be that he simply didn’t know what to do with it? 
Your heartbeat hammers a wild rhythm against your ribcage as you regard the front of his pants again. This is quite beyond what he’d initially wanted or asked for, and yet the thought of leaving him unattended didn’t appeal much to you. Gathering your courage, you carefully reach down and brush the bottom hem of his top out of the way before placing your palm over the faint bulge. He twitches and whines into the meat of the breast he’s latched onto, becoming almost fussy as he starts to half heartedly wriggle in your lap. His mouth just keeps suckling though, and the suction is so forceful that your nipple feels raw and tender in his mouth now. You’re very aware of how damp you’ve gotten between the legs over just the last few minutes and that emboldens you to close your fingers around the press of him to massage his length through his clothes. If it was affecting both of you like this then surely it wouldn’t hurt anything to indulge in it? 
But it quickly becomes apparent that he’s far more needy than you would have thought him to be, his squirming becoming more pronounced and desperate as the seconds tick by. He won’t let up on your teat though, nor does he reach down to help alleviate his current predicament himself. That left you fully in control of the situation and, surreptitiously, you peer over your shoulder at the doorway. It would be bad indeed if your sister came home to find the two of you like this so you had to make it quick if you were going to do it at all. 
Decision made, you reach for the tie on his pants and tug it loose with trembling fingers. Kabukimono noises a soft sound of question around his insistent sucking but you softly shush him as you work his bottoms down with some amount of effort in this position. “Don’t fret, I’ll take care of you. Just relax, okay?” 
He softly groans into the swell of your breast. Then, to your relief, he somewhat shyly angles his hips up off the floor to help you relieve him of his pure white pants, so virginal and fitting for the holy doll held in your arms. It almost seems like a mockery as you pull them down, revealing more of his lower body to the room as well as to your voracious eyes with every hushed rustle of fabric. The cock that at last springs up with a muted bounce makes your cunt flutter around nothing and he whines, very quietly, but it’s this part of him that strikes you as perhaps the most farcical of all. You’d never seen anything so perfectly shaped to not only match his lean, borderline dainty build but even compliment it too. Neither small nor large, it’s something in the middle that strikes you as ideal. 
Heart in your throat, you wrap your fingers around that length and give it a muted squeeze. 
Kabukimono sucks in a sharp breath, stiff and halting when he at last lets up on your teat for a moment. You’re acutely aware of the tremor that races through him as his shuddering lips loosen and then fall away completely to issue a threadbare moan against the spit lathered, aching nub. The sensation makes you mirror his response and, trembling against one another, you hunch further over him. 
“Shh.” You whisper again, stroking his cock with a steady hand. “I’ve got you, sweet boy. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” 
“T - that’s …” 
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” 
Brows knitting, he seems to struggle to find a response before giving up and offering a stitled little nod instead. His squirming becomes increasingly fitful but you just clutch him all the more fervently to you with the arm wrapped around his shoulders while the other works his length. It’s vaguely fleshy under your palm, yet so firm and unrelenting that the manufactured quality of his physical vessel can’t be overlooked. He clearly isn’t a real boy despite how very human he looks, and rather than discouraging that impression this unexpected anatomy of his just further highlights the fact. People weren’t perfect like this, but dolls were. Only puppets could be this hauntingly alluring, if their creators wanted them to be. The unnatural origin of his creation didn’t mean he wasn’t just as deserving of being nurtured and cared for as any other person though. And he was a person. Of that you were sure. 
In fact the artificiality of his body, so obvious and unavoidable when you were looking at him like this, touching him like this, only makes you want to see him tended to and coddled all the more. With your pulse jackhammering a wild rhythm, you timidly push your chest out to offer your breast to him again and coaxingly prod his warbling mouth with the stiffened tip. Kabukimono looks truly dazed and even disoriented when he finally cracks his eyes open to peer up at you again. There’s a question on his face, an unspoken oath that lingers just behind his lips, but still he can’t quite seem to find his voice. 
