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thecreelhouse · 4 years

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sweet spot \\ part 1

Paring: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character (Lex)

Word count: 4,803

Summary: modern AU where Robin tells Steve about cam girls, and he falls hard for a stranger on the internet. Modern romance! This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve written yet, sorry, not sorry. Smut, obviously. But it’s cute, too. Part one of two!

Warnings: language, webcamming, smut, low-key daddy kink, that’s it basically

A/N: got this ridiculous idea last week while listening to doja cat’s cyber sex, and here we are? I haven’t written any sort of smut~~~ in like.... 8 years. Sorry if it’s obvious how rusty I am lmfao. Aged the characters up just a tad, too, but it is talked about like all the events of ST happened, just in present times lol. Separated into 2 parts bc it’s so lengthy. Hope y’all enjoy it at least lol. If not, just uhhh... ignore this. Title is from “sweet spot” by Kim Petras!! btw, for real, shoutout to all sex workers, y’all hustle harder than anyone.

Friday nights are usually meant for going out, partying, the usual reckless shit that most mid-twenty year olds get into. Another Friday night had rolled around, though, and it was another one that Steve was spending home alone.

It’s not that he didn’t have any friends- he ended up moving out of Hawkins with his best friend, Robin, and they’ve been roommates for several years now in the city. After high school, and wandering college and career options- all failed attempts- he decided it was just best to enjoy life in the moment, stop worrying so damn much about what his parents wanted for him, and move out. It could’ve been better, but he struggled with the majority of his generation, without the work they wanted, with or without a degree.

So, he’s made the best of what he could since. And even years later, he’s not too sure how to spend his downtime now that it’s not filled up with chasing after unhinged teens who have taken it upon themselves far too many times to become monster hunters. How do you go from protecting a bunch of kids (protecting- more like, taking sucker punches for everyone, literally), to having too much free time for yourself. Is that even possible?

Steve was flopped on the couch in his and Robin’s apartment, mindlessly scrolling through movie options on whatever streaming service had the best choices these days. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere, as nothing seemed like a good enough distraction.

It’s not even that he minded being such a homebody these days; it saved money, and it was an easy going life compared to the bizarre events he stumbled through in Hawkins years ago. It was peaceful, quiet. Sometimes, a little too quiet, though.

Steve never liked to admit it, but he was lonely these days. Robin saw right through him, though, and would manage to drag him out to the bar some nights, trying to be the best wing-woman she could be, but no one ever caught his interest anymore. Everyone was too similar to other girls he’s dated before, or didn’t want anything serious at all, or found him to be too clingy- the list could go on, really. He tried to ignore it altogether, as it just made him feel worse.

It was easier to spend time alone when you couldn’t break your own heart.

Sure, sometimes, the occasional one night stands weren’t the worst if Steve was in the mood, but that was even hard to be excited for these days. He was tired of how empty it felt, and longed for that intimacy with someone he was really, truly connected with. Not just for looks and small talk.

And, alright, fine, sure, he didn’t need a relationship and sex and all that in between, nobody necessarily needs it, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want more with someone genuine. Someone he could care about. Someone he could love.

Breaking his familiar cycle of lonely thoughts, Robin slammed the door open, laughing to herself and stumbling through the doorway.

“Well, at least one of us had a good Friday night,” Steve thought to himself, shaking his head at his best friend.

“Steeeeeeve,” Robin slurred, skipping over after she kicked her shoes across the apartment.

“Robin.” Steve deadpanned, and Robin’s cheery, drunk smile flipped into a frown. She dropped to the other side of the couch, studying his face, wondering what had him upset tonight.

“You shoulda’ gone out, it was lotsa’ fuuuuun!” She giggled, curling under a throw blanket. “Lotsa’ pretty girls. You missed out.”

Steve hummed to himself, rolling his eyes at Robin. “Did I? Not like you came home with anyone.”

Robin lightly smacked his arm, “Hey! Dingus. Maybe I didn’t want to bring anyone home. Kinda depressing when you’re here moping around all alone and shit.”

“Gee, thanks, Rob.”

“I just think you should get out more! You’re not gonna meet the love of your life wasting away on this couch.” She grumbled, arms crossing. “You don’t have to keep binge watching these shows alone, you know. Bet there’s some cute girl out there that looooooves being a homebody just as much as you do.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. Some people like going out, some people don’t. It is what it is.” He countered, and she scoffed back.

“Say that as much as you want, but it’s not gonna get you laid-“ Robin’s smartass comment was cut short by Steve throwing a pillow at her head. “- god, you’re so moody lately too. You definitely need to get laid.”

“Shut up, dingus.” He said, going back to scrolling through the tv choices again. Robin stole the remote back from him, though.

“That’s my line!” She snapped, laughing. Steve cracked a smile before diving headfirst into another pillow, wanting this conversation to end. “Jesus, would you at least leave this couch today? Go read a book, knit a hat, watch some porn-“

“Robin!” Now he really wished this conversation would end.

“Well I’m not the one who’s got all this,” Robin threw her arms wildly over her head as she continued, “pent up frustration, or energy, or whatever!”

Steve sighed before mumbling, still face first in the pillow, “I hate even talking about this,” his head finally turned a little, only so he didn’t suffocate, “but not even that is exciting for me anymore.”

Robin rolled her eyes, at his dramatics. “Steve, as your best friend, your wing-woman, and roommate, please, go fucking hook up with someone already. Your stress is stressing me out! I mean, for fucks sake, go watch a cam girl or something if you don’t like going out anymore.”

Steve’s head turned more, finally sitting back up with brows furrowed in confusion. “A what?”

Robin mirrored his expression, “Dude, it’s 2020. How do you not know what a cam girl is?”

Steve sat, clueless, eyes darting away, then back at Robin, “No?”

Rolling her eyes, she got up, still wrapped in the blanket like a burrito, and headed to the kitchen area. Steve wasn’t sure if he should follow or not, until she began to yell out an explanation, while rummaging around the fridge.

“It’s like, the new wave of sex workers, independent from the shittier side of the porn industry, cute as hell,” she rambled on, pulling multiple things from the fridge, before opening them all on the counter. Steve eventually made his way over, noticing among her large mess- half full carton of orange juice (he’d definitely have to get a new one that she didn’t directly drink out of), a tub of ice cream, and grape tomatoes. He was forever puzzled by Robin’s drunk snack choices.

“So, people watch these girls, and then they tip them, and that’s how they make bank. It’s admirable as hell, they’ve got guts and more money than I’d ever see at once in my life. Sex work is real work, man.” Robin continued, hiccuping a bit.

“Tip them for what?”

“To play bingo with the viewers- no, you fuckin dingus- what do you think?” Her sarcasm had an extra edge when she was drunk, but it was still funny to Steve. “I mean, sure, sometimes they just hang out. Do whatever. But usually, obviously-“

“Okay, okay, yep, I got the point. Geez, Robin, sorry not all of us have this knowledge on hand.” Steve quipped back. Robin got up, wrapping the blanket closer, leaving her mess on the counter.

“Here-“ she pulled her phone out, searched with sleepy eyes, and then sent a link to his phone, “- have a fuckin’ blast. You’re welcome. I’m going to sleep.”

And with that, Robin padded down the hall to her room, leaving Steve completely baffled by this unheard world of cam girls, and of course, leaving her kitchen mess for him to deal with, as well.

Unable to reach sleep some time later, Steve tossed and turned in his bed. Frustrated, he pulled his phone off the nightstand, and opened the text from Robin with the link she sent earlier. Hesitantly, his thumb hovered above the screen, wondering if this was something he even wanted to see.

“Guess it can’t hurt to look if I can’t sleep.” He thought, and opened the link. It loaded to a site that was a platform for those who wanted to cam model, and those who wanted to watch. So many links, categories, and thumbnails of really, really pretty girls. They didn’t look like the ones in those cringeworthy adult films, plastic and unrealistic- which, was fine if someone wanted to look that way, it just wasn’t really what he found attractive.

These girls were all in different poses, some wearing outfits that complimented their body shape, some wearing nothing at all. Steve sucked in a breath before locking his phone and throwing it down next to him on the bed.

“This is ridiculous. What the fuck am I doing?”

A few more minutes passed, and sleep still was nowhere to be found, so he reluctantly picked his phone up again, and started scrolling once more. A part of him felt wrong for this, it felt a little too realistic, like these were all just your average “girls next door” and he was looking where he shouldn’t. But another part of him wanted to see more, and let curiosity pull him in further.

Steve’s eyes fell on a thumbnail of a girl that stood out among the rest to him. Hesitantly, he clicked the link, and it opened to a live video of a young woman, he assumed around his age. She was stunning, to say the least, with long, silver and lavender hair, but maybe that was a wig... ? He couldn’t tell for sure, but regardless, she looked like a faerie or some cute shit like that. The girl wore a lacy, babydoll cut dress, thigh highs, and her skin shimmered among the lighting in the room around her. Her surroundings reflected how cute she was, as she was laid across a pink couch, lollipop in hand, like she was casually hanging out with friends. Pop music played softly in the background as she lip synced along.

It took a few minutes for Steve to figure out how the chat worked, and that it was easier to take everything in on a full screen rather than his phone, and opened up the chat room that belonged to the girl- her username was just as cutesy, PeachyKitten- on his laptop from there.

“I see some of you still lurking about, don’t be shy! We’re just hangin’ out tonight.” The girl said while twirling the lollipop through her fingers. Her voice sounded heavenly to Steve. His eyes fixated on her glossy, plush lips as she spoke, and wondered how it felt to kiss someone like her, how it felt to have lips like hers around his-

“Oh, thank you!” The girl replied to one of the viewers tipping her, just because. Her sweet voice shook Steve from the path his thoughts began to go down, feeling embarrassed for himself.

“I wasn’t really planning on playing tonight, but I did get new toys, so...” she left the camera frame for a moment, rustling in the background before coming back in view, with several vibrantly colored toys piled in her arms.

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he watched her flaunt and flash different toys used for who knows what, senses overwhelmed as his mind raced while he also tried to listen to her talk on.

“I have an idea- let’s play a fun game. Q&A? You guys ask me stuff while I play, and we’ll see how well I can focus and how long I can last, yeah?” The girl’s innocent features twisted just a bit into a devilish smirk. “Each tip you guys make sends the vibrator’s power up juuuust a little higher.”

Steve felt how hard he was already against his sweatpants, and wondered just how long he had been hard for already. This random girl from the internet was about to be the death of him, and she hadn’t even actually done anything sexual yet.

Exhaling deeply, he threw a hand through his hair, wondering just what the hell he got himself into here, before biting the bullet and finally entering info to sign up for an account. He joined into the chat just in time for the girl to start her Q&A game.

“Let’s lay down some rules, okay? Nothing personal and obviously invasive- like where I live or some shit, creeps.” She giggled. “Otherwise... all questions, sexual or not, are free game. Ask away, and I’ll answer as best as I can! You guys control the power of the vibrator with the tips, got it? By the way, I see some new cuties joined in, so hi there! My name’s Lex, let’s get to know each other.”

