REVERSE ISEKAI'D IN AN OFFICE ROMANCE? chapter nine! (Patreon)

synopsis: who'd wanna trade a fantasy world for a studio apartment and a shitty job? well, you when you've got a ridiculously hot coworker you're sure is your new prince charming! it's just, uh, you didn't think you'd get caught up in a love triangle when your new neighbor starts noticing your new behavior!

pairing: dorky!coworker x isekai'd!reader x grumpy!neighbor

content: fluff and angst, reverse isekai, slow burn, (POTENTIAL SPOILER FOR THE UNNAMED EXTRA SO MAKE SURE YOU ARE CAUGHT UP HERE FIRST) reader is the og priestess from tue in that reader's body, tension, domestic fluff, crushing hard, jealousy, teasing

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This life was sort of turning you into a loser. Approval had never been something you yearned for before. But here you were, anxiously looking at a man and praying silently for his praise. 

You guessed you should maybe be the teeniest bit grateful for your neighbor’s half-assed driving lessons since you hadn’t completely humiliated yourself behind the wheel of your coworker’s car this time. 

Instead of an empty parking lot, he’d taken you to a quiet little street, his instructions a lot easier to follow when he put them in that soft-spoken tone, gesturing to where everything was and doing his best to make it simple for you to understand.

But even after not bumping into any parked cars and sticking to your side of the street, you still hadn’t managed to pull a good job out of him. 

“Pull in here,” he murmured, pointing out a driveway with a single car in it approaching on your left. 

“Okay,” you swallowed hard, trying to slow down and ease the car into the narrow pavement – just for a wheel to go over the grass anyway. “Shit.” 

The curse slipped out, your head snapping over to check his reaction as your foot pumped on the brakes. 

“It’s okay, just pull in a little more,” he calmly said, nodding you along even when you were tapping the pedal every two seconds, frankly a tiny bit terrified you’d hit the car in front of you. But you managed to stop just shy of it, putting it in park and looking over to him all expectantly.

“Did I do something wrong?” You earnestly asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“No, no, you were good,” he reassured you, blinking a few times like he was surprised you even asked. 

“Are we switching spots then?” You followed it up, your throat constricting at the way he was looking at you. 

Up close like this, with him leaning in on the passenger seat side instead of dutifully focused on driving, his stare felt intense. Intimate, actually. His dark eyes probably saw through the fragile shield of cool you were trying to hide behind, the fading sunlight highlighting his pretty features. 

Playing nonchalant never seemed to work when you felt like he could somehow sense your soul even if it was wearing the wrong skin. 

“Nope,” he answered, all casual and calm, ignoring your confusion. 

You didn’t get it. 

Did he want you to practice reversing? 

You were getting a little sick of driving, your stomach starting to grumble – too used to the easy access of food here when meals had been far more sparse in your past life. He hadn’t really reacted over the phone when you called this a date, but he had promised that you’d have dinner together after an hour of practicing.

Yeah, you didn’t really expect him to have you for a snack the way your neighbor had, but the anticipation was gnawing at you, trying to guess what he had in mind and worried that it wouldn’t live up to your expectations.

“I know you said you’d treat me, but-” 

It took everything in you not to wear your disappointment on your sleeve, an invisible blow to your chest and your ego as you stared at him, waiting for him to rain check you. 

“This is my place,” he revealed, reaching across the center console to take the key out of the ignition as your lips parted pathetically, unsure of what to say. “My brother’s been begging to see you, and if it’s not weird, I thought maybe you’d like something homemade?” 

“I would love that,” you said far too eagerly, the heart that had just deflated pumped back up again as you grinned at him. “It’s not weird.” 

You actually had zero frame of reference if it was in this world. 

But it made you feel all warm and fuzzy and light inside, so even if it was, what did it matter? 

He pocketed the keys, pushing open his door while you rushed to do the same, smoothing out your skirt and trying to make your heart stop fluttering so much as he walked around to your side. 

“I, um, still want to treat you to a meal sometime,” you muttered once he fell back to your side, his hand brushing against yours as he started towards the little path up to his front door. Someone had scribbled in faint shades of green and blue on the sidewalk, stick figures and letters and numbers that looked a little nonsensical. 

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, but he seemed a little nervous, only half his mouth curling up into a smile as he reached for the handle.

It was already unlocked. 

The door swinging open to a flurry of sound inside, familiar laughter accompanied by new voices as your coworker ushered you inside. 

His family was here.

Of course they would be. 

