────────── oh man, my first crush, what devastation .ᐟ.ᐟ
⤿ pairings. yoji uruha, togo shiba, kuguri (kagurabachi), shishiba (sakadays), higuruma hiromi, nanami kento (jjk), könig (cod), kafka hibino (kaijuu no. 8), levi ackerman (aot), shota aizawa (mha), ego jinpachi, noel noa (bllk), woo jinchul (solo leveling), kim dokja (orv), shinichiro sano (tokrev) x gn reader
⤿ contents. sub character, older man, little experience, like close to zero, i'd like to say this started off as a drabble. this contains mature content, read at your own discretion.
⤿ thoughts. and one day, you're nineteen, and you find older men attractive.
In love with the idea of an older man with very little experience. A man who has been too preoccupied with things that it isn't a priority. Never been touched, never been kissed. Hasn't experienced anything remotely romantic, apart from a kiss on the cheek when he was like six.
He's a 30+ year old virgin!
He's a pervert.
He's sick, pathetic, a degenerate, a thirsty blood hound who can't help but have a crush on you — his new neighbor.
Ugh, it's sickening. He likes someone so young, with so much potential ahead, and much less life experience.
He tells himself to turn away.
He is in denial of you. Not so much being 'in denial', more so — refusing to push his feelings any further.
He's accepted his feelings.
Sure, yes, he does think you're quite charming. But he refuses to give in to you. To the thought of you.
No, he will never even consider you.
His spare glances and mutters should be enough to put you off, yet you still try to befriend him.
But then he dreams of you. In his head, he lays so softly against your chest, listening to the sound of you breathing, and he tries to mimic it. It's something so intimate, something so rare to him. New.
Why do his pants feel tight?
The lines near his eyes crinkle as he shuts them tightly, and his lip curls into a snarl. He feels ashamed, disgusted with himself. He's never even once thought to touch himself to someone. What does he do? What should he do? What's the right thing?
Tell him what to do with the feelings he caught.
But it only drives you to push it deeper, it seems. The way he stumbles and averts his lingering gaze when you catch him staring. He gets tongue tied trying to respond back.
His reactions are just so... cute. At least that's what you told him that night you invited him over for some dinner. You said you felt lonely, that you could bring countless people over, but they don't exactly make you feel fulfilled.
He knows this is true. There's a vent connecting your rooms. Sometimes, just sometimes, he can overhear what goes on.
And he hears you sigh, disappointed. His heart throbs at the sound, and he can't help but think that he'd be a much better replacement.
So, the rough pads of his fingers trail down his boxers as he tries to remember what you told the last guy — "Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart." — he thinks the guy was trying to take over your roll. He heard the guys' pleas of mercy to give him what he wanted.
Most of them did that.
"I won't give it to you until you make me feel something."
He wouldn't be like that. He would take everything you give him, even when it comes to be too much and his hips are bucking underneath you, until he's trying to push you away by the shoulders and his eyes threaten to shut, touch him while he's begging for you to give him a minute, while he passes out and you're still buried to the hilt, he'll let himself go and not think of a single thing but you.
Even when he's drenched in his own fluids — be it white and sticky, be it clear and wet that squirts out of him after he came way too many times, be it a mixture of both his sweat and drool.
He'll push through his own orgasm to make you satisfied.
He wants to be devoured by you.
He wondered how your hand would feel around his cock. Warm, you probably know what you're doing too. Would you kiss him afterward? He would, even with his semen coating your tongue. He'd clean it off for you just to get a taste of your spit mixing with his.
He isn't embarrassed by the wanton moan that escapes him as he squirms into the soaked sheets. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, it's ready to burst, he's ready to burst but he keeps some clarity to bite his tongue and force it down when he hears your car pulling up.
And he pulls away, hips thrusting into the warm air of his bedroom as his sticky hand comes up to muffle a gasp.
He'll keep on denying himself.
He wants to forget you but he can't. He'll miss you when he doesn't have you near.
He'll cry from thinking that he was yours. He never was, never will be. He knows this. You'll quickly move on, find someone your age, much more capable in satisfying you.
synopsis: turns out, commanding an army of shadows is way easier than handling a workplace crush.
sung jinwoo x female!reader (oneshot)
wc: 3.9k
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the world was ending.
or at least it felt that way to the general public, but sung jinwoo was mostly just annoyed that he couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent meal that didn’t come out of a plastic foil wrapper.
clearing an s-rank dungeon wasn’t supposed to be a stroll through a scenic park, obviously. the ground was still damp with dark and viscous blood that definitely didn't belong to anything human, and the air carried that suffocating scent of rotting mana that made normal hunters vomit on their boots.
jinwoo didn't vomit as he was far past the point of having a normal human reaction to horrific imagery, but he did let out an exhausted groan that vibrated deep in his chest.
around him, the shadows of his resurrected soldiers flickered against the jagged cavern walls, waiting for their master's command to retreat back into his shadow.
igris stood perfectly upright, the picture perfect of chivalrous loyalty.
while beru was doing something that suspiciously looked like he's vibrating with murderous enthusiasm in the corner.
"get back," jinwoo muttered, his voice raspy from hours of shouting commands and breathing in dust.
with a silent and almost fluid like sink, the massive army vanished into his shadow, leaving him completely alone in the center of the cleared gate.
the dungeon boss—which was a grotesque, multi-limbed monstrosity that had threatened to flatten three blocks of seoul was now reduced to a neat pile of magical stones and a corpse.
the system's blue holographic screens floated in front of his face, chiming in cheerfully.
[you have leveled up!]
[you have gained the title...]