Lex winked into the camera, turning up the charm she held. Steve’s eyes fell away from her for a second as he saw the chat box speed up with activity, people already spamming with their questions, others just saying nice things about Lex. A few vulgar, disgusting comments floated through every now and then, but they were quickly blocked by Lex, without letting her positive mood falter on camera.

Repositioning herself, Lex moved onto her knees while on the couch, lifting her dress just a bit, revealing nothing underneath. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as he held back a moan from involuntary slipping out. He noticed how curvy and a little squishier her body was, not like the models most guys his age drooled over. Lex showed off the bottom half of her body confidently, even with her stretch marks and imperfections in full view. All Steve could think about was how good it would feel if her thighs were wrapped around his he-

“Alrighty, first question-“ Lex started, pulling Steve from his thoughts turning dirty again. Flipping the vibrator onto the lowest setting, she gently ran it along the folds of her center, teasingly. “- Oh! I like this one- ‘what’s my favorite thing to pass time with’-“

Before she could answer, a moan slipped past her soft lips, and a chime echoed through the speakers of Steve’s laptop. Someone had tipped Lex, and sure enough, the vibrator automatically kicked up a notch, causing the pause in her voice.

Lex bit her lip, a bit dazed, trying to regain focus on answering the viewer’s question. “I love staying in, honestly. Like, I enjoy adventures, too, but there’s not much more I love than staying home in comfy cozy PJs, watching movies! Or reading. Sometimes, painting, too.”

Lex managed to finish her answer before a soft groan escaped her throat. She leaned back against the couch, legs up, showing full view of how wet she was, and it wasn’t until then that Steve wondered when the hell he started palming himself this hard, and for how long.

Another chime rang through, and the speed of the vibrator went up again, causing Lex’s head to fall back onto the couch as she moaned. A small ‘fuck’ made its way through the speakers, and Steve was sure he could have came right then and there.

“You guys are making this challenging from the start, huh?” She said, voice breathy and face flushed red. With one hand holding the vibrator on her clit, her free hand traveled up her body, playing softly with her breasts, trying to read another question. “What’s my favorite animal? Probably bunnies! They’re so adorable!”

Steve was floored with how Lex could multitask. Robin wasn’t kidding when she said sex work was real work.

Feeling a little more at ease as time passed, Steve typed in a question, remembering something she mentioned earlier: “what do u like to paint?”

Instantly he began second guessing himself, wondering if that was a boring question at a time like this. But only a second passed before Lex read his question out loud, answering with: “all kinds of stuff! I’m not very good at it, but I’m learning you don’t have to be good at something-“

Another chime, another tip, another notch up on the vibrator. Lex moaned out, louder this time, echoing in the room she was in. Without thinking, Steve’s hand reached down under his waistband, desperate for some sort of touch, even if it was his own. Slowly, he began stroking his length, letting his own moans tumble out of his mouth.

“- if- if you want to enjoy it!” Lex managed to finish, shaky, but still managed to get the sentence out. Steve felt overwhelmed; excited, because Lex answered his question, and excited, watching her struggle to get the answers out against her whines and moans.

Barely missing the sound of the chime over his own heavy breathing, Steve just caught it in time, watching Lex’s body begin to shake, a string of whimpers following.

“I- god- that feels so fucking good.” Lex moaned out, tugging at her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Steve watched her through hooded eyes, wiggling out of his sweatpants for a better grip on his member.

“I’m so close, so so close-“ Another whine escaped Lex, and Steve could feel himself getting closer to the edge in time with her. With his free, shaky, hand, he tipped her quickly, not paying much attention to the numbers he entered; he just wanted to push her to the edge, too.

The chime followed quickly after, and before Lex could even thank him, she began to ride out her high on camera, whimpers and moans traveling through the speaker to Steve, who was also riding out his orgasm at the same time. His eyes almost fell closed, but he couldn’t look away from how gorgeous Lex looked as her climax took over her body, making the end of his high that much sweeter.

“Holy shit,” Lex breathed out, sprawled out on her couch. “You guys are too good to me.”

As Steve came back down, he instantly felt a strange sort of shame he had never felt after anything sexual. Present time coming back into focus, he slammed his laptop shut, not watching Lex say goodnight.

Shame fell heavy on his mind, feeling dirty, but he was way too exhausted to think about it tonight, and let sleep overcome him quickly.

———

Sunlight poured into Steve’s room, and he immediately buried himself deeper in the covers, not ready to wake up yet. His body felt exhausted, still, and it didn’t take long for him to remember why.

The shame he felt the night before flooded back, and he was lost as to why he even felt it. It felt like an invasion of privacy, watching Lex’s show, but it wasn’t necessarily wrong. It was her job, after all, and he did tip like you should, so what was the problem?

“Shit. How much did I even send her?”

Steve pulled his laptop back open, refreshing the window, and seeing in his payments he sent-

“I’m a fucking dingus.” He groaned out loud to himself. There, in plain, bold text, was the number $100- definitely not $10 like he had thought he typed in. He guessed it was only fair, since $10 wasn’t a whole lot in the long run. He wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was for cam girls, and wasn’t sure if there was any at all.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he noticed the message box on his account had a notification. Confused, he clicked it-

PeachyKitten: hi cutie! Thank you so much for the generous tip last night! Most newcomers don’t do that, so I really appreciate it! Let’s chat and play soon- one on one, okay?

-lex <3

Steve felt his regret fade away reading the message, but only for a moment. “She has to be nice- this is how she makes a living. I can’t get caught up thinking I’m special, or some shit.”

Still, he didn’t feel as bad as he originally did, and it wasn’t like he was spending that money on going out or anything...

Stretching, he noticed how hard he was again, and sighed, annoyed at himself. This stranger on the internet had him swooning already. He just wanted to learn more about her, and it didn’t hurt that she made him weak in the knees just with that smile.

Steve replied back quickly, trying to play it cool, and hoped time would pass fast until they got to chat again.

———

Palms clammy with sweat, Steve waited for Lex to reply back, giving the okay to start video chatting. She said she needed a minute, and that minute felt like an eternity. It had been all day, and he was grateful he had off this weekend to laze around and wait for a dreamy, internet stranger. He felt like a fool, but he couldn’t control himself. He was hooked.

A gentle chime rang out, and the call screen came up on Steve’s laptop. Hesitating before answering, he gave it a moment, trying not to seem desperate, and finally picked up. His screen loaded, showing himself in the smaller corner, buried in a cozy hoodie and sweats. Lex’s screen loaded after, and she wore a loose tank top, large cardigan, and pajama shorts, like she was enjoying a cozy day at home, the way she said she liked.

“Hi, cutie!” She beamed, giving her well known innocent smile. Steve felt his stomach do flips, not sure what to say or do, completely speechless as his jaw dropped open, and no sound fell out.

Lex giggled at his stunned silence. “You okay over there, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat, growing red in the face, forgetting for a second his name is on his profile and wondered how the hell she knew it at first. “Y-yeah, sorry, I just- I don’t- I’ve never done this before- any of this-“

“Don’t be nervous! We’re just hanging out, right?” Lex took over so casually and comfortably, like she wasn’t chatting with one of her customers. “How are you?”

“I- I’m good, y-yourself?”

“I’m alright, still in a good mood from last night.” Lex smirked, looking off, before looking back into the camera. “I just wanted to personally thank you, you didn’t have to tip so much. I usually don’t ask for personal calls first, I let boys earn ‘em. But you had me wondering.”

Steve felt his face grow even deeper in the shade of red from earlier, “Wondering what?”

“Just who you are. What you’re about. You learned about me last night, I was wondering what there is to learn about you.” Lex replied, twirling the ends of her hair- and sure enough, it was still the silver and lavender mix.

“Well, uh...” Steve paused, not sure how to answer that. “I’m not- I don’t want anything from you- if that’s how this all came across. I’m not expecting anything. You- you’re just really cute and uh- god I’m so bad at this-”

“You’re fine, it’s okay! I’m sorry if I made you nervous, putting you on the spot like this. If anything, I just wanted to say thank you.” Lex said, smiling genuinely. Even if it was a mistake, Steve didn’t regret how much he tipped her now. If anything, it made her happy.

“If anything, I should be thanking you, I didn’t know what I was getting into... but I liked it.”

“Oh? Well I’m glad you did.” Lex said, blushing a bit.

“I’ve been in a weird funk lately and- Jesus Christ, why am I telling you this- sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I could take your mind off of things for a little while, at least.” Lex smiled, “I can do it again, if you want. Here, download this.”

A link popped up in the message box; it opened a download for an app to wirelessly control a vibrator. Steve’s breath stopped short, eyes now fixed on Lex’s lips as she bit the bottom one, and his eyes grew dark, thoughts headed elsewhere.

One thing led to another, and clothes were lost- Steve’s mind went haywire over how beautiful Lex was- while the once awkward air was now filled with gasps and moans, and although Lex was so much more experienced than he was, his confidence didn’t falter back. Slowly, he grew more comfortable in this bizarre situation, where he was in control of the toy she used on herself, from who knows how fucking far away.

Lex gasped sharply as Steve turned the power up higher, causing her to reach the edge. “I’m c-close, daddy.” She managed to stutter out, and that sent Steve even closer to his edge, moaning out. Lex didn’t seem to be phased by the name slipping out, engulfed in her own pleasure. With a free hand, he switched the vibrator up even higher, sending Lex above and beyond her limits.

Steve followed close behind her, groaning out a “good girl” towards Lex, and that surprised himself. He watched as she rode out her high, naturally glowing as she let herself go, and he could have sworn he saw her lips twist up at the sound of the nickname. It was all more than enough to send Steve through his own climax, and hard.

Skin tinted shades of pink and red, Lex fell back against her couch, just like the night before, trying to catch her breath, a sweet smile appearing across her face. Something about how she presented herself as someone real, not bouncing back up right away like a machine, not shutting off her emotions- because Lex was a real, living, breathing person- got to Steve. Not acting, not faking it. As if they weren’t held apart by this technology barrier. It was a whole new world for Steve, and he just wanted more.

“Gimme a second.” Lex croaked out with a raspy, tired voice. Softly laughing, she was still lying back on her couch, exhausted. “I didn’t think you’d crank it that high up.”

Steve, also trying to catch his breath, laughed, feeling his face heat up. “Sorry, I didn’t think a lot of things were going to happen that did, so...”

A beat passed before Lex sat up, face still flushed as she gazed into the camera, then eyes flickering to Steve onscreen. “Like what?”

“‘Daddy’, huh?” He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath. Lex bit her lip, looking away.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who called me a good girl, so, I don’t wanna hear it.” She countered back, causing heat to rise to Steve’s face again.

Still feeling somewhat confident and brave enough, he let his softer side show through to Lex, “I- is it- okay if I say I wish I was there right now?”

“For what, cutie?” Lex asked back, voice still sweet as pie.

“Sorry- I’m just a real sap I guess-“

“Don’t apologize.” Lex interjected before taking a breath. “I wish you were here too, I could definitely use some cuddling right now.”