He told you about them enough that it sort of felt like you already knew them, but it still felt different to meet more people that were important to him. 

It made this, whatever it was brewing between you, feel far more serious. 

“This the pretty girl you keep babbling about?” A crude voice called out, loud and boisterous, laughing as he spoke, your head snapping to a muscular brute of a man wearing a tiny apron over his workout attire, holding a tray filled with…well, you didn’t actually know. He noticed you eyeing it, holding it up higher with a big smile, “You want a pizza roll?” 

“Oh, um, sure?” You answered, your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the chaotic scene in front of you. Belatedly realizing that your coworker must have called you pretty, cheeks heating up as you stole a glance over at him. He was sheepishly raking his fingers through his hair, but his attention was elsewhere.

To the toys scattered across the living room, the TV playing on full volume as the only other one you’d met gawked and grinned at you. 

“You brought her,” he squealed, dropping his toy and running over to wrap his arms around your leg, his face sort of sticky as he rubbed his nose against your calf. “Pretty lady.” 

Oh. 

You supposed it wasn’t your coworker calling you that then. 

Well, at least his family liked you. That was worth something, right? 

He rattled off his other brothers’ names by your side, barely giving you the time to process or remember them as they greeted you. He had to practically pry the youngest off of you, goading him into going to the bathroom and washing his hands before going to the dinner table to eat. 

You just went along with it. 

Nodded when you were supposed to. Behaved your best and answered the questions you could when they all gathered around a not-so-big table, all the chairs and plates crowded together. The dinner itself was a mix of foods that were utterly foreign to you, the pizza rolls and a big pot of spaghetti, warm bread fresh out of the oven served next to chicken nuggets. 

He muttered under his breath to one of his brothers about what happened to their previous dinner plan, but you didn’t mind. 

It was just fun to feel like a part of their family. Letting them scoop you more stuff onto your plate and pour you soda and listen to them bicker and go back-and-forth. 

You kept eying him throughout it, watching him relax more and more as the minutes melted away, his shoulders slumping, the collar of his sweater loose around his neck as he leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. 

He seemed at ease here. 

His sharp edges softened as he stretched his legs out as much as the table allowed, his stare finding yours every few minutes like he wanted to check on you too. 

When all the plates were littered with crumbs and the last of the food had been eaten, he was the first to stand, stacking up plates in his hand before two of his other brothers got up and shooed him back. 

“We can handle it, big bro,” one of them grinned, giving him a thumbs-up as you pushed your chair back. 

“Yeah, why don’t you guys chill for a little bit?” 

Maybe it was your imagination, but it certainly felt like they were trying to set you up together too. 

You wondered if you were the first girl he brought home like this. 

Or if maybe he had been mentioning you too. 

But you kept your questions to yourself, still absorbing as many details of his house as you could when you wandered back out to the living room. His little brother had resumed playing, albeit asking for dessert every thirty seconds, building something out of tiny miniature bricks on the floor, a hundred of them spilled out around him while he laid on his stomach. 

“They really love you,” you murmured, curling up in the corner of the couch while he sat next to you. There were only a few inches separating your leg from his, but it felt like a mountain, something too big to cross even if you were aching to discover what it was like on the other side.

God, it killed you how easily it would be to picture yourself here. 

You hadn’t seen his bedroom yet, but you could already picture it. Dark, navy sheets. Dimly lit. A bookshelf with novels it would be easy to lose yourself in. You imagined falling asleep in there. Waking up next to his warmth, curled against his side and yawning as you asked to skip work for the day. 

Wouldn’t it be easier for him if he didn’t have to go out of his way to drop you off and pick you up? 

“I do my best for them,” he hummed, a pretty crinkle next to his eyes as he nodded towards the kitchen. “But they do their best for me too.” 

A tiny prick of jealousy struck you, a pin driven into your heart at what that had to be like. 

You had never really yearned for a family before. 

Didn’t know what to miss when you never got it. 

Growing up in the temple had been lonely. After a while, you got used to it. Accustomed to silence and solitude. But when the opposite was just so in your face, you didn’t know what to do. How you were supposed to feel. 

Even in your third life, there was still so much you hadn’t experienced. 

So much you didn’t know. 

“It makes me a little jealous,” you heard yourself say, the truth surprising you. You hadn’t meant to say it, but you couldn’t control your mouth around him. “It just, um, it has to be nice knowing that they have your back like that. Having a family-” 

You didn’t finish your sentence.