"shut up," he muttered, waving a hand to dismiss the notifications.
power ups were great, sure.
becoming a literal god of death before he reached his thirties was a decent career trajectory, but the system forgot to mention that the cost for all this ridiculous power was his sanity.
his schedule had been so utterly hectic over the last three days that he hadn't even had the chance to eat a proper breakfast or use the bathroom in peace before the hunters association dragged him to the gate.
he was running on pure mana and spite at this point. his body was feeling the absolute limits of exhaustion.
sure, he can just drink a potion to regain strength. but nothing beats the good ole eight hours of sleep. and proper food of course.
stepping out of the gate’s fading vortex, he didn't even bother waiting for woo jin-chul or the inevitable crowd of frantic reporters who were currently scrambling to set up their cameras down the street.
he just pulled his black hoodie lower over his face and shoved his hands deep into his pockets before letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go.
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tonight, the streets around the dungeon perimeter were eerily quiet, slicked with a thin layer of freezing rain.
his head hung low as he sighed, feeling the weight of whatever absurd global responsibility and burden the world had decided to shove onto his shoulders getting heavier and heavier with each step.
he was just a guy.
a very strong guy who could command an army of the dead, yes, but still just a guy who wanted a sandwich. or a piece of bread. or literally anything that didn't taste like ash or iron or blood.
after walking for what felt like miles through the gloomy streets, his boots suddenly clicked to a halt on the pavement.
he froze in his tracks.
right ahead, nestled between a dreary looking convenience store and a dark and shuttered real estate office, was a very obnoxiously bright light illuminating the entire sidewalk.
it was a warm but almost aggressive golden glow that looked out of place in this neighborhood.
jinwoo blinked, his eyes adapting to the sudden brightness. the exterior of the place let out this strangely welcoming, cozy aura which is practically begging cold and miserable pedestrians to look inside.
his eyes flickered upward to the neatly painted wooden sign that read, ppang bakery.
almost instantly, his stomach let out a grumble that echoed against the empty buildings.
he moved closer, his nose catched the buttery and faint scent of yeast and sugar that was somehow escaping through the vents. through the large glass window, he could see delightful rows of wooden trays stacked high with pastries.
glossy cream buns, braided breads, twisted donuts dusted with sugar, and soft loaves that looked like clouds.
jinwoo looked closely at the counter. there was nobody serving as of the moment. the little space behind the cash register was totally empty.
where was the staff?
he stared for another three seconds. oh well, he thought, if it comes down to it, he'd just take a few pastries himself and leave a generous pile of high denomination cash on the counter.
the hunters association paid him more money than he knew what to do with anyway, so he could probably buy the whole building if someone challenged him on it. (he would)
he marched forward, his heavy leather boots making a dull thud against the welcome mat, and pushed the door open. the little brass bell above the frame gave a chime.
as soon as his left foot stepped inside the heated room, something—no, someone—suddenly popped out from the other side of the counter, rising from the floor like an energetic jack-in-the-box.
sung jinwoo deadpanned.
"welcome to ppang bakery!"
as soon as jinwoo looked up to properly look at the cashier's face, his entire body locked up. his shadows flared for a microsecond beneath his boots before he forced them down with every willpower he has remaining.
what the hell were you doing here?
his brain completely short-circuited. his vocal cords felt instantly entangled with one another, tighter than the webs of an arachnid dungeon boss.
of course he knew her.
he knew that specific tilt of the head, the way her hair caught the light of the shop, and that incredibly bright but slightly tired expression.
but he couldn't exactly say the same for her.
[reader] was currently holding a plastic tray in one hand and a pair of metal tongs in the other, blinking at the massive and intimidating and brooding man who had just entered her shop.
she probably didn't recognize him at all, and honestly, why would she?
the last time she’d seen him, he was half her size, covered in cheap convenience store bought bandages and limping so badly he could barely stand straight.
but now he was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, radiating an aura that made wild animals run for their lives and dressed in expensive black designer gear.
but the shock of seeing her didn't stop his heart from beating rapidly against his ribs like a drum.
jinwoo opened his mouth, his lips parting slightly, but he literally couldn't find the ability to form a single coherent word.
the world's strongest hunter was currently being held hostage by a girl with a pastry tray.
"is there anything you'd like to order?" [reader] asked, her smile remaining unhurried, completely oblivious to the cataclysm happening internally inside his chest.
realizing he was staring like a total creep, jinwoo immediately switched his plans of just grabbing random items.
his hand shook slightly (a detail that would have horrified the other s-rank hunters who watched him slice through monsters without a single tremor) as he lifted his left arm and pointed blindly toward a random bread sitting in the far, dusty corner of the display case.
it was an old-school and slightly deflated soboro-ppang. [1]
a crumble bun that looked like it had been sitting there all day because nobody under the age of sixty actually bought them anymore.
he held up a single, black-gloved finger.
as if on cue, [reader] understood it instantly. "alright. one crumble bun to go."
she reached down with her tongs, deftly picking up the lonely pastry and sliding it into a small white paper bag.
jinwoo took the bag and paid with a bill that was far too large for a single piece of cheap bread before bolting out into the cold night air without waiting for his change.
as his boots hit the wet pavement, his chest heaved.
he looked down at the paper bag in his hands, the warmth of the fresh pastry seeping through the thin paper against his gloves.
the streetlights flickered above him.
the tip of his ears visibly turned red.