“I just- I wasn’t sure if that was, like, overstepping boundaries, I guess.”

“Usually, I don’t hang out after a session like this... but, you’re cute. Really cute, Steve. Do you mind hanging out a little longer? Unless you’ve got somewhere to be or-“

“No! I mean, no, I don’t have anywhere to be right now.” He corrected quickly before continuing. “I’m kind of a homebody these days.”

Like they didn’t just fuck over the webcam, the conversation began to naturally shift, as if they were just in the same room with one another. Lex’s face lit up a bit, “See, I knew there’s stuff about you that I wanted to discover! What’s your favorite movie lately? Wait- hold that thought, I wanna clean up first, and then you better have an answer when I’m back!”

After they both were cleaned up and in new, comfy clothes- Lex’s hair seemed to magically change from the silvery mix to, long, bouncy brunette curls (Steve realized he was right, it was a wig, probably to conceal her real identity just a little online)- they both began to just talk, get to know each other, like they didn’t get to know each other through a webcam site. Steve felt the nervousness continue to fall away as he and Lex carried on conversation, watching her facial expressions change as she talked so animatedly, so bubbly, excited over the simple things in her life. She listened intently whenever Steve talked about his likes and dislikes, bonding over how similar they were in so many interests.

Steve made a mental note to thank Robin later for pushing him to try this whole webcam thing out.

#i’ll post part two later!! maybe tonight?? idk if anyone’s gonna even care for this LOL #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x ofc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #modern!au #webcam!au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x oc #stranger things x you #sweet spot #my fics

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komahinasecretexchange · 4 years

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Title: Between the Sky’s Grasp

Author: @magioftheseas

For: @kokikomachi

Rating/Warnings: T (darker themes such as abuse and violence are mentioned in a story within the story but in the main plot, there’s just the underlying toxicity of idol culture, permeating the atmosphere with a off-putting stink)

Prompt: Idol Izuru goes on a date with a Fan Komaeda (with an additional reference to the Sweets Paradise DR X Illustrator Cafe Collab Designs because I have no self-control)

Author’s notes: You probably wanted something fluffier and I’m deeply sorry if that was the case. I spend more of my time thinking about Perfect Blue than I should but while the story isn’t nearly that dark, I did still aim for the more darker elements since I’m pretty invested in them. I also feel bad because I feel like I could’ve worked in all three prompts and ultimately left one out, but hopefully this is still good! Dark fairytales are a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine and yeah, I could talk all day about idol culture, so hopefully this fic has appeal on those grounds if nothing else. I hope it has a more general appeal, too, aha. I kinda dig how the characterization turned out. I feel like this fic could easily be expanded, but for now, it’s a modest 5K. Please enjoy. <3

The song playing is one of his own. Someone hums along as they shift through CDs. With a restrained squeal, that person finds what they are looking for—and Kamukura recognizes the cover immediately. It’s his latest single.

“They have it after all!” is exclaimed. “How lucky!”

“So, you are a fan?” Kamukura asks softly and coolly. The other jumps, cheeks pinking as they twirl on their heel to face him. With that pallor and snow-white hair, the red of their blush stood out significantly. “I could not help but overhear.”

“I-I, um—yes!” They seem to be having trouble meeting his gaze. If Kamukura Izuru wasn’t already confident in his disguise masking his features, any remaining concerns would have been waived from just how uncomfortable and anxious the other was when being addressed. “I’m sorry, was I being too loud? When I get excited—I hear I can go a bit overboard, aha.”

“It is alright,” he said simply. “I spoke up due to being curious about you.”

“Are you a fan of Kamukura Izuru, too?” There’s a flicker within that gaze, though the fan’s eyes remain modestly diverted. “I collected everything of his—even the stage musicals. Even now hearing his voice puts my heart at ease.”

He’s infatuated. How boring. Kamukura clicked his tongue, remembering his manager’s words. I should still press further.

“There are other rising stars growing considerably in popularity.” Because they are more human. Because they put forth more emotion. Emotion which makes up for the lack of talent. “Kamukura Izuru being overthrown may be inevitable.”

“I-I definitely don’t believe that! Kamukura-kun’s incredibly talented and his voice is indescribably striking!” the other protested. “There’s no one else like that!”

Talented. All I really have is talent. This fan has provided me with nothing else. How boring.

“True. I suppose he is one of a kind. Just like anyone else.”

“You’re quite rude, you know,” the other pointed out irritably. “And I thought my social skills were poor. What bad luck. But I suppose I should’ve expected it.” With a pause, he gives the CD a fond smile before pushing past Kamukura. “Excuse me.”

“What is your name?”

“My name?” They paused, lips pursing. “Komaeda Nagito. What of it? I’d rather not continue to associate with you.”

Kamukura’s lips twisted at the irony.

How interesting. How will you react, then?

“That is a shame. I would prefer to continue our interactions, then, even if you already detest me.”

“Haaah? Why? Are you a masochist?” Komaeda’s head tilted. “What’s your name?”

“Hinata Hajime.” The lie slips off his tongue with ease. “Allow me to treat you to dinner. As an apology for my…poor social skills, I suppose.”

Komaeda blinks at him, eyes wide for a moment. The invitation left him baffled and mulling over it, and Kamukura could tell he was too taken aback to immediately say no.

“I insist,” he pressed. “I really would like to apologize.”

Even if I truly do not care.

Komaeda finally shrugged.

“If this ends with you stabbing me in an alleyway, I would still turn out alright. So why not? Oh, but, if this is an elaborate ploy to mug me, I’ll give you money here and now if you want. Um.” He waved the CD. “After I buy this. May I at least keep this?”

Huh.

“I have no plans to steal from you. Or to stab you.”

“If you say so…if you lied, that’ll reflect worse on you than on me.”

This fanatic—is actually peculiar as a person.

Interest flared in Kamukura’s gut, his heart picking up at the realization. It was an odd, almost overblown reaction—but it was one that drove him forward in a way he’d never experienced before.

Is this love at first sight? Or mere excitement?

His manager would be so shocked to hear of this, and that did bring a smile to Kamukura Izuru’s face.

“I’m not lying. Purchase your find and we shall leave together.”

Komaeda nodded.

“Okay, Hinata-kun.”

I can’t help but hope this feeling will fester.

–

“Tell me about yourself, Komaeda Nagito.”

“So demanding off the bat. How comforting,” Komaeda remarked with wry sarcasm as he sipped at his soda. “Um. I guess I’m a college drop out. I’m looking to get back into class but there have been—difficulties. I don’t have a job but I get by on inheritance. I have no outstanding features or abilities. Except I guess I’m good at cleaning. Maybe I should get a custodial job, then?” He begins to more muse to himself. “I have no need for money, though. I’m utterly aimless.”

“Interesting,” Kamukura replied. “You contribute nothing to society.”

“Yep!” Komaeda chirped. “I’m a total waste of space! I do try to help out other people who are much more worthwhile and capable but I tend to mess that up a lot, too. I really have nothing going for me except ridiculous luck, probably. The fact that I’m alive in spite of my many shortcomings and flaws must count for something. Haha.” A pause. “Although maybe a custodial job would be good for me after all…but I worry about making a bigger mess than I can clean up…”

Someone this useless should definitely evoke a number of emotions. Exasperation. Frustration. Disgust. Contempt. Pity. Such emotions could be applied to a song. I doubt this is what the manager had intended, however.

“You’re just listening to me ramble,” Komaeda observed, head tilted. “Don’t you have anything better to do, Hinata-kun?”

“No, I do not.”

“Oh. Okay.” He sips more of his water, quiet and contemplative. Likely still confused by this turn of events. Kamukura considered, for a moment, about informing him of the truth—but to shift that look of pondering curiosity into fervent fanaticism had little appeal. Especially when Komaeda met his stare, and those wide gray-greens narrowed. “So, what about Hinata-kun?”

“You want to know about myself?” Quirking an eyebrow, Kamukura pressed his elbow against the table as he leaned into his hand. A gesture made only because of the seeming appropriateness of it. “I am much like yourself. Directionless. Aimless. There is little to discuss.”

“Oh. I see.” Komaeda frowned. “Is this a social experiment?”

“Yes, it is. Quite perspective, aren’t you.”

“Ah, my luck would put me in this kind of situation, wouldn’t it,” Komaeda murmured. “Now is this good luck or bad luck? I wonder what to expect.”

Expect?

Kamukura did straighten at that.

“Komaeda Nagito. What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Komaeda cheerfully brushed him off. “It doesn’t concern you, Hinata-kun, if you really are just some nobody experimenting.”

Kamukura frowned. He couldn’t help but feel—frustrated at such a response, but he said nothing more as no response felt appropriate.

Their food was set out by the friendly waitress, who predictably smiled when Komaeda cheerfully thanked her. With a nod and the typical boring platitudes, she was off. Kamukura paid her no further mind. Instead he focused on Komaeda, humming as he bit into a slice of toast.

“It is unusual that you ordered breakfast food for lunch,” Kamukura remarked. “Perhaps that is a mere preference.”

“It’s not that strange,” Komaeda said through a mouthful of toast. “Quite a few people are like that.”

“I suppose.” He began to cut his meal into perfect pieces, each the same size. When he brought one to his mouth, it was with elegance. Not a drop out of place.

“The way you eat is much more unusual,” Komaeda pointed out. “But, I guess it’s endearing.” He softly chuckles into his hand. “Is this your first time on a date?”

“Could you tell?” Kamukura asked dryly. Komaeda laughs again.

“I-I’ve never been on a date before either and yet somehow I could still tell, haha!” Komaeda Nagito ends up coughing a few times, having to down more of his drink so that he could breathe. His cheeks are flushed from the exertion, and he clears his throat while avoiding the other’s gaze. Despite that, his lips are still curved upwards and it’s—certainly a sight.

“How would you say this is going?” Kamukura asked, less dry than before. “Would you care for a revisit?”

“What kind of wording is that?” Komaeda snorted, covering his mouth. Another muffled string of giggles. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t mean to laugh so much, it’s just…it’s just…!”

People laugh for all kinds of reasons. Mirth. Humor. Embarrassment. Disbelief. Misery. Although I have never laughed at all. Another aspect that others find unnerving. Inhuman.

“Another date,” he found himself saying. “After this one.”

“M-Mmm…” Finishing the rest of his drink, Komaeda’s eyes were wide and inquisitive. “Okay. If you’re going to demand with such a scary face.”

Kamukura nods, eyes intent and intense and yet Komaeda smiles without a care.

Oh.

Komaeda’s smile is bright.

–

“Yooo, Kamukuraaaa! Heeeey!”

Kamukura pointedly ignores the calls in lieu of staring out a window, out at the clouds.

“Hey, heeeeeey!!”

Rather obnoxiously, he can see the caller reflected in the window glass. A wide smile—but not like Komaeda Nagito’s. Not like his at all. Komaeda wasn’t so outstanding with his appearance and force of personality. Kamukura stares at his own reflection, at his own features that have been called striking many a times.