Your throat had unexpectedly closed up, refusing to clear even when you tried to clear it. Embarrassment curling inside of you, shuffling in your seat so your calves and feet were tucked under your thighs. 

“If you need a family, we can be yours,” he offered, his voice low, a little gravelly as his dark brows pinched together. Sincerity shining in his eyes, concern under the surface as he reached out like he was about to grab your hand, maybe sensing that you were struggling to speak. 

But before you could have your moment, before he could close his fingers around your wrist or actually touch your hand, your stupid phone started ringing. 

“Sorry,” you apologized, leaning over to snag where you’d left your purse on the table after you came in, slipping your phone out just to put it on silent.

But not before you saw the familiar name on the caller ID, your neighbor finding a way to interrupt even when you weren’t home. 

Fucking cockblock. 

If he took his dick out around you again, you were going to bite it. 

“No worries,” your coworker smiled, but it felt a little stiff. 

Part of you wished he was easier to read – but another piece of you considered that it could be part of his appeal. You liked the mystery of him. It was fun to unravel him. To learn more about him day-by-day. Getting to discover new details and revel in them. 

But there were moments, like now, where you watched him and you weren’t sure what he felt for you. Whether he was pining like you were or just pitied you. 

Felt bad for your circumstances and was just simply the sort of man who was truly this kind. 

You opened your mouth again, about to thank him, but then your phone vibrated. 

An annoying buzz buzz buzz you were both having a hard time ignoring, your mouth pressing together in a thin line as your eyes drifted back to your bag. 

You reached in to decline it. 

But someone didn’t seem to get the hint, your phone immediately buzzing again as you briefly contemplated just turning the stupid thing off. 

“You should get that,” he said, gesturing down even when you shook your head. 

“It’s probably nothing,” you insisted, but your phone was protesting that on its own. 

“If you want privacy, you can take it in my room,” he easily offered, and despite how badly you wanted to stay precisely where you were, you also wanted to see his room. Maybe after the call, he’d come in and sit on his bed with you and you could continue your little chat there. 

You hesitated, but you slowly nodded, “Would you really mind?” 

He smiled again, the same way as before, “Of course not.” 

You snagged your phone, leaving your purse there as he stood up, nodding towards a hallway branching off and leading you towards a room at the very end, pushing open the door to a dark room. 

“Take your time,” he murmured, but you detected the faintest hint of impatience in his tone, like he wanted you to be done sooner rather than later as he flicked on the light for you. 

His room was far neater than the living room. 

A board was posted on the wall, photos of him and his brothers plastered across it, cards with crayon handwriting stuck between them as you crossed the hard wood floor over to a bed that was bigger than yours. 

The blankets weren’t navy. 

They were actually dark purple.

A pretty shade, one you were actually rather fond of, running your free hand over the fabric before you awkwardly perched on the edge of it, glancing down at your phone before you sighed and swiped to answer it. 

“Hello?” You greeted, hoping your irritation bled through. 

“Are you home?” Your neighbor practically barked at you over the phone, your eyes rolling back before your mouth had opened to reply. How long had he been knocking at your door before he resorted to calling your number? 

You regretted even giving it to him, slipping it on a piece of paper underneath his door begrudgingly out of…well, you didn’t have a good excuse. 

“No?” You huffed back, folding an arm over your chest. 

“Can you get home?” He impatiently asked, your lips curling down in irritation as you exhaled. 

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” you muttered, thinking back to the man waiting for you out there. You wanted your kiss tonight. Or, at the very least, an embrace. 

“I need someone to stay with him tonight,” he grumbled.

“You’re a mess,” you bluntly replied. “Can’t you, like, hire a babysitter?” 

“You want me to trust my kid with a stranger?” He scoffed.

“You trusted him with me,” you reminded him, foot tapping the floor as your eyes still swept over the small room you were in, studying the desk against one wall, the books stacked on top of it and papers orderly piled. 

“That’s different,” he grumbled. 

“I’m not your nanny,” you hissed at him. You weren’t even really his friend. 

You just happened to live next to each other.

Yes, your old self would have wanted to save him. To go out of your way to assist someone struggling. 

But you had a hard time believing that he wanted to stop his own suffering. 

“Don’t you think if I had someone else to ask-” 

“What about the lady-” 

“She said no,” he grunted back, both of you apparently incapable of letting the other finish a full sentence as you rubbed your furrowed brows. 

“Isn’t there some other girl you’ve hooked up with you could ask?” You impatiently questioned, gritting your teeth as you watched a shadow move underneath the door.