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back then, he was the "world's weakest hunter." every single raid was a gamble with his survival, and more often than not, he came back with nothing but a handful of low-grade magic stones that barely covered his mother's hospital bills and a body covered in agonizing bruises.
the other hunters treated him like a joke. a meat shield, a burden, a useless extra who only existed to make their ranks look better.
he remembered sitting on a rusty park bench near the old association building, his hands shaking from cold and blood loss, staring at his torn sneakers.
he’d been so hungry that his stomach felt like it was eating itself, but he hadn't had a single won to his name after buying potions.
but then, a shadow had fallen over him.
he flinched, expecting another hunter coming to mock him or tell him to clear out of the way.
but instead, a gentle and warm hand had extended into his blurry line of sight. held between two fingers was a neatly wrapped piece of bread.
"you alright, kid?" a voice had called out.
it was [reader]. (don't ask why he knew your name)
she’d been wearing a mismatched winter coat, her cheeks flushed pink from the biting wind, looking at him not with the disgust or pity he was so used to, but with kindness he didn't know if he deserves.
she didn't know he was a hunter, she just saw a miserable teenager who looked like he was about to fall apart.
she’d shoved the bread into his hands, gave him a cheerful pat on the shoulder and told him to eat before he froze to death.
to her, it was probably just a random act of charity on a random tuesday.
but to jinwoo, it was the only thing that had kept him from quitting entirely.
standing under the dim streetlight, the shadow monarch let out a breathy laugh that turned into a cloud of vapor in the cold air.
...i haven't forgotten you, he thought, his fingers tightening slightly around the paper bag. i thought i moved on from you. but truth to be told, i spent every waking moment thinking about you. i thought i'll eventually forget about you as time ticks, but the pain in my chest only grew stronger.
he honestly believed that as time ticked forward and his power grew to these absurd, god-like levels, those old human attachments would just fade away into the background.
he thought he’d eventually forget the small face of a girl from his human days as the system rewrote his body.
but the strange and aching pain in his chest only grew stronger every time he remembered that park bench.
he looked back at the glowing yellow sign of the bakery in the distance.
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the next afternoon, the sung family’s new mansion, which was a sprawling, ridiculously expensive piece of modern architecture situated in one of the most exclusive districts in seoul, was relatively quiet. (save for the sound of sung jinah's sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floors)
jinwoo stood in front of the massive, floor to length mirror in the main hallway.
he had been standing there for fifteen minutes.
he adjusted the collar of his black jacket. then he unadjusted it. then he ran a hand through his dark hair, checking if the strands fell exactly the way he wanted them to.
he smoothed down the front of a plain grey shirt that he’d spent ten minutes choosing from his closet. (an unprecedented event, considering his entire wardrobe consisted of identical black hoodies and dark cargo pants)
sung jinah walked into the hallway carrying a glass of juice, her eyes instantly landing on her brother’s bizarre behavior.
she stopped dead in her tracks, her brow furrowing as she watched the literal savior of humanity check his side profile in the glass.
"are you going on a date or something?" jinah asked, her voice dripping with immediate skepticism.
jinwoo didn't even turn around. his eyes remained fixed on his reflection as he tilted his chin slightly to the left.
then, for a split second, his usually cold and terrifyingly sharp expression softened.
his lips curved into an uncharacteristically gentle smile.
"better," jinwoo responded.
jinah physically recoiled, her face twisting into an expression of profound horror. she actually held her juice glass further away from him.
"blegh! what is with you?" she shrieked, looking baffled. "what is that face? why are you smiling like that? it looks creepy on you, stop it!"
jinwoo’s expression instantly snapped back to his default deadpan, his eyes cutting to his sister with his usual blunt. "it's my handsome face."
"it is not a handsome face! you look like you’ve been possessed by a low level romantic comedy monster," jinah countered, crossing her arms and stepping closer to inspect him. "seriously, are you really meeting a woman? is that why you're wearing a shirt that doesn't have a zipper from the hunters association?"
"there's some food i left on the fridge. i'm off," jinwoo said, completely ignoring her questions.
before jinah could throw her slippers at him or demand more details, the shadows around his boots lengthened, wrapping around his ankles like liquid ink. with a swift movement, he stepped back into the darkness as he vanished from the hallway.
"hey! get back here and answer me!" jinah yelled at the empty space before stamping her foot.
she muttered, "gross."
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meanwhile, in a completely different part of seoul, the national news network was currently experiencing a minor existential crisis over the country's strongest hunter.
the wide holographic television screen inside the hunters association headquarters was playing a viral video clip on a continuous loop.
the footage, captured by a grainy smartphone camera from across a street, showed hunter sung jinwoo.
the ruthless and savage hunter who had recently slaughtered an entire army of giants without breaking a sweat, was standing perfectly, politely in line at a tiny bakery.
he looked gigantic compared to the elderly women waiting in front of him, his head nearly touching the low doorframe, but he was holding his little paper bag with the exact same care one might use to handle a fragile s-rank artifact.
"and in recent hunter news," the anchorwoman on screen announced, her expression a mix of professional gravity and amusement, "national level hunter sung jinwoo has been spotted frequenting a small local establishment in the district every single night at exactly nine-fifty evening. citizens have noted that despite his cool and savage personality on the battlefield, his dedication to support local small businesses has been deeply endearing to the citizens of the public..."
inside the main office, chief woo jin-chul was currently massaging his temples so hard his knuckles were turning white.
around him, three different high ranking monitors were furiously typing away on their laptops, surrounded by stacks of satellite maps and mana detection reports.
"have we checked the lines beneath the bakery?" jin-chul asked, his voice sounding incredibly hollow. "is there any trace of a hidden dungeon gate or a high concentration mana vein under the flour storage?"