“Enoshima-san!” someone else calls, firm yet friendly. “Kamukura-san seems busy. How about I show you around elsewhere?”

“Urgh, laaaaame! But would you really do that, Maizono-san? Aww, such a doll!”

That Enoshima is finally led away, and Kamukura lets his eyes flutter. He can’t see Maizono’s expression in the window, but he has observed her enough times.

“You do seem pretty deep in thought, Izuru-kun,” is remarked by another presence. The more mild-mannered man who likely kept his head down when entering rooms, although he too, had a particular smile. One that was likely as weathered into his face as the early wrinkles despite an arguable youth. “Have you been thinking about what I suggested?”

“Go out more, have more experiences, you may find the world more beautiful,” Kamukura droned, ever unimpressed. “Truth be told, those suggestions were too vague to be helpful.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” the other apologizes, smile apologetic. Again, Kamukura thinks of Komaeda. “But, for what it’s worth—you do seem to be in a better mood than usual. Has something happened after all?”

“You could say that,” Kamukura spoke more to the window, eyes more entranced by the overcast clouds floating above, blanketing the blue sky. “Kirigiri-san, your only desire is for efficiency. The details do not matter.”

Kirigiri’s face surely twisted a bit, but that smile would still remain.

“I do worry about you as a person, Izuru-kun, not just as your manager,” he goes on to say. Kind and gentle, like any well-meaning adult. “So, when you suffer a slump, it concerns me deeper than you may think.”

He assumes I think so shallowly of him. Even though he is, indeed, a shallow person.

“Perhaps,” Kamukura says. “The next song should be based on the sky.”

“Ah.” There’s a soft laugh from his manager. “That’s a surprisingly quaint subject for you, Izuru-kun. Head in the clouds, huh?”

He’s a shallow, shallow man.

“Something like that, I suppose.”

The perfect manager for an even more shallow individual such as myself.

–

He does not always write his own songs, because he finds he has too much and too little to say at the same time. And yet, when he finds a topic to focus on, it’s with perfect precision. Like a surgeon with a scalpel, he cuts through the ideas and meanings to delves into the core. Kirigiri had once compared his lyrics to a scholarly paper with one of those not-quite laughs. Despite the dryness of such a comparison, he had still been entranced by the song when recorded.

And yet, Kamukura Izuru could not say he felt much. Once he poured out everything, he was nothing more than a husk to be detached and left to rot. And yet, he was expected to continue. To write another song. And another.

Eventually, he is given the option to have a different songwriter—but he is told the results are less effective. Less interesting. More boring. And the brightness of the spotlights—both literal and metaphorical—are headache-inducing.

Truth be told, he’s not sure what the point of it all is. He simply remains because he has no direction.

No direction except for Komaeda Nagito, waiting by a sculpture of birds, with a couple pigeons even flocking by his feet. No aim towards anything except Komaeda meeting his stare and waving him over with a grin.

“Hinata-kun! It’s a special exhibit today!” he exclaims. “It’s the Underworld! One of the pieces is a re-imagining of Orpheus and Eurydice! There’s also paintings of spirits related to Taiwanese folklore…”

“Death is our certain, its hour uncertain,” Kamukura replied, cryptic and lyrical and Komaeda’s eyes sparkled.

“I recognize the reference! Hinata-kun’s actually quite well-read! How impressive!” Komaeda gives a round of applause. “You might have well seduced me then and there! Aha, kidding, kidding!”

With a twirl on his heel, Komaeda beamed up at him.

“Come on, Hinata-kun! Let’s hurry up and go inside!”

Kamukura is well-used to simply falling in line. To being manipulated and pulled along without complaint. He follows Komaeda ever compliantly here as well—and yet.

There is something else. Something that pulls him in rather than along. Even though Komaeda is lost within the museum booklet, still rambling about the various displays and exhibits. There is a minimal amount of space between them; it is all that could be considered necessary. And yet, Kamukura contemplates being closer. Pressing his shoulder to Komaeda’s. Allowing for the tickle of those wild white curls against his cheek.

It’s different. It’s odd.

“The map says this way, Hinata-kun!”

Kamukura follows. Ever compliant.

–

“Y’know, one of my favorite songs from Kamukura Izuru is about death,” was said at one point. Komaeda is looking upon a depiction of the Underworld, ever taken in. “It’s a natural human curiosity—and yet, it made me feel like no other. In that moment, Kamukura Izuru could’ve had his hands around my neck with how taken I was.”

“I see.”

“Such an impassive response!” Komaeda did pout but it was good-naturedly. “Hinata-kun, you strike me as hard to please. Except you’re here with me so I wonder how true that is.”

Komaeda skipped ahead to look at more art pieces. Kamukura followed after him. It’s largely quiet, despite the humble crowd gathered and scattered about. There are some couples, but mostly it’s groups college students, taking notes and talking amongst each other about their assignments. Komaeda does glance at them as he passes by but he’s careful not to linger. He doesn’t even make a remark.

There’s laughter from the group, and Komaeda nearly trips. Kamukura catches him swiftly, and takes note of how Komaeda’s face is flushed.

“I’m sorry,” is said as his date almost slumps into his arm. “Um. I feel like—I’m suffocating, Hinata-kun. Can we go outside for a bit?”

“Mm.”

–

There was a song I heard once—about a pair of children trapped in a museum. I listened to it, listened to the supposed heart in the song, and I still felt impassive. However—

Komaeda had clung to him as they made their way outside. Komaeda was slight and frail, as if simply dropping him to the ground could shatter him. Even through his coat sleeves, he felt the chill of Komaeda’s grip sink into his skin.

He remembers his song about death. The one Komaeda had mentioned. It is then and there, he realized how shallow and vapid it was.

“Sorry, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda murmurs to him in a soft voice, one that could so easily be crumbled by the wind. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Kamukura presses him close, embraces more of that chill and softness. Komaeda stiffens but he relaxes despite his clinging grip remaining ever tight.

How shallow and vapid have I always been?

–

The words come to mind, but never with emotions behind them. There is an art, of course, to pace and cadence. To beats and melodies.

“You really are talented, Izuru-kun.”

He thinks of wrapping his fingers around Komaeda Nagito’s neck. The image is quick to morph, with his hands moving upwards to instead cup Komaeda Nagito’s jaw. Brushing his thumbs over Komaeda Nagito’s cheeks and lips. Komaeda Nagito’s smile without a care.

“While you’re brilliant, you’re just—missing something.”

Komaeda Nagito sighing, pressing into his touch. Relaxing. Smiling.

“Why don’t you go out and just—experience the world a bit? You’ll find what you’re missing sure enough.”

It had been a ridiculous suggestion, because he knew what his manager wanted was undefined and vague. It was ridiculous, because to ask an idol to open up more to the world was dangerous. Treacherous. One might as well welcome contempt.

Kamukura Izuru knows that idols are expected to exist within a constrained paradox. Open to everyone, available to no one. Sincere while obscuring most of their true selves. Expected to act human while seated atop an inhuman pedestal. The perfect person in turns of looks, charm, and personality—a façade that was never to be shattered lest the pieces cripple the person.

It was—boring. Uninteresting. Egregious and yet expected.

Even Kamukura Izuru, who never really saw himself as a person, recognized the folly and impossibility. Really, approaching someone in spite of the dangers was an inevitability. Fixating on them for a change of pace was expected. Logistically speaking, it could have been anyone. It didn’t have to be Komaeda Nagito.

“Whenever you’re all deep in thought like that, I can’t help but worry, Hinata-kun.”

“About what?”

“About whether or not you’ve decided to kill me!” Komaeda exclaims with such wide-eyed seriousness, Kamukura notes birds scattering from the sound.

“If you truly held such concerns, you should worry more about your instincts of self-preservation,” Kamukura pointed out, settling on the bench, listening to the leaves rustle below and above. “You’re quite the peculiar person, Komaeda Nagito, not rejecting someone you distrust.”

“I haven’t seen a reason to reject you quite yet,” was Komaeda’s simple response. “And it’d be boring to avoid every bit of potential danger. Besides, I’m curious about you, too.”

Curious, he says. Thus, anyone else could be in my position. In this situation. Sitting with Komaeda Nagito in the park, staring at nothing in particular.

Kamukura tugs idly at his hat, conscious now of his wig and color contacts. The disguise he wore that reflected in Komaeda’s innocent stare.

“Do you wish to know more about me?”

In that moment, the rest of the world felt disconnected. Komaeda hummed thoughtfully, and he shrugged.

“Maybe? I wouldn’t know if I’m that curious about you.”

“Have you ever been that curious about anyone?” Kamukura finds himself asking. “Your beloved idol, perhaps?”

“No way! That’s way too presumptuous! Besides.” Komaeda laughs. “We’re not on the same level at all.”

“I suppose.”

“You only suppose! So naïve, Hinata-kun!” Another laugh. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t understand at all?”

“I cannot read your mind, Komaeda Nagito.”

“No.” Komaeda pauses briefly, rubbing his lower lip with a perplexed furrow of his brows. “Ah. Maybe it’s—you don’t understand why I love Kamukura Izuru as an idol?”

“It’s because of his talent,” was the obvious answer.

“Maizono Sayaka-san is also a very talented idol and I don’t love her nearly as much,” Komaeda corrected, shaking his head. “It’s more because of his presence. Even when in the same vicinity, Kamukura Izuru feels so distant.”

Distance is both a strength and a weakness for an idol.

“Come to think of it, Hinata-kun gives off that feeling too,” Komaeda went on. “Even when right beside you, you feel unreachable.” He leans against him. “It’s not as comforting as it is with Kamukura Izuru. If anything, I get incredibly anxious.”

Komaeda presses against him, rubbing his face into his shoulder.

“Mm… Kamukura-kun.”

His fingers trail down his arm, tugging gently at his sleeve.

“Even like this, I’m rather anxious. Shouldn’t you reassure me?”

Kamukura patted his head. Komaeda clung to him.

“Better than that.”

Kamukura kissed his forehead. Komaeda flinched, flushing quite darkly.

“W-Worse than that! Too much! Too much!” He rubs where Kamukura’s lips had been. “U-Urgh! I-I might faint, Hinata-kun…!”

Kamukura snorted softly.

“Ah!” Komaeda covers his eyes next. “Way too much! Now you’re smiling, Hinata-kun! It’s creepy!”

Smiling?

Kamukura stilled, impulsively wanting to feel it with his hands. He doesn’t. At least, not when Komaeda is still close to him like this. It would be—inappropriate.

“A-Ah, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda lets out a squeal when Kamukura presses him even closer, presses him into his shoulder so that it is physically impossible for Komaeda to see the expression on his face. That expression which no one else has ever seen.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda whined. “P-People are going to stare.”

“We can go somewhere more private, then,” is the obvious remark.

“E-Eh?!”

“Somewhere like your home, Komaeda Nagito,” Kamukura says then. “Shall we go?”

“What a thing to ask… Hinata-kun, you’re so dangerous.” Komaeda laughs. “And I’ve always lived so recklessly.”