He was overwhelmed, that much was clear, and you carefully bend your head close to press another kiss to the crown of his head. “What’s wrong, sweet one? Do you want me to stop?” 
“No.” He croaks out immediately. “P - please … don’t stop.” 
His slim hips give a weak, twitchy jolt under your hand as if to emphasize what he was requesting of you. Practically begging you for it. Of course you were happy to oblige. 
Issuing a low mewl into the statically charged air, Kabukimono lets his head loll back against your supporting arm as you tug on his cock with more certainty in the repetitive motion, sighing quiet moans up at the ceiling. He doesn’t quite seem to know what to do or how to process what’s happening but some instinctive part of his mind must kick in a moment later because he haphazardly starts to nudge his pants the rest of the way off. You keep pulling on his cock the whole time, secretly delighting in the way he fiercely shudders in your hold, and you especially like the way he spreads his legs wide once he’s finally freed himself of those hindering clothes. 
Left naked from the waist down with only his short kimono all askew and rucked up around his delicate waist, he cranes his neck and latches onto your offered breast again. You can’t stop yourself from softly groaning when he starts suckling with a new found voracity borne of an intense, insatiable hunger that makes the molten heat in your belly curl tight. Your chest gives a dull throb at the desperation you can feel bleeding off him now and your cunt quickly follows suit with a sympathetic flutter of its own. 
Emboldened with undeniable arousal, you release his cock long enough to reach up and yank the other shoulder of your top down. Then you gently take his hand so you can guide it to your neglected tit where he eagerly grabs and paws at you without needing any further encouragement to do so. His thumb clumsily brushes your soft nipple, as inexperienced as he is uncertain, but his innate enthusiasm more than makes up for any lack of technical skill. You felt like you were teetering dangerously close to the edge, and this was the first he’d touched you in true reciprocation. It was maddening, in a way. 
“Ooh … Kabukimono, if you do that —“
Curiously, but without any apparent hesitation, he pinches the bud between thumb and forefinger to give it a tentative tug. The intense tremor that bolts through you like a vicious lightning strike has you sitting up a little straighter, actively fighting the urge to start squirming too. Your pussy thrums with it as hot, coaxing pulses wash over you despite the total lack of forethought he gives the gesture but you still recognized it for what it was. 
An innocent, inquisitive touch that did not stem from prior knowledge or experience in such matters. All he likely understood was that touching you like this made your breath come quicker, your heartbeat pounding such an erratic war drum crescendo it seemed likely to burst right through your skin at any moment. You were sinking in it, grateful for the unrefined, almost shy way he tweaks one nipple while deeply feeding from the other with his mouth. 
And through it all, you just keep dragging your hand up the exquisite length of him before making the slow descent back down to the base again. At some point you curl your hand lower to gently cup his balls in your palm, and you’re admittedly quite surprised he has these too. You were far from any kind of doctor but you’d heard whispers about how these were what truly defined a man and made them different from women, but Kabukimono wasn’t a man. What use did he have of this firm yet pliable sack between his legs? You didn’t understand it. Not really, but you gently massage them anyway because men seem to like that and Kabukimono does too. 
Weak and hazy, he halfheartedly kicks at the floor with a restless agitation that makes his pelvis lift higher, as if begging for even more of your attention. Your own excitement was making it difficult to draw a full breath now as you give him a faint squeeze before brushing your fingers lower still. Teasing over the softly raised ridge between his legs, you marvel at the way his expression pinches to accompany the tortured groan he lets out. He was so malleable and vulnerable in your lap that you think you could have probably done anything at all to him in that moment and he would’ve accepted it without question. 
“Do you like that, little love?” You ask, prodding into his taint with a bit more pressure. “Does that make you feel good?” 
Unable to keep his trembling mouth latched on any longer, Kabukimono releases your nipple and tips his head down to look at where your hand disappears between his thighs. He practically wheezes at the sight — either at his own nudity or the sensation of your fingers touching him in such an intimate way — and he offers a quick, stilted nod. “Y - yes … it feels good. I — I feel so good, mommy. Please don’t stop.” 