"sir, we’ve run three separate magical scans on the property," a monitor replied, sweating profusely under his glasses. "there is absolutely zero magical activity. it is just an ordinary bakery that specializes in traditional sweet buns and milk bread. the owner is a sixty year old grandmother who has no awakening history whatsoever."
jin-chul let out aragged sigh, his fingers sliding down to pinch the bridge of his nose. "then why... why does hunter sung jinwoo go there every single night after clearing high-rank gates? does he suspect an infiltration? is he using it as a tactical base of operations that we don't understand?"
"we don't know, chief! but the public loves it! sales for crumble buns have gone up by four hundred percent citywide because people think it's part of an s-rank training diet!"
"..."
jin-chul stared at the screen, where the video showed jinwoo carefully walking out of the shop with his small paper bag.
hunter sung jinwoo... just what kind of grand strategy are you planning in that bakery?
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back at ppang bakery, the grand strategy was currently involving two part-time college students peering through the small circular glass window of the kitchen door while whispering furiously.
"i'm telling you, it's him!" the first coworker, danielle, whispered, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden doorframe. "look at the shoulders! look at the way the light reflects off his jacket! that's the sung! jin! woo! standing by the red bean display, in the flesh!"
[reader] let out a soft laugh, her hands busy wiping down the marble counter with a damp cloth. "guys, stop staring through the glass, you're going to smudge it. and besides, he’s just a customer. you ought to be more professional."
"a customer who could flatten the city with his pinky finger!" the other coworker, haerin, joined in, her eyes wide as she elbowed [reader] in the ribs.
"he’s been coming in here every single night for the past two weeks at exactly the same time. he doesn't even look at the menu boards, he doesn't check the daily specials, nothing! he just stands there like a giant statue and steals looks at you while you're packing his order." haerin whispers the last sentence rather teasingly.
[reader] felt a sudden warmth creep up her neck, but she quickly shook her head, tossing the cloth into the sink. "he does not look at me. he's an s-rank hunter, why would he care about a temporary worker?"
"you dummy." minji hissed, pulling [reader] toward the door to make her look. "if you ask me, i think he might have a crush on you. he only buys that stupid, dry crumble bun that nobody else touches just so he has an excuse to stand at your register for thirty seconds."
"that's ridiculous," [reader] muttered, though her chest gave a fluttery twitch.
before she could argue further, the brass bell above the main door gave its familiar chime.
"good luck!" her coworkers whisper yelled. instantly scrambling back into the kitchen like frightened mice, leaving [reader] alone behind the counter.
she straightened her apron and looked up.
sure enough, sung jinwoo stepped inside.
the heated air of the shop blew his dark bangs back slightly, revealing those very sharp and features striking eyes that usually looked like they were staring into the abyss. tonight, though, he looked slightly less intimidating. his hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he approached the register with a slow stride.
"welcome to ppang bakery," [reader] said, her voice naturally dropping into a tone she used for everyone.
jinwoo stopped on the designated floor mat.
he didn't say anything at first, his gaze fixing onto her face for a second before his eyes darted down to the corner of the display counter where the last soboro-ppang of the day was resting.
he held up a single finger.
"one crumble bun to go," [reader] repeated with a smile, already reaching for the metal tongs. "you know, if you like these so much, i could ask the baker to make a fresh batch earlier in the day so they aren't so crunchy by the time you get here."
jinwoo’s throat clicked as he swallowed. "no," he muttered, his voice surprisingly deep in the small space. "this one is fine."
[reader] hummed softly, sliding the pastry into the white paper bag.
she turned back around, holding the top of the bag with her fingers and extended it across the wooden counter. "that'll be two thousand won, please."
jinwoo reached out his left hand to take the bag.
he wasn't wearing his gloves tonight, leaving his long and pale fingers bare. as he grasped the paper, his skin accidentally brushed against the back of her hand—just a brief, momentary contact of warm skin against his rough, battle-hardened, mana-infused knuckles.
the effect was instantaneous.
the terrifying shadow monarch—the man who didn't even blink when a demon king tried to sever his head from his shoulders—instantly flushed a light pink from his collar all the way to the tips of his ears.
his fingers jerked slightly, nearly dropping the bag before he caught it with a clumsy grip that was uncharacteristic of an s-rank hunter.
[reader] blinked, startled by the sudden heat radiating from him. "oh, are you—"
"thank you," jinwoo choked out, his voice sounding about an octave higher than usual.
without waiting for his receipt, without even checking if he had handed her the right amount of cash, the man practically spun on his heel and bolted out of the glass door so fast the brass bell didn't even have time to finish its chime.
[reader] stood behind the register, her own hand tingling where their fingers had touched, her heart suddenly racing against her ribs as she watched his tall silhouette disappear down the dark street. maybe... danielle wasn't entirely crazy after all.
outside, the cold night air immediately hit jinwoo's burning face, but he didn't use his shadows to vanish right away this time. instead, his heavy boots stopped just across the narrow street, right under the dim and flickering amber glow of an old lamppost.
he exhaled a quiet cloud of white vapor into the freezing atmosphere.
through the pristine glass window of ppang bakery, he could see her perfectly.
the golden light inside the shop framed her like a painting as she began the quiet routine of closing up, sweeping the floor and wiping down the empty wooden pastry trays with unhurried movements.
slowly, jinwoo reached into the small white paper bag.
his long fingers pulled out the old-school soboro-ppang, its bumpy streusel topping shedding a few sweet crumbs onto his dark sleeve. he brought the pastry to his lips and took a bite.
the outer crust was slightly dry from sitting out all evening, exactly as a neglected crumble bun usually was, but as he chewed, the familiar texture melted with the comforting taste of sweet peanut butter and sugar.
he kept his eyes fixed on her through the glass, watching the gentle way she smiled to herself while flipping the sign on the door to closed.
and although a crumble bun was usually sweet, it tasted even sweeter when looking at her.