He has no idea how this goes both ways, Kamukura thinks and it’s the first time it truly occurs to him. If anyone were to know—if even Komaeda Nagito were to know… I could be destroyed so easily.

The idea was beyond exhilarating.

–

Komaeda lived modestly but also sparsely. While it was a comfortably-sized home, it also was minimally furnished save for shelves of books and CDs. There were a couple of trinkets, but little else décor. Kamukura slipped off his shoes, and he breathed in the smell of bleach.

“I just cleaned earlier,” Komaeda explains about seeing his nose wrinkle. “I enjoy cleaning. I might even be good at it, ehe.”

“If you cleaned any further, I wonder what would remain of this place,” Kamukura replied, shuffling after him. “Goodness, your kitchen looks completely unused.”

“I don’t use it,” Komaeda said, just a little flustered. “I don’t know how to cook. My fridge isn’t really stocked either. I typically eat out. It’s not the healthiest way to live but—it is what it is.”

“Convenience is a virtue in these bustling times.”

He runs his fingers along the various spines of books. He pauses when he notes that there’s a journal on the table. He politely ignores it as he sits.

“Sorry, I don’t have a television,” Komaeda apologizes almost meekly. “I also still need to buy a new tea kettle. Actually, all I really do when I’m hope is read, write, and sleep.” He gives an almost careless shrug. “Maybe stare out the window for hours if that’s the mood.”

I’m the same way. I know how empty such a pattern is.

“I like writing stories and song lyrics!” Komaeda exclaimed next, lighting up as he indicated the journal finally. “This is full of ideas. They’re all awful, but not having anyone to share them with is boring so feel free to read through.”

With a huff, Kamukura flipped through. Indeed, there were meager attempts at poetry, even a few mindless scribbled sketches with the skill of a toddler. One in particular, caught his eye.

“The Rotten Wolf?”

“Ah, that one’s embarrassing,” Komaeda laughed, cupping his cheek. “But what do you think of it?”

Kamukura squinted, trying to decipher the truly abysmal writing before skimming through.

There was once a boy lost and starving in the forest. As he sulked, he was found by what seemed to be a friendly wolf. The wolf led him to his owner’s house, which was made of candy among other confectionery treats. Happy, the boy gorged himself to his heart’s content. When the witch returned however, shrouded in shadow and insulted by the insolence, that witch imprisoned the boy and snapped at the wolf.

The boy was terrified as the wolf was ridiculed. Eventually, however, the witch had the wolf bring the boy meals meant to fatten him up. Realizing that he was going to be eaten afterwards, the boy refused to eat anything. The wolf tried to cajole him, but it was to no avail.

The boy would then begin to cry, to the wolf’s dismay. Any attempts at comfort were ignored, even the wolf apologized frantically for putting him in this situation. After days past, the wolf was further scorned, punished, and even starved for the boy’s disobedience. The boy saw how cruel the witch was, how the witch sneered at what a pitiful monster the wolf was.

The witch finally grew fed up with waiting and decided to throw the boy into the oven then and there. However, while preparing the oven, the wolf snapped and shoved the witch inside, shutting it and trapping the witch to their death. The boy, dazed and dizzy from his self-induced starvation, could only watch as the wolf retrieved the keys to his cage and trotted over.

Mustering up the last bit of strength he had, the boy not only freed himself but sank to his knees in gratitude before the wolf.

“The witch was wrong,” the boy said, running his fingers over and over through the wolf’s coarse fur. “You are not a monster, wolf.”

For a while, the wolf enjoyed the affection he had never known before. His tag began to wag furiously, thumping like a racing heart against the ground.

“No,” the wolf said, for he too, was delirious and giddy and salivating. “I am a monster. But I will keep your kindness within me always. I’m sorry.”

And with that admission, the wolf gobbled the boy up, laughing and sobbing all the while.

Kamukura blinked once at the ending, he blinked again at the crude scribbles of what was to be assumed was a wolf tearing a boy limb from limb.

“It’s a miserable story, Komaeda Nagito.”

“I thought so, too!” Komaeda exclaimed, as if affronted. “It’s so depressing! Not hopeful at all! And, yet.” He frowned. “When I thought about the wolf taking the boy home, it didn’t sit well with me.”

“Perhaps this is a reflection, then, of a deeply held belief,” Kamukura said. “One so unpleasant that even you do not like to acknowledge it, and yet, it still resurfaces. Time. And time again.”

That of an abused monster who takes further destruction over compassion and forgiveness. I wonder—if Komaeda Nagito learned the truth about me, what would he think? Immediate love? Reverence? Or would he be wary and afraid the way that boy should have been?

“Aha, you sound so contemplative, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda hummed then, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did something strike you?”

Komaeda’s gaze briefly flickers between him and the open notebook. That smile waned. His lips pursed.

“What I would give to know the thoughts swimming behind that dense gaze of yours.”

You would surely drown if you knew.

“Y’know, Kamukura Izuru’s voice is also so densely packed with meaning, regardless of the words being said,” Komaeda went on. “It was overwhelming. Suffocating. And yet, I found myself enraptured. Hinata-kun is—different from that, of course. You’re tangible for one thing.”

An idol should not be tangible.

And yet, all the same, he took Komaeda Nagito’s frail, pale hand and held it within his own.

“So much of you is vague and indecipherable,” Komaeda went on, ducking his head with pinking cheeks. “However, you are still tangible, Hinata-kun.”

He squeezed Komaeda’s hand. It’s cold.

“I…think this is enough.” Finally, finally, he releases and pulls back, putting the appropriate distance between them. “I apologize. I may have pushed boundaries if not outright crossed them.”

“Eh?” Komaeda’s expression remains innocent if inquisitive. “Why does that matter to you now, Hinata-kun?”

What kind of question is that? Shouldn’t the answer be obvious? Then again, Komaeda Nagito really has no self-preservation at all, does he. He allowed it to escalate to this extent, and was clearly prepared to matters to go even further. Even deeper.

“I apologize,” he found himself saying in lieu of anything else. Explanations. Confessions. He felt deeply in the wrong. How bizarre. The sudden wave of guilt was—painful. “I truly apologize.”

Komaeda frowns.

“Goodness. I really don’t understand you at all. But I guess I forgive you.”

“I used you,” he burst out with. “Are you that detached?”

“I let you use me because I didn’t care, yes,” Komaeda admits it so easily. Kamukura sees himself and it’s startling. “I thought it would be interesting, after all.”

Despite that, despite everything, Kamukura takes Komaeda’s hand and squeezes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’m sorry. I didn’t care either at first—and that was wrong of me.”

How treacherous this is, not just for an idol but for a person.

“You’re upset, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda’s frown deepens. “I really—don’t understand.”

“One day I hope you do,” Kamukura whispered, running his thumb over Komaeda’s bony knuckles. “For now, it’s best we part. Thank you for indulging a stranger—but please, for your own sake, be more careful.”

“Aha! What are you, a parent?” Komaeda laughed without a hint of mirth. “I’m not a fan of that, even if I’m definitely going to feel a little lonelier after you leave. Please don’t forget about me when you go, Hinata-kun?”

“I won’t.”

“Oh, but if you’re going to use me to tell embarrassing stories, I’d rather you didn’t,” Komaeda went on, waving his free hand. “I’d rather just remain in your thoughts if that’s okay.”

“Very well. I—do not think I can share you with the rest of the world either way.” Kamukura inhaled. “Because, I would like to keep you safe, I’ve realized. Which is why—it is best that we part.”

“Mmm, still don’t understand but I’ll accept it all the same, I guess.” Komaeda smiled brightly. “Hinata-kun, it was nice meeting you. Oh! Should I give you a farewell present for putting up with me this long?”

Kamukura is quiet for a moment before he reaches out and ruffles Komaeda’s hair. Komaeda giggles at the gesture.

“Just your regards are enough, Nagito. Thank you. I apologize. Please—take care.”

With that, he stands. Komaeda skips after him, following him to the door.

“If I ever see you again, can you tell me more about yourself?” Komaeda asks as he retrieves his shoes. “Like, maybe your actual name, perhaps?”

Ah. What a selfish desire on both our parts.

“Kidding!” Komaeda chirped. “I’m not nearly as indulgent as you are!”

Kamukura hummed, not responding as he slips on his shoes and opens the door.

“Take care, Kamukura-kun.”

He immediately froze, but by the time he spun on his heel, Komaeda had already shut the door between them. And there was nothing more to it.

Nothing but to duck his head in further apology before finally going on his way.

–

“Ah, good morning, Kamukura-kun.”

“Good morning.” He nods politely, playing with the petals of the various flowers set in a vase. “Early as usual, Maizono Sayaka-san.”

“Haha, yes, and that’s not the only thing we have in common either,” Maizono chirps, holding up her own bouquet of lilies. “How have you been? How are things going with Kirigiri-san?”

Always so quaint. Always with ease.

“I arrived early to give myself time to think about what to tell him, actually,” he said. “I would not be surprised if a certain someone caught wind of the ridiculous assignment that he gave me.”

“Enoshima-san might have mentioned something like that,” Maizono admitted rather sheepishly. “If you’re insecure about it, you shouldn’t worry, Kamukura-kun. Kirigiri-san’s not really expecting anything grand, I don’t think. Of course.” Brushing past him. “You’re not the type to admit to insecurity, even as part of the performance.”

“No, I am not. But. I did realize the folly of Kirigiri-san’s demands.” A pause, in both his words and Maizono’s steps. “He asked for something impossible. And something I ended up unwilling to share, anyway.”

“Ooh, how scandalous,” Maizono joked ever good-naturedly, such a practiced actress that the edge was near perfectly obfuscated by her sweet laugh and smile. “But it’s good to have some privacy from the public eye. Just be careful.” She does hesitate for a moment before smiling again. “You know how Enoshima-san is about gossip. And even Kirigiri-san can be stern. Not like his daughter, though.”

It’s similar. The way Nagito smiles compared to this.

“It’s selfish, but I hope I see that person again,” he whispered.

“I hope so too,” Maizono said honestly. “I can already tell you’re much brighter, Kamukura-kun. Just try not to be blinding! I can’t lose to you, after all!”

With a cheerful wave and skip, Maizono fled that scene. Idly, Kamukura wondered about her, but inevitably, his mind went back to Komaeda Nagito. It’s painstakingly simple for that image to warp in various ways. From twisted and troubling—to soft and sublime.

There was a note attached to the letter he got. The handwriting is neat and fancy, nothing like Komaeda Nagito’s shaky penmanship.

Too dizzying. Too distracting. Too blinding.

And despite that, a smile pulls at his lips despite the fact that he is still utter devoid of joy.

There is no scientific explanation for him and what he evokes the way there is for the sky and its sensations. And even though that is absolutely illogical, Komaeda Nagito is both as consuming and as distant as that same sky. How difficult for an idol. How difficult for me.

All the same time, he thinks he would have remained in blissful yet wretched emptiness if not for him and that counts for something.

I do want—to see his face in a crowd one day, but I’m not that selfish.

“Ah, Kamukura-kun!” Kirigiri lights up easily upon seeing him. “Ready for today already?”