You hoped your coworker couldn’t overhear anything. Or his brothers. 

“What kind of whore do you think I am?” He grunted, and you had a feeling he would not like the answer. 

You didn’t say anything for a moment, still staring at the shadows below the crack in the door, and he groaned on the other end. 

“I’ll give you two hundred-”

“I don’t want your money,” you half-whispered back, glancing towards the door as you tugged the hem of your skirt down. You stood, walking over to the mirror by the desk, squinting at your reflection, running your finger over a slightly-raised scar on your arm absentmindedly. 

“Please.” 

Was he begging? 

Actually sacrificing a sliver of his pride to plead with you? 

“Why?” You asked, half-referring to why he wanted you there and why it was worth his ego. 

“Something important for work came up,” he grumbled. “Double pay.” 

“Overnight?” You pressed, aggravated as you frowned at yourself. 

“Look, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ bothering you if I didn’t need this,” he grunted. 

Shit. 

You thought of the little boy next door, his somber scowl and his tense silence. You doubted he’d leave him alone just for his job, but it was enough to make you pause. 

“You owe me,” you gritted your teeth, already wishing you hadn’t set it as the weight of what you agreed to settled on your shoulders. Now you’d have to ask your coworker to take you back home and make it sound not-weird that you were watching your neighbor’s kid last-minute like this.

“You’re coming?” He asked, like he was expecting you to change your mind.

“I don’t go back on my word once I agree to something, so yes,” you muttered, disappointed in him and yourself and this whole damn night, exhaling hard. “But this is the last time, okay? You need to get an actual babysitter.” 

“Yeah, yeah, course, angel,” he readily agreed, not that you believed him. “You’re really saving my skin here.” 

Yeah, well, you wouldn’t like it weighing on your conscience if he couldn’t make rent because you didn’t watch his child. 

And it was proving to be a lot more difficult than you dreamed to un-drill all the rigid morals and beliefs that had been pushed at you since you were old enough to speak and read. 

“I’m serious,” you added, hoping you sounded stern as you sighed again. “You can’t just start calling me like this.” 

“Can I call you for other stuff?” He asked, immediately taking the opportunity to flirt like you weren’t annoyed with him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you grumbled, hanging up the phone and rubbing the corner of your eyes. 

You hung up before he could ask you something else equally absurd, turning around just in time for the door to open, your coworker peeking through.

“Sorry, I just heard your voice and you sounded upset,” he apologized as you brought the phone away from your ear, shrugging as he studied your expression like he was searching to see if anything was actually wrong. 

“I’m fine, I just, um, need a ride home,” you sighed, a weird lump forming in your throat you had to shove back down. “My neighbor had some work emergency, and his usual sitter can’t watch his kid, and-” 

“Oh,” he frowned, his face falling in an instant. 

You didn’t even get to revel in the fact that he was sad you had to go before his stare narrowed, dark bangs falling forward in his face as his jaw tensed. 

“I’m sorry,” you started to apologize too, but he was interrupting before you could finish. 

“He doesn’t have anyone else?” 

It took you a little by surprise. You figured he’d understand, given his brothers and everything. But he was just staring at you, his features tight and strained, like he really, really didn’t want to let you go. To watch you leave when you were in his room for the first time. 

“No, um, he doesn’t,” you answered, shaking your head.

“Oh,” he echoed. 

“I can get, like, a carshare or-” You started, even though you still hadn’t set up any of the apps you overheard your other coworkers talking about. 

“I’ll take you,” he quickly said, pushing his hair back. “We’ll just have to do this again, right?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” you eagerly agreed as he opened the door wider for you to slip past him. But he didn’t leave quite enough room, half your body fully grazing him as you entered the hallway. 

Was it immature to still be thinking of that warmth the entire car ride home? 

Lingering in it, swimming lazily around in his company and trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t love or lust or limerence. Lying to yourself and swearing that your crush was completely normal and not-childish as you both listened to now-familiar songs from his playlist. Neither of you made small talk, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

You didn’t want to think about work or the weird notes. And all of your private life was pretty much split between him and your neighbors next-door – which would be a nightmare to admit to him. 

Chagrin coloring your evening as he pulled up to a stop, murmuring something soft about you doing a good job driving earlier, the compliment you’d been waiting for as your fingers hesitated over the seat belt button. 

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you apologized for what felt like the tenth time, unable to look him directly in the eyes. 

But then his fingers brushed against your chin, softly tilting it up so you had to face him, his touch feather-