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[1] in korea, having an overwhelming crush means your heart is buseojida (부서지다) literally crumbling into pieces out of nervousness.
[a/n]: another os that was rotting in my drafts (ᵕ•́ -•̀)
Here is your hand mari: 🤙--Now for my request (love your work btw)--just here me out. Solo Levelling right? You invite them to bake together late one night and they misunderstood is as code for sexy time--but that was DEF not the intention. Ideally almost no spice because I think it's hilarious that reader drags them into their mess, thank you!
M!Solo Leveling x Chubby Fem!Reader: You invite them over late at night to bake, and they misunderstand completely.
content warning/themes (MDNI - 19+ only): nsfw due to misunderstood implication, largely sfw though, humor, light!crack, baking together, late nights, miscommunication
a/n: Okay but this actually made me laugh so much, so thank you for such a fun idea and for reading the rules, I hope you enjoy!
Sung Jinwoo
You texted him at midnight asking if he wanted to have some fun in the kitchen togehter. This made Jinwoo raise an eyebrow at his phone before shadow-stepping directly into your home only to see you in pajama pants, surrounded by measuring cups and a bag of flour you were trying to wrestle open. You grinned when you saw him. "Perfect timing, I needed some extra hand!." Jinwoo blinked. His shadows rippled with what might have been secondhand confusion.
"You actually meant baking," he said flatly, causing you to squint at him. "What did you think I meant?" He opened his mouth, then laughed quietly and shook his head. "Nothing. Give me the flour." He rolled up his sleeves and took the bag from you, tearing it open with zero effort while you protested that you'd almost had it. He utilized Igris to help cream butter at 12 AM because you wanted cookies. His other shadows kept trying to help, which meant you had to keep swatting hands away from the sugar bowl. "Tell your friends to stop stealing chocolate chips," you scolded. Jinwoo shrugged, but internally decided that this was way better than what he'd originally had in mind.
Baek Yoonho
He showed up at your door with his shirt half-unbuttoned, and you'd blinked at his chest before handing him an apron with cartoon cats on it. "You're on egg duty," you said, already turning back to the counter where ingredients were spread out in chaotic clusters. Yoonho stood still, apron dangling from his fist, brain trying to make sense of the situation as best he could. You peeked over your shoulder. "You coming? The butter needs to soften and I refuse to microwave it like a heathen."
"I thought--" he started, then stopped. His ears had gone red, which was deeply annoying considering it was his own fault for reasonably assuming. "Never mind." He pulled the apron over his head, tying it around himself aggressively as he made his way into your kitchen. After breaking one too many yolks, you ended up having to guide his hands through the motion while he tried very hard not to think about how close you were. "You're a disaster," you told him cheerfully after another failed attempt. "You're the disaster here," he muttered back, but he was already cracking another egg with absurd concentration, determined to get it right this time.
Choi Jong-In
Jong-In arrived with wine and a very specific look in his eyes, only to have you shoving a printed recipe into his hands the moment he stepped inside. "You're in charge of the dry ingredients," you announced, already moving back toward the kitchen. He stood there holding a page that detailed the exact measurements for banana bread, the bottle of expensive red dangling uselessly from his other hand.
"When you said you wanted to do something fun and sweet together," he began, his tone carefully neutral. You looked up from mashing bananas. "Yeah?" He adjusted his glasses, buying time. "I interpreted that... differently." Your eyes immediately went wide and you bursted out laughing so hard you had to set down the fork. "Oh my god--Oh nooo, Jong-In." He exhaled through his nose, mouth pressed thin to keep from smiling. "Just tell me where the measuring cups are." You were still giggling as you pointed to a drawer, wiping your eyes as he measured out flour with unnecessary precision. He refused to acknowledge the situation further, but when you bumped your hip against his and called him cute, the tops of his cheeks went pink. He retaliated by getting flour on your nose and pretending it was an accident.
Yoo Jinho
Jinho had been nervous the entire drive over, palms sweating on the steering wheel, giving himself a mental pep talk about being cool and confident. You wanted to bake together. Past midnight. Alone. He knew what that meant. He'd even looked it up online to make sure, and multiple sources confirmed that late night baking was definitely code for something. So when he walked in and you immediately put a bowl in his hands and told him to whip the cream cheese until fluffy, he started reconsidering the purpose of the internet entirely.
"This is--" he started, staring at the cream cheese. "We're making...?" "Cinnamon rolls!" You beamed at him from across the kitchen. "From scratch. It's going to take forever but it's so worth it." Jinho nodded, smile frozen on his face, internally screaming. He whipped the cream cheese and he kneaded dough when you asked. At some point while he watched you handling the later steps, he realized he was actually having a really good time. "You've got cinnamon on your cheek," you told him, reaching over to brush it away. From that moment he was determined to learn how to make cinnamon rolls and never ever let you know about his original assumption, for as long as he lived.
Woo Jinchul
He got your text at 10 PM, read the words 'come over and help me with something in the kitchen', but when he arrived to find you elbow-deep in a bag of powdered sugar, he experienced what could only be described as utter fucking confusion. You waved a sugar-coated hand at him. "Finally! I needed someone tall to get the cake pans from the top shelf."
"The top shelf..." he repeated. You nodded, oblivious, gesturing toward the cabinet. "I've been climbing on the counter like a gremlin for twenty minutes. My knees were starting to hurt." Jinchul retrieved the pans in silence, processing the situation. It was clear he misread it. Significantly. "You're being weird," you observed, taking the pans from him. "Do you not want to help? I'm making my mom's pound cake, but I always mess up the glaze..." He removed his jacket, folded it over a chair and rolled his sleeves up. "Show me the recipe." You slid the notes toward him and he studied them. By the time the cake went into the oven, he forgot his original expectations and was genuinely invested in whether he could get the glaze to set properly.