“Yes,” Kamukura says, turning away even as everything about it lingered. “Of course.”

I’m happy to have just been heard by you. I do pray I can meet you properly one day. Perhaps at the end of all of this where the sky ends and the world begins.

#kamukoma #fanfiction #komahina secret exchange

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melodiesofblueroses · 4 years

Text

Flower Shop (Saeran x Reader)

Warning: Rather lengthy and maybe ooc!

Everyday, right when the doors opened, the same girl would burst into the shop and pick up exactly a dozen pinks. Saeran didn’t think much of it during the first few days it started. She could be buying flowers to enrich her home or gifting them to someone. Days turned to weeks which turned to months. She never failed to come at eight o’clock sharp and pick up the same flowers each day, even when the weather was unfavorable and the roads were iced with a thick sheet of snow in the sidewalks. Her determination was admirable. Maybe that was one of the traits that made him fall for her.

Every day he would notice something cute about her. The way she smiled when surrounded by flowers; the way she avoided looking him in the eyes when paying, as if embarrassed that she was a regular; her furrowed brows when told that there were no pinks left in stock; her sweet hums when walking around the shop, thinking that the store was empty and that no one could hear her. It had been a while before Saeran realized that he had fallen for her. So much of her persona could be told through the actions she took.

Eight o’clock sharp, and the tiny bell above the door rang. He looked up from the chrysanthemums that he was tending to and noticed her. She dressed in casual clothes, as usual, dressing in a beige knit sweater and navy jeans that were worn a bit at the ends. Her smile never faltered. Every day she came in wearing the same warm smile as she went up to the counter to pick up her dozen pinks.

“Your flowers are at the counter,” Saeran announced, watering a few daisies that sat by a window. She looked down at her feet, twirling a strand of hair around her index before muttering a small ‘thanks’ and dropping the money off at the counter. It was another one of her quirks that he had noticed. She tended to bite her lip or the inside of her cheek when nervous or a bit shy and play with her fingers. He had found it a bit cute, but their interaction was nothing short of one between a customer and a salesperson. While their interaction was short and conversation was at most two sentences, Saeran found himself day-by-day growing attached to the mysterious girl. He wanted to find out where she went with those flowers but gradually grew interested in her daily life. What did she do during her days? Did she also enjoy gardening just as much? Perhaps she owned a cute little garden in her backyard which she tended to during her free time. It wasn’t long before he realized that he had fallen for her.

He was seated in a little booth of the small ice cream parlor that was just around the corner from his shop, eating his vanilla ice cream on a cone alone. It was a pretty frigid day outside, but Saeran always seemed to have room for ice cream. Perhaps it was due to the sweet memories of sharing a popsicle with his brother when the two of them were younger. Whatever it was, Saeran seemed most at peace with flowers and ice cream. He looked out the parlor window, watching people pass by and going about their daily lives.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure pass by on a tarnished, yellow bike. It might have been his imagination, but it was the same casual sweater from the morning that was riding the bike. Quickly glancing towards the streetlight, he found her waiting impatiently for the light to turn red, carrying a bouquet of yellow pansies in the basket that clung onto her bike. Saeran was once again intrigued by her figure. She had never spoken more than a few words to him in a quaint voice, so he was curious as to what her voice sounded like. Was it like a cute, soft voice that made him feel relaxed, or was it more like a loud, active voice when she spoke with such enthusiasm about the topics that interested her? For a second, however, she seemed a bit nervous, biting her lip and checking the map she held in her hand. Saeran wanted to go help, but one it would be awkward for him to appear and ask, and two, she would be long gone by the time he got up. A few buses passed by, blocking his view of the lady. When they left, she was gone with them.

The next day, at eight o’clock sharp, he was expecting to see her smiling face as she walked through the glass door. Minutes of waiting turned to hours. This was odd. She still hasn't shown up, and it was a few minutes before closing time. He sat behind the counter, staring at the dozen pinks that lay untouched on the counter. Maybe she wouldn't be able to make it today. But it was peculiar. She never once failed to show up right when the doors opened, yet she hasn't come in all day. Saeran knew that she had her own circumstances, but he couldn't help but find it a bit strange, especially since she had made it every single day, even when the roads were iced and the ground was buried with snow.

Two minutes before closing. He sighed, taking brass keys out of his pocket and walking towards the door to lock it. He didn't know why, but Saeran couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that she couldn't show up today. Something must have happened, right? Maybe she was just tired? But that couldn't be right. Many times when she came in, dark eye bags were prevalent and her smile was lopsided while she would look like she was about to crash any minute. He couldn't help but worry for her, but why? It wasn't as if they ever spoke with one another more than a few sentences. It was just a quick ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye,’ nothing special. Yet, here he was, hoping that she was alright. It puzzled him. Why was he worrying? Thinking about her smile, his cheeks suddenly flushed and he felt heat flow through his body within seconds. His heartbeat started to gain speed.

Damn, he thought, what's wrong with me today? Shaking his head, Saeran plopped the key within the lock and turned it, hearing a satisfying click.

She was too late, unfortunately. By the time the mysterious girl showed up, Saeran was slumped over at the counter, sleeping on the paperwork he had to turn in soon. Sunlight was still present in little amounts, but most streetlights were being turned on right about now. She lightly tapped on the glass window with her knuckles, hoping that he would notice. He still lay slumped over his desk, however, sleeping ever so softly. She smiled at his form. He was so cute when he was asleep. Saeran just looked so relaxed and at peace when he was fast asleep as if every problem he was dealing with just suddenly vanished. She got on her yellow bike she was gifted for her tenth birthday and started riding. She was unfortunately too late today and didn't have a chance to pick up her flowers.

The next day was quite gloomy, a contrast to the previous bright sunshine-filled Friday. He woke up with arms and paperwork drenched in his drool, earning a look of disgust from him. How long was he asleep? Saeran checked the watch on his wrist, alarmed that it was nine in the morning, an hour past opening time. He sighed, thinking of how it would be better to just not open for the day. It was a Saturday after all, and he could probably afford to miss a day. A thunderous clap was then heard in the background, startling the man who was drinking a glass of water that sat on his desk from yesterday. He did a small jump, spilling water on his beige sweater in the process and mentally cursing himself. Soon enough, he got startled again when there was a vicious knock on the glass doors, jumping again and spilling more water. Saeran turned towards the window, a malicious glare in his eyes which only deepened once he saw his older brother standing outside.

“Hey bro, can you let me in?” Saeyoung tried to motion through the window, pointing at the doorknob and making strange movements as if he was playing charades. Too bad he sucked at it. Saeran had no idea what his brother was doing outside his shop at nine in the morning in the midst of a severe thunderstorm. He hadn’t even made plans to stop by, he just showed up out of thin air, which irritated Saeran a little.

“Why are you here?” Saeran asked in a stern voice, allowing a soaked Saeyoung to enter his shop, his wet t-shirt leaving water droplets everywhere on the floor. “And you could’ve at least had the decency to call and say ‘hey I’m stopping by for a visit.’” His arms folded, he waited for an explanation, as if an angry mother scolding her child.

“First off, don’t I at least get some kind of proper greeting?” Saeyoung pouted. “Secondly, I thought it would be nice to stop by for a visit. My shop is right around the corner anyway so it wasn’t as if it was troublesome for me.” The older red-head then went to a lily that was in the corner of the shop, picking one up and playing with its white petals. “Thirdly, it’s not as if you hate these visits.” He’s got a point there. Saeran, in fact, loved it when his brother came to visit. The younger sibling didn’t really have anyone else to converse with, spending his days feeling rather lonely, although it hurt a bit to admit. He did have a bit of an ego.

“Anyway, make yourself comfortable.” Saeyoung smiled and tackled his brother in a hug, leaving a baffled Saeran standing in place. It was very sudden, and Saeran was a bit taken aback, but he hugged back.

“Dammit, you have no idea how much I missed you. You don’t come to visit the computer shop as much anymore. We don’t really hang out, and just...I really missed talking to you.” His embrace grew tighter. “You just seem so distant most of the time, and I sometimes wonder whether you’re annoyed with me or something.” Usually, Saeyoung would be a goof, cracking jokes left and right. This new side of him left Saeran baffled, but he felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t been talking to his brother as much anymore. Truth be told, he was just so busy with paperwork for his shop that he kinda forgot about Saeyoung.

“You don’t have to be so emotional this early in the morning y’know.” Saeyoung cracked a goofy smile at Saeran’s response, releasing his grip to go and make coffee. He was happy that he could spend time with his brother again.

The two brothers spent their morning catching up on things, asking how each other’s shops were coming along and sharing some weird stories. “I once had this customer come in with a camera, and she had a horrified expression on her face,” Saeyoung began. “Seriously, her face was so pale she could be classified as a vampire.” Saeran chuckled and took a bite out of his ice cream. “When I asked what was wrong with the camera, she broke and confessed that she wanted to make a home video for a video production class she was taking and something went wrong.” Saeyoung stopped for dramatic effect, expecting his brother to be on the edge of his seat and ask what happened next. Saeran realized this and decided to play along.

“Then what happened?” Saeyoung was enthusiastic, cracking into a wide smile before continuing.

�� “So she left it with me, and the camera was totally fried. I thought that I wouldn’t be able to repair it, but as I am the greatest technology person thingy you know-”

“An electronic technician?”

"Sure, whatever, but anyway I managed to find the issue and fix it. So I was looking through the film, or what was left of it, in order to identify what happened. And then, I come across a video that shows when she was washing dishes and how she got the camera close to the water. I thought, ‘Oh God. She dropped the camera in the water.’” He stopped once more for dramatic effect, earning an eye roll from his brother. “When she comes in a few weeks later, I ask her what happened to make sure I was right. Get this, she said that she put the camera in the microwave along with the food in order to get a good angle.” Saeran suddenly burst into fits of laughter.

“What kind of idiot-”

“That’s what I thought, and I was trying to remain calm and composed while she was explaining why she thought it was a good idea to microwave a camera.” Saeyoung was then cut short due to rapid knocking at the door. The two of them turned towards the door to find her, Saeran’s regular, standing outside in the pouring rain. The younger sibling immediately tensed up.

Crap, I forgot about her. Noticing his tense form, Saeyoung raised a brow and took a quick glance at the woman once more.

“Ohhh, I see.” The mischievous red-head smirked, eyeing his brother who had an intense blush on his face. “So, who is this girl you like?” The audacity of him. “How’s she like? Does she know? Are you two in a relationship? I can’t believe that my precious little brother has someone.” He took off his glasses, making a small gesture with his finger as if wiping away a tear. Saeran’s blush only grew in intensity.