You gasp at the vertigo inducing shock that slams into you all at once. You’d never been called that before, nor had you expected him to say such a thing either. What surprises you most of all though is how much your body positively flares for him because of it, and you hurriedly bring your hand back up to grip his cock again. When you drag your stiff fingers to the tip and find sticky slick beading there you give a dull, startled little jolt. He was even excreting fluids here too? 
“I won’t stop, lovely boy. Don’t worry about that and just relax. Let me take care of you, okay? You’re safe here, I promise.”
He’s panting so hard he can’t seem to formulate a coherent response, so he just nods his head again. The distracted hand on your breast eventually falls away entirely to clutch at your side in tugging desperation while you steadily work him over at the same steady pace as before. You can see the mounting tension in his body as much as in his face, and your own arousal seems to ratchet up and mirror his with near alarming accuracy. By the time Kabukimono’s narrow hips start to judder a few moments later you too feel like you’re going to find release any second now. 
You valiantly try to shove such thoughts to the back of your mind though, for you had a role to play and a perfect boy to tend to, and you could feel his cock warmly pulsing against your palm in warning. “Are you getting close? What a good boy you are, Kabukimono. Go ahead and cum for me. Cum for — cum for mommy and then we’ll get you cleaned up, alright?” 
He chokes on a harsh intake of air, as if he’d been sucker punched and the sound got stuck in his throat. Hips bucking and pitifully mewling, he wraps his trembling arm around your middle so he can clutch you fiercely against himself and seal his mouth around your throbbing teat again. You seethe through your teeth at the heightened sensitivity, toes curling against the tatami mat underneath you, but you just keep tugging at his twitching length even when you felt like you could just sob. Never before had you been so terribly, achingly aroused, and the way he almost frantically suckles at your teat certainly doesn’t help. 
You know the moment he’s reached his peak because his lower body gives one last, agonizingly stiff lurch up into your hand before going completely still. The vibrating tension that runs through him travels straight up his cock, internally flexing under your fingertips, until it materializes out of his dainty slit in a rush of creamy white. Pulse after pulse, it rushes up out of him and oozes down your knuckles to drip onto his pelvis, and you just stare in rapt fascination while he moans into the meat of your breast. You almost hadn’t thought anything at all would come out, and that he’d simply experience the same kind of twitching orgasms you did when you rubbed your cunt in the middle of the night or in the bath. But this was clearly real ejaculate, as if it had come from a real man. Was it just as potent too? Could he seed you the same way your sister had been seeded by the husband out working on the open sea? 
And far more importantly — for what purpose had he been made to so closely resemble a human male that even his testes would produce this kind of discharge? 
You had so many questions. A boat load more than you’d started with, if you were being honest, but now was not the time to give voice to any of them. Not yet. 
With his cum sticky and cooling on your knuckles, you glance down into Kabukimono’s face again and you’re glad to find his expression relaxed now. His fine brow was no longer knitted with high strung tension or distressed yearning for something he’d never had but wanted oh so very badly. There was no trace at all of that lingering uncertainty you’d seen earlier, and he seemed perfectly at ease now. Comfortable. 
You have to stamp down the urge to reach up and brush some of those silky forelocks back from his face, deciding it could wait until after you’d wiped your hand clean. He just looked so content lying there in your lap, snuggled deep into your chest with his lips gone slack but still idly working around your puffy nipple, like he couldn’t quite stop. Like he really was just a baby in your arms — albeit a much too big, far too mature to be believable baby, but a babe nonetheless. 
It was precious and sweet, and oddly satisfying in your mind even though this, too, probably should have been disconcerting to you. But it was simply yet another uncanny facet of the altogether preternatural existence he represented. Something that was human and yet not. A man but a boy, but not a real boy, and just as with everything else that was unsettling or just ever so slightly off about Kabukimono you were willing to overlook it. All too happy, in fact. 
For you could not play the role of mother if you looked at him with doubt or uncertainty in the back of your mind. You would baby him, if that was what he wanted, and you would do it well. 
You swore you would.
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