Goto Ryuji
You were one of the few hunters who didn't need an interpreter, which was probably why Goto actually answered when you texted if he wanted to come over and help with something sweet. He arrived expecting dim lights and perhaps something to drink to set the mood. Instead you opened the door asking if he knew whether taiyaki batter was supposed to be lumpy while wearing an apron that definitely had clothes underneath. He stood in the doorway processing the fish-shaped mold on your counter and the disaster surrounding it.
"You invited me here... to make street food." he said. "I invited you here because you'll actually know if it tastes right," you corrected, pulling him inside by the wrist. "Everything I make turns out weird and I can never tell if it's me or the recipe." Goto found himself stationed at the stove, examining your batter with open disdain before adjusting the ratio himself. Somewhere between your third failed fish and the first one that came out golden and perfect, he stopped caring. You bit into the crispy shell and filling spilled down your chin. "Good?" he asked. You nodded, mouth too full to talk. You held out the other half out to him and he ate it from your hand without thinking.
[Solo Leveling x Homicipher MC!Reader - Crossover]
Related Story: Idea 1 (Jinah's school dungeon break incident)
Note: This is different from {Other Other World} but the concept is the same where Reader/you are the MC of Homicipher and got sent into the world of Solo Leveling. There’s no particular pairing cause there are the Homicipher guys as your Pokemon already.
The Hunters Association was founded by an S-Rank Hunter, funded and sponsored by the same person who was now dubbed the Chairman, that person was Go Gunhee. He was well-respected and knew the world of power and authority not in terms of physical strength, but also the workings of corporates and those that are placed in higher power like the government or politicians.
This establishment had a few key focuses or purposes as the Chairman would say. One, to be a pillar of support for the citizens and Hunters alike, a neutral party that would strive the benefit of the country. Two, to be a shield against the outside force that aimed to take advantage of the weak-hearted or lower-ranked Hunters. Three, to be a monitor or eyes for all things related to Hunters and Gates. And finally, four, to be the weapon that keeps those with ill intent in check, namely the Hunters who have awakened and fancied themselves a god among mortals.
However grand the goals are, they were nothing when it was only one person within the Association. One person can’t be the one to change the world―at least Chairman Go knew he didn’t have that power and capability to do so. Perhaps one day, he’d meet someone of that stature, but right now, his focus was on the foundation of the Association.
Recruitment was easy and hard. There were those that would follow him to the ends of the Earth, and then those would oppose this establishment. Talented individuals usually find themselves independent and prideful, not wanting to work under someone and listen to orders. It was the restriction that made it all the more difficult to recruit such individuals. The Association was set up to be an honourable and praiseworthy organization, so mingling with this would be like turning into a priest or a nun. To be professional and righteous.
“It’s not much but I can offer you a home.” Go Gunhee spoke softly, his hands behind his back as he stood in the rundown abandoned shack in the forest. “A place to work and a place to strive.”
“I have no interest in that.” Your figure perched on a small hilltop of stacked wooden furniture pieces, the rain droplets slipping through the cracks to drip onto your raincoat. The hood of your dirty raincoat shadowed your face, leaving only a bandaged mouth and nose to the intruder that followed you all the way here. You gripped onto your crowbar as you glared down at him. “Leave before you regret ever following me.”
Your tone was borderline threatening for anyone who heard it. However, it serves as a warning. The rain washed away the blood and gore of beasts that you and your companions hunted for you to feast on, their corpses were still littered around and the flesh was still present. The smell of the forest overpowered that of the slowly rotting flesh, but that wasn’t the point. Focus on the beings surrounding the man he couldn’t dream of ever defeating or purging.
An obsessive red man with a wide inhuman grin to the side behind you holding a red umbrella over you, his form glitching and distorting from time to time as if holding himself back from attacking―Mr. Scarletella.
An amused silver-haired man with a dirty lab coat of sorts grinning ear to ear with his head tilted while his hands were behind his back, from your perspective, tortuous tools were held in case of any threat perceived―Mr. Silver.
An on-guard doglike man with long black hair and dressed in black standing on the slop before you, his usually crawling form and childish grin gone with an aura of alert in his position―Mr. Crawling.
From the shadows of gaps that made your perch, you knew an observant and calculating man’s eye had been watching everything but never said a word or made a move―Mr. Gap.
Then, there was the one closest to the human. Your guardian and rock in the worst times, dressed in a worn-down cloak with his hood covering his entire face to the point one could only see darkness, he wielded a menacing executioner’s axe that was half of his size as if prepared to cut the human down―Mr. Hood.
If one were to ask, are there more to your crazy, overpowered, and disturbing companions? Let’s just say there was more to you than meets the eye. These weren’t all of your cards.
From just the atmosphere of the place, one could tell the ringleader wasn’t as harmless as their appearance would show. Gunhee, the leader of an honest institution, couldn’t believe himself, but if he was given another chance, he wouldn’t change anything and would make the same decision over and over. He raised his hand as an offer was presented to you. “Be my association’s officer. You wouldn’t be put into a suit and follow the standard procedures. I will offer you a playground to hunt and kill if you would be my weapon.”