He wasn’t entirely sure about whether or not he did have a crush on her though. Whenever she smiled, his heart fluttered a bit. Sometimes he would find himself gazing at her cherry-red lips, silently wishing that he could kiss them. Her eyes were another thing he was fond of. Her eye color complemented her locks, and she shone with a special kind of radiance, one that stood out from others. Saeran often found himself waiting for her to arrive, even if he would see her for a few minutes at most. Whenever he could see the hurt in her eyes, he so desperately wanted to ask what was wrong but decided that it would be rude to impede on her personal life, yet she still smiled the same lopsided smile. He adored that confidence and strength. He didn’t have the courage to fight through the pain with a smile on his face. Oh God, he did like her. Yet, he had just come to the realization now, when his brother brought it up.

“N-No,” Saeran stuttered, making his way to the desk to pick up the dozen pinks he had set aside. They were freshly picked from the small greenhouse he had in the back. “It’s just that she’s a regular.” He went up to the glass door, flowers in hand, and motioned for the woman to come in. “Uh, you’ll catch a cold if you stay outside without a jacket in the rain,” he whispered, looking to the side as if embarrassed and a bit shy. Her hair was drenched and the hoodie she wore stuck to her body a bit.

“It’s ok,” she replied. “I’m just here to pick up the flowers.” Her voice was soft, and Saeran was entranced by it. She spoke with such eloquence although she had barely said a word. Her soft voice was cute in a way, and the way she smiled at the end made Saeran’s heart beat faster. Had he really fallen head-over-heels for this young woman he didn’t know anything about? What was this, some sort of a Romeo and Juliet love story?

“No, I insist. I don’t want you catching a cold.” He moved a bit to the side, gesturing for her to come in. She gave in to his charming smile and went in, a sort of milk-white card in hand that was now drenched in water. “Here, I’ll make some coffee for you to warm you up. Or would you prefer hot chocolate? I-I also have juice if you want.” He stumbled with his words, trying to figure out how he should treat such a beautiful and delicate woman. Saeran had never really had a crush on someone before, so all this was a new experience for him.

He caught Saeyoung off the corner of his eye suppressing a laugh. Was Saeran really trying that hard that it was noticeable? Apparently so as she had giggled. Now he had just made a total fool out of himself. He was embarrassed, flushed red from the tip of his ears to the bridge of his nose and mentally cursing himself for his desperate nature. He didn’t know what had come over him. Did Saeran really want to impress her, maybe confess although that would be a bit awkward? They were practically total strangers, yet here he was falling in love with her.

“A coffee would be fine.” She squeezed her hand, showing signs of shyness which he found adorable. She seemed so pure and innocent, Saeran wanted to embrace her by a fireplace on a cold day like this. Great, he was now having delusional fantasies. “Also, were you closed today, because no one else seems to be in the shop?”

“Ah. Yeah, I had woken up late so I was closing the shop, but you’re fine. Anything for a regular.” Saeyoung, meanwhile, had disappeared to who knows where. Knowing how much of a “great” matchmaker he was, setting Saeran up on blind dates from time-to-time, the older red-head probably left to the back to give the two some room. Who knows, they might just hit it off and this interaction was the start of a loving relationship. “Please, have a seat at the counter.” She made her drenched form over to the counter, taking a seat behind it, feeling a bit awkward as she was always on the other side as a customer. Saeran made his way over with a warm cup of black coffee in hand, setting it down in front of her as well as small square packets of sugar and a small cup of creamer in case she wanted to make it sweeter.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, playing with her fingers while Saeran mumbled a quiet “you’re welcome” and stared off to the side. Both of them were socially awkward at this moment, not knowing what to talk about. Finally, she broke the silence. “Your shop is quite nice. It’s very serene and the relaxing atmosphere makes me feel comfortable here. I don’t know, it might be because of my love for flowers. They just have such a calming presence, and I particularly enjoy being surrounded by them whenever I feel stressed.”

“Ah, really? I also have a love for flowers. I guess you could tell since I own this flower shop, but it’s nice to find someone else who shares this interest.” Saeran bit his fingernail which was already worn down due to the numerous times he has bitten them. He had quite a bad habit of it. He was a bit anxious over this sudden confrontation, but he was a bit happy with it as he would finally get to know this regular a bit more. “By the way, sorry for asking, and you don’t have to answer, but why didn’t you visit yesterday? Well, it’s kinda embarrassing to admit, but I was worried that something happened to you since you visit when the shop opens every day.” Was he that stupid to say such a thing? Once the words left Saeran’s mouth, regret immediately washed over him. What a complete and utter idiot he was, yet a part of him was grateful for asking about her wellbeing. It showed that he did care for her, albeit she was a clutz at times and other flaws were apparent, but that’s what made her unique and quite special.

“I was just busy with some things during the day. I’d rather not go too much into detail.” She gave a distraught look, gazing into her coffee while lost in thought about something. Well, that was a bad question to ask. Her eyes were no longer shining with a sort of brilliance yet was overcome with a feeling of sadness and a tinge of resentment. It was the same thing he felt when he was younger, having been separated from his older brother. The past was the past, however, and Saeran would rather try to forget about those distant memories.

“I’m sorry for asking.” She just smiled and shook her head, signaling that it was fine. How could she still smile through the pain? It ached him on the inside, wanting to so desperately ask how she could possibly smile when something was bothering her. How was she so strong and courageous as to mask her emotions behind a smile? He decided against it. He didn’t know her that well, and Saeran would feel that he was impeding on a sensitive matter.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go now.” She got up from her seat, a small sneeze erupting which Saeran found a bit cute and funny as it sounded high-pitched like a baby mouse. Without much thought, he grabbed his thick black coat from underneath the counter and draped it over her shivering shoulders. A small blush erupted onto her cheeks, taking the coat off and handing it back to Saeran. “Sorry, but I can’t take this. You need it, and besides, I’m already wearing an oversized sweater so I’ll be fine, probably.” The man just draped it over her shoulders again.

“You’ll get a cold, and you’re going out while I’m here in the shop. You need this more than me, and you can always give it back when you come visit another time.” Thinking of how it would be no use to argue back, she hesitantly accepted the offer and made her way through the doors, carrying the bouquet of pinks in hand. She muttered a small “bye” and quickly walked out, a large blush on her face that she tried to cover by snuggling into the warmth of the oversized coat.

Saeran stood in front of the glass door for a while, silently cursing himself for his awkwardness. And he forgot to ask what her name was. Great, just great. “So, who was that?” The enthusiastic voice of his brother popped up from the back, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. Saeran glared at him, proceeding to ignore him and go lay his head on the counter while contemplating his decisions.

A few weeks passed by and everything was seemingly normal. Saeran thought about his small crush and whether or not he should confess, although that would be creepy since they barely knew each other. She would come in every day like normal, pick up her pinks, then quietly leave. He had gotten his coat back, and every time he put it on he could feel a sliver of her warmth attached to the insides of the coat. Or maybe it was the thought that she had worn the coat, but Saeran didn’t really mind. He was more confused about why he liked her. Sure she was pretty and had a sweet voice, but what about her specifically. Saeran hadn’t really thought of it until his brother had brought it up.

“Well,” Saeran started, sitting in a small booth while meeting up with his brother again. “She has pretty eyes I guess.” Saeyoung nodded, motioning for him to continue on. “Well, her voice is soft and cute. Um, sometimes I kinda just want to put a string of hair behind her ear and tell her how pretty she is.” His brother gave him a bewildered look, possibly creeped out from his list. “Ugh, I just don’t know.” Saeran slammed his head against the table, sulking a bit as he tried to list off why he was attracted to the mysterious customer. “It’s just...I don’t know why but everytime I see her, my heart speeds up and there’s a small blush you could see on my face. Whenever she comes in through the door, I have to suppress this big grin but I don’t know why. It’s as if my body just told me ‘yeah, she’s the one.’”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, but it sounds like you do like her although you haven’t really specified why.” Saeyoung got up and stretched a bit. “Anywho, I got to get back to my shop-and speak of the devil she’s here.” Saeran’s ears turned a bit red at this mention, lifting his head off the table to scan the cafe for any signs of her. Sure enough, she was there, three seats in front of the brothers writing something in a notepad.

Before Saeran could even utter a word, Saeyoung left the shop, winking at him and giving a thumbs up. Well then. Although Saeran had little confidence in his social skills, it was now or never. He was going to go up to this cute girl and finally converse, maybe ask her out or get her number if things went well.

“Hey,” he greeted, which earned a mental facepalm. God, why was he just so awkward. I mean, yeah, he never was one to chat with others, and he did have a rather rough past that he was able to overcome after loads of therapy, but why couldn’t he talk for God’s sake?!

She looked up from her notepad, smiling that damned lopsided grin that never failed to make Saeran’s heart skip a beat. Yet again, however, there seemed to be a tinge of sadness in her smile. “Oh, hey! I never did catch your name although we see each other every day.”

“Oh, ahh, I’m Saeran.” He took a seat at the booth and scratched the back of his head, avoiding eye contact.

“(MC). By the way, do you by any chance sell tiger lilies? I’ve never seen them at your shop before.” She started to bite the eraser at the tip of her pencil, chewing it as if in thought or waiting for Saeran to answer.

“Yeah, I do, except I keep them in the back. I don’t have too many people ordering them, so I usually only reserve them for special orders. Do you need any?” Yes, he didn’t grow that many tiger lilies, but if (MC) wanted some then he sure as hell will give them to her, free of charge.

“No, it’s just that my customer wants about a dozen of them.” She started tapping the pencil against the tabletop, quite irritated at the thought of the aforementioned customer. (MC)’s face then lit up, as if she forgot to mention something. “I deliver flowers by the way. It’s just a part-time job I picked up to help pay for my university tuition. I know it’s not much, but it’s been helping somewhat. Every penny counts, you know?”

Saeran nodded. He never did attend university, instead opting to take a few classes on business and gardening before opening up his own shop. The costs were massive even with those few classes. In short, college is hella expensive. Who could afford all those costs?

The two continued to chat for a bit, making small talk and getting to know a bit about each other. Saeran was truly grateful for this opportunity. After about an hour, he decided to bring up a question that he was always meaning to ask.

“So, forgive me for intruding on your personal life, but why exactly have you come to my shop almost every day at the exact same time and ordering the same exact thing?” Gosh, he was so softspoken and awkward. But this was needed.

“Oh, this is kinda awkward,” she rubbed the back of her neck, Saeran immediately regretting ever speaking. “Um, please don’t think that this is weird, but it’s because I always wanted to see you before I began my day. I’m just too socially inadequate to go up and start a conversation, however, so I just settled with buying pinks that I don’t need. I mean, sometimes my customers do want them, but it’s mainly because I really love seeing you. When I first walked into your shop, I took one glance at you and thought, ‘damn, that’s a fine-looking snack right there.’” She chuckled after her ramble, face visibly red.

Saeran was over there dying on the other hand. She...she thought that he was cute? Um, excuse me? His heart beat furiously, threatening to jump out of his body at any minute. His soul has transcended, beginning to leave for the afterlife. His feelings were reciprocated. Is this what heaven looks like? Sitting right in front of your crush who just confessed, both of your faces red and body temperature running so high that it could be mistaken for a fever?