The air shifted, and a grin formed on your face. It was as if it were a synced-up connection, and your companions all grinned alongside you. The crowbar in your hand was swirled around until it was thrown at the Chairman, who was unfazed by it all and stood his ground. You skipped down the hill, patting Mr. Crawling’s head on the way down to Mr. Scarletella’s envy. You stared at the bold man while you retrieved your signature killing tool, Mr. Hood had already stood protectively close to you. In a swift move, you pointed the curve tip in his face with a crazed expression. “If this is a trap… Know that your death won’t be quick and painless.”
“We are to be partners, I believe we benefit from mutual trust.”
Rumours circled in the Hunter’s community forum. After the Hunter Association’s official establishment, Hunters were promptly placed under control, guilds were formed and Hunters were organized into groups and ranks. The most unspoken attention was placed on the Hunters turned criminal or vice versa. Most, if not al,l were curious as to how the Hunter Association would handle that. Let them be sent to a prison? But their Hunter abilities could allow them to break out no question. Charge them? But as a Hunter, earning money had been the fastest among other careers. Monitor them? But with Gates running rampant and the lack of personnel, who would watch them 24/7?
A lone guild was sponsored by the Hunter Association and answered only to the Chairman. Its name was [Other], an exclusive guild that no one knew who its members were, including the guildmaster. Their activity, however, was renowned to all. In simple terms, they were the Hunter Association’s hired assassins or clean-up crew. Their typical work included acting as the strike team to clear unwanted Gates, though their infamous deeds were to pass judgment on those that defied the jurisdiction.
Simple terms?
Killing people.
The Other Guild was one of mystery. Its members and guild master are not only unknown, but recruitment was done in secret and one way. None could approach them or reveal relevant information about the guild itself and its master. Its activities leaked credibility to the point that some would brush it aside and claim that it was something the Hunter Association did to scare Hunters into being more moral and human, not to become the monsters from the Gates.
“It’s raining again…”
“I forgot my umbrella…”
“No football practice?”
“We should be moving to the indoor gym room.”
“I hate the rain, makes you all wet.”
You moved past the students chatting in the hallways with your school bag. Your eyes glanced out the windows to the school’s front gate, spotting a black car parked by the road. Just as you noticed the vehicle, your phone buzzed and you fished it out of your pocket to check the notification.
STUCK-UP SUNGLASSES GUY: We need to talk.
You left his message on read and placed away your phone. As you were about to walk down the stairs, your hand was called, and you paused to turn your head, spotting your classmate and star student Sung Jinah rushing towards you with an annoying object in her hand. You turned around and backed off to the side so others wouldn’t be staring or complaining about how you two blocked the way. Your eyes stared at her silently while she caught her breath. Once she did, she raised the object for you to take, “You almost forgot your umbrella; it’s pouring outside, don’t want you to be soaked and get sick.”
“I won’t.” You didn’t bother to explain which statement you were implying, nor did you thank her for her kindness. You glared at the object before snapping your eyes back to her, involuntarily making her flinch at attention, “Why don’t you hold onto it? You don’t appear to have one.”
Jinah shook her head and turned to her side to show your her schoolbag behind her back, “My brother packed me one just before I left home today. So I got myself covered.”
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. There went your plan to abandon the freak. You forced a smile on and took the object from her, “Too bad.” You turned to leave school not before saying goodbye to Jinah since she initiated one first. You mumbled, “See you never…”
In your hand was a plain red umbrella that you kept tapping the tip against the floor or any surface as you continued your walk. At the building’s entrance or exit, depending on your travel direction, people were opening and closing their umbrellas, waiting for the rain to lighten up, or just dashing into the rain with their bags over their heads to avoid being soaked. Stepping close to one of the pillars, you harshly swiped the umbrella at the stone structure. Anyone that was near you shuffled away from your radius. Your umbrella opened without issue, and you held it overhead before stepping into the rain.
You opened the passenger slide door without missing a beat and entered the car. You purposefully slammed the car door at the handle of your umbrella, and it closed before you brought it in. To your right appeared Mr. Scarletella with a blushing face and hearts for eyes; to your left was Mr. Crawling, who had been a good boy staying out of sight and patiently waiting for you.
“Guildmaster.” The driver and the one you titled as ‘stuck-up glasses guy’ spoke up. This man, Woo Jinchul, was basically Chairman Go’s right-hand man. An A-Rank Hunter who could have been a celebrity but decided to follow the worthy Chairman and his noble goals, but you’re not one to judge; after all, you are technically following the same man as well.
“Hm?” You hummed with a lack of concern or interest. You opted to play with Mr. Crawling’s hair, straightening it out while he purred and nuzzled into your gentle touch.
“This is serious.” You didn’t need to shift your gaze to know he was staring at you behind his shaded glasses through the rearview mirror with a firm glare that would have threatened your attention―had you been a normal human being that is.
“Just talk, I’m listening.” You’re not really. Selective attention and whatnot.
Jinchul clenched the steering wheel but relented within seconds and stated as calmly and professionally as he could, “Stop playing around and acting like a student when you’re well over that level and age despite appearance. You have to control your guild better. One of your members, Kang Tae-Shik, have caused a scene inside a dungeon. He tried to kill the remaining Hunters during a contracted assassination.”
“So? I’m sure those were criminals.”
“There were reports that other Hunters were partaking in the raid and there were casualties.”
You looked away from Mr. Crawling to give Mister Bossy a look of disinterest. “Like I said, so? Deaths happen daily, if you cared so much, have your Chairman replace me with another guild leader.” You grinned at him with a haunt tilt of your head, your neck making a resounding crack sound though it’s not broken. “I’ll just find some other hunting grounds to work with.”
“You…” Jinchul controlled himself from lashing out.
Truthfully, he never understood the logic behind bringing someone as manic and bloodthirsty as you into the ranks of the Hunter Association. The Chairman gave you a dirty job, but you accepted that with pride and joy. You have been doing your part in the beginning, though as of late, you have been slipping and couldn’t afford to lose your power and influence. Especially when you control those entities of another world like a mage Hunter with their summons.
That was another point. You weren’t a Hunter. You had no mana when you were being tested, yet you had inhuman capabilities. From speed, strength, to healing and otherworldly communication with your summons. You were human, yet there was always that unsettling aura around you that would make those around you doubt your identity. Still, you were no monster from a Gate. That was certain.
“I don’t mean for you to leave your post. You’re… irreplaceable in the Chairman’s eyes.” Jinchul’s voice trailed off as if he was forced to admit something he strongly disagreed with.
You rolled your eyes at his display; he was acting worse than Mr. Scarletella, and that was shown a lot. “What do you want me to do now?”
“If you can recover the bodies from the Gate and file them in a report, that would be much appreciated.” Jinchul only started the car when you gave a low hum of compliance. The drive to the site was quiet, save for the coos you gave to Mr. Crawling and the yells you snapped at Mr. Scarletella. Though you did try to recall who Kang Tae-Shik was, then you did recall someone by that name you recruited into your guild, but you found him annoying, so you dropped him off to Jinchul to deal with without telling the guy that Mr. Purple Head was one of those twisted Hunter.
Namely, three essential figures supported the Hunter Association’s function. The Chairman, Go Gunhee, who acted as the pillar and shield for citizens and Hunters alike, the figurehead of the organization itself and he obviously held the most influence. The guild master of the Other Guild, you, who acted as the punisher to those that threatened the peace from the shadows. To balance the two was the monitor, Woo Jinchul, who connected the Hunter Association with Hunters; his work was so diverse that one could say he had a hand in everything.
The two of you were brought together by Gunhee under the reason of work and tolerated each other when the time came to work together. There was some sort of sibling interaction between you two, with Jinchul being the older one and even the Chairman felt like he was taking care of you from time to time. It was odd, but you didn’t care so long as attention wasn’t directly drawn to you and you didn’t have to pay for the kills you made.
“We’re here.” The car stopped and you opened the door to leave. By then the rain had stopped and you merely held onto the umbrella idly after putting on your signature raincoat and pulled the hood over your head to cover your face as always. Mr. Crawling followed behind you, crawling on all fours with a fond smile on his face. This sight was no stranger to the officers of the Hunter Association, but any onlooker would linger their confused and disturbed expression on the display.
You ignored the Hunters and went straight for the officers to get some form of brief report to them. “It has been 40 minutes since the dungeon was cleared and the remaining Hunters reported that the bodies are scattered about. Should we send personnel with you?”
“Don’t bother.” You fixed your outfit and took out a crowbar from your bag, even strapping a dagger behind your back, curtsy of the Chairman after you joined his ranks. You were given more toys to play with and it made your work all the easier. “I’ll be out within 10 minutes or so. If not… I’ll still be out anyways…”
Jinwoo’s eyes widened when Song Chi-Yui took the blame for killing the rogue member and killer, Kang Tae-Shik, even Lee Joohee did the same and went along with the lie. Having time to himself after Jinchul’s warning about Hwang Dongsuk’s younger brother seeking revenge, he thought back to the last words of the defeated assassin class Hunter.
“Your shadow… is connected to the darkness. You will become… as strong as your shadow’s depth in the dark…” Agonizingly, Tae-Shik wheezed as he muttered softly. “In a way… You remind me of my guildmaster… Unsuspecting but strong and terrifyingly deadly… I wonder… if you two will… ever meet…”
Jinwoo wasn’t familiar with Tae-Shik, but he was confused when he said he had a guild master because he was a member of the Hunter Association. So the only answer was that he belonged to the rumoured guild working for the association behind the public’s knowledge, a guild that focused on eradicating the darkness and evils. A necessary evil that people, both citizens and Hunters, disregarded as hearsay to pressure people to obey laws.
Still, that aura around you when you passed by, that aura that screamed murder and violence, that aura that made him question: Are you human?
Your eyes blinked and your head turned to a particular direction. You spotted a young man staring your way with a thoughtful look. Jinchul had already moved elsewhere with the remainder of the raiding party, so that man that was standing alone had to be someone left unattended because he had nothing to provide, like a suspect that was released back to the public because they were deemed harmless and innocent. Though, you could tell…
For the longest time, you and Jinwoo never crossed each other’s path again until you were called in to verify Jinwoo’s acquisition as an S-Rank Hunter. When the two of you had some time alone, you called him out with a soft yet confident statement. “You’re the one that killed the man, the weakling Kang Tae-Shik.” You stepped closer to him while your ghostly companions shook; they knew who, or at least they could also sense what Jinwoo was. Your dead heart beat like a drum, and your dull eyes sparkled with anticipation, “You have the scent of death around you. You’re familiar with death and murder.” A smile formed on your face as you invaded the frozen man’s space. “Who else did you kill cruelly and coldly?”
“...” Jinwoo can’t tell why he answered you, but he did. Unlike your hyper and eager look of expectancy, his was stoic and indifferent. “Hwang Dongsoo.”
Note: I wanted to do the dark side of the Hunter Association and this crossover was just perfect for it and now we're here. {Other Other World} could be tweaked for the two stories to be connected, but that's only if you guys wanna see that happen. How's this one in your opinion?
𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist: @rozuburedo @crxscnt @phisen @o-qi-shisme @bunnymysteriously @valeriele3 @ariseverdark @undecidingfate @stoats-a-dork (please let me know if you didn't want to be tagged cause this list is from the 1st idea)