She continued on. “It’s just that...my life has been, well, shit over the past few months.” She started to play with her nails and bit the inside of her cheek. (MC) was getting all nervous again, as Saeran could tell from her actions. He had studied her enough to be able to read her emotions. She wasn’t a good hider as it turns out. Saeran remained silent, allowing her to go on as if silently comforting her that he was there to listen to her. He wanted to be someone with who she could be open.

Saeran had gone through therapy due to his rather rough past. He knew what it was like to be abused, to feel as if there was no opening to escape the dark pit you are stuck in. Without his therapy, Saeran feels as if his life wouldn’t have gotten better. His mom was abusive to both him and his brother; their father was of a high position and never once acknowledged that they were his sons; he was manipulated into a cult, only to be further abused; and above all, he felt as if his dear brother had abandoned him. While he was in a better place today, the past still lingers, clinging onto him as if whispering that he can never let it go.

“This one particular customer just berates me and will always find a mistake I’ve made in the order. Like, ‘oh, I ordered thirteen roses but you only bought a dozen.’ Or ‘this flower is slightly discolored. What are you thinking about giving me such a sick and unsightly flower?’ Then she just goes on to call me names, saying how I should be fired.” (MC) had tears in the corners of her eyes.

“And it’s hard to just take it in, you know?” She continued on, her tears silently falling. “It’s hard to deal with this stuff when your self-confidence has already hit rock bottom, and you think it can’t get worse, but oh boy there’s a shovel and now we’re digging even deeper!” (MC) was practically sobbing at this point.

“I’m such a worthless piece of human trash. I can’t even pass my university classes because my dumb professor is all like ‘you forgot a comma here’ or ‘this class is too hard for someone of your intellect’ as if she’s doubting my intelligence. Then parents are all up on my ass about how I don’t know what I want to major in yet. ‘Oh, you should go to med school’ or ‘how could you not know your interests yet? You’re just wasting your time and money. You should just drop out and marry a rich man.’”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” Saeran had moved over to her booth. Yes, he was awkward, and yes, he had no idea what he was doing, but he had to comfort her somehow. “You’re just going through a rough patch right now.” (MC) then hid her face in his shirt, hiding her tear-streaked face as Saeran awkwardly placed a hand on her head, stroking it gently.

“Don’t listen to those people, (MC). You’re a strong-willed woman. You’re just going through hard times, but everything will soon be better. Once you’ve hit rock bottom, the only place you can go is up. Listen, I’m so proud of you.” The crying seemed to have toned down a bit, much to Saeran’s relief. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was helping. He had always been the one to have advice given to him, not the other way around.

After a few more inspirational (and quite cringy according to Saeran) talks, (MC) seemed to be feeling better. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks had dried trails of tears, and her nose was quite runny, but (MC) wasn’t crying anymore.

“Thanks, for everything,” (MC) said, cheeks a bit red as she twirled a strand of hair with her finger. She seemed to be embarrassed that she had cried in front of a stranger she barely knew anything about. “That was the first time I had someone comfort me, so thank you. I usually just bottle up my emotions, but I guess it became too much this time.” She softly chuckled, trying to make a joke about the whole ordeal. God, she was just so embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s fine. I wish I had someone to say these things to when I was dealing with something similar. We all need to express our emotions somehow.” Saeran smiled, genuinely smiled. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had smiled this much was. God, this girl just made him feel things he wasn’t exposed to. “Anyway, we’re friends now, right? You can talk to me anytime you need anything.”

“Mm, thanks, honestly. Same here.” The two sat in awkward silence, unsure of what to say next, until finally, Saeran spoke up, deciding that it was his turn to make a move.

“Soo, you want to hang out next week?” There was an imminent blush on his face, eyes looking to the right as to avoid her facial expressions. He then heard a soft giggle.

“I’d love that.”

#mystic messenger #saeran choi #x reader #romance #mc #short story

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little-writings · 7 years

Note

Hi! I would like to request a prompt where Jumin's biological mother comes back to see him after he becomes the head of C&R. It's up to you how it gonna turn out, whether it is angsty or not. Thank u!! :")

I meant for this to be angst but I’m a fOOL ᕦ( ఠ్ఠ _ ఠ్ఠ ˇ)ᕤ

Anyhow, I’d be happy to do this thank you and have a terrific day sweetheart! Enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

Mr. Han had passed.

They may as well have said his heart had broken.

A combination of the stress and pressure they had told you.

Started by the grief by one failed relationship after another.

Only so much could be done.

Until it inevitably ended.

Jumin had stayed by his father’s side during his last few days, assuring him he’d be fine, even updating him on the C & R’s status, as if he’d be heading to work the very next day.

But as his heartbeat flattened, Jumin didn’t speak, his eyes wide with a sort of horror and fear you had never seen before.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying as the sound of his father’s heartbeat stopped, staring miserably at Mr. Han, his brow furrowed and jaw gaping.

Yet no words came out.

He was speechless.

But as you wrapped your arms around him, he crumbled.

But despite everything, he was silent.

He had stayed that way almost the entire night only speaking as you drew yourself away for a moment if only to get a blanket, seeing him tremble.

He had ribboned his fingers with your own, holding you back, his gaze turning to face you, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” He hummed. “Don’t leave, please.”

You gave in the moment he spoke, curling up beside him, feeling his arms entwining around you, holding onto you as though you might fade away with the next breeze.

You never did.

Yet as time went on, the pain almost did.

Until someone arrived.

Jumin had taken his father’s place as the head of the C & R company, always calling you throughout the day, always a hint of concern in his words before he’d hear you.

As if you’d be gone too.

Yet this day, you were planning to surprise him, a small gift held in your grip as you knocked on the office door, excitement brimming inside of you.

He opened it to meet you, an almost instinctual smile tugging at his lips as he saw you, chuckling lightly.

“Darling!” He pressed a fond kiss to your head, ushering you inside of his office. “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to bring you something!” You grinned, handing him the small gift. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this dessert and I finally-”

Knocking.

You twisted to the door confusedly. “I thought this was your break?”

“It is…” He frowned, stepped forward. “I’m sure it’s just Jahee with some forms I wasn’t given.”

But as it unveiled who was on the other side, it was clear it was no mistake.

You hadn’t seen her before, but you knew the moment your husband’s face dropped.

His mother.

Myung.

Jumin had told you about her during quiet nights, an unmistakable gloom casting over himself as he retold the tales.

“She drained my family of almost everything we had,” He would confess, a cloudy glint in his eyes. “She’d spend every drop of money we had with us on shopping sprees. She nearly left us bankrupt, threatened us to lose our home, everything we had. You…You should’ve seen my father MC every night he’d break down, and each day they’d fight for what felt like hours. She didn’t even care MC…she just let our family rot.”

As he would continue he’d struggle to come up with the words, shaking from the frustration.

“If my father hadn’t left her…we would’ve fallen apart…but my dad he still did.” He sighed. “He kept searching for the happiness he never found with her.”

And now she was back.

And poison was wound in her every move.

She gave him a honeyed smirk, dipping her head politely.

“Jumin! It’s been far too long hasn’t it?”

“…What…What’re you doing here?” He muttered, quiet and petrified.

“What do you think I’m doing here honey? I’m here to congratulate the new boss!” She laughed meekly, allowing herself in. “I haven’t seen you in so long, you didn’t even invite me to the funeral…”

“Only family was invited.” He growled. “People who cared about my father.”

“I don’t appreciate the accusation-” She noticed you, her gaze the size of saucers as she saw you, gasping. “Who is this? Is this the famous MC I keep hearing about?”

She reached out to shake your hand, only held back as Jumin stepped between of you, scowling.

“Don’t touch them.”

“Where are your manners Jumin?” She scoffed. “I simply want to introduce myself to them!”

“I-um…I’ve already heard of you before Ms. Myung. No introductions needed!” You laughed sheepishly, Jumin’s arm snaking around your waist protectively.

“Well…” She huffed, glaring at Jumin, curly locks of sooty hair twirling about her ears. “I suppose it’s good that at least one of you is decent enough to show some manners.”

“Not that you deserve it.”

“How can you speak to me that way?”

“You think you deserve any sort of respect?”

“How else do you talk to your mother?”

“You’re not supposed to nearly tear apart your family either, but you had a rather fun time doing that as well,” He shot daggers at her, glowering. “you’re in no position to be upset.”

He jeered. “Why’re you even here?”

“I came here to discuss our policy,” She huffed, snatching out a stack of papers. “Since your father is gone I wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be any changes to the current agreement.”

“Of course you did.” He shook his head. “Your business is worthless in comparison to our other partners though, C & R gains nothing from keeping you with us. And that’s with an objective point of view.”

“You can’t just tear me out of this.” She threatened. “I’ve been a part of this business for too long!”

“And for most of that time, you were tearing that apart!” He remarked. “It shouldn’t even matter to you regardless, you still hold rights to your business, simply sell yourself off to someone else, since you’re so confident in your importance.”

She weakened for a moment, attempting to grab onto his arm, her son jerking away, almost repulsed somehow.

“You can’t do this to me me…I’m your mother…I-I raised you.”

He winced, hesitating if only for a second.

“My father raised me, you are a woman who used him for his wealth,” He stared down at her, utterly towering. “I will not make the same mistake.”

“If you talk to me that, I can only imagine the poor treatment you put MC through.”

You could hardly believe your ears, nearly choking on air as you switched to her, sneering.

“Unlike you, I married my husband because I love him!” You proclaimed. “I love him more than anything! I don’t love his money, his big house, or any sort of wealth he has! I love him because he’s him!”

You thought of his delicate, tender laughter, his ridiculous puns he’d murmur to you throughout the day, his enjoyment of stories, and even the simple light in his eyes that would grow as he’d look at you, as though you hung the very stars.

Yet more than anything you thought of his pure desire to make you happy.

You even saw it then, keeping you close, trying to hide away the anger seeping from him.

But as he looked at you, he melted.

And your heart swelled with warmth.

“He has never hurt me,” You proudly declared, “and I’m not going to let you hurt him.”

She was baffled, jaw agape, trying to come up with something, anything to say.

But Jumin got to it first.

“If you’d rather had a more grand exit, I’d be more than happy to call security, otherwise, go.”

She began sentences as she balled her hands into fists, finding herself backed into a corner.

The only option was, to leave.

And she did.

She readjusted the colors of her jacket, puffing out her chest with some sort of faux pride before storming off, an odd sort of melancholic regret plastered onto her before the door shut.

And for a moment there was silence.

And it sank in.

“Thank you…” He muttered, his head turned to the door, a cloudy fog in his eyes. “I don’t think I could’ve taken much more of her honestly.”

“I don’t think I could’ve either…”

“But um…may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Did you…did you really mean what you said-before-I mean.”

You raised your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you, your fingertips lacing within his messy strands.

“Of course I did,” You spoke quietly, earnestly. “I meant every word Jumin.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, smiling.

“I love you for you, nothing could ever change that,” You continued, your heart swelling. “Nothing will ever change that.”

He laughed beneath his breath, almost in disbelief, pulling you close to him.

“Thank you, darling,, I…I just…”

“What?”

“I can’t even put into words how much I love you.”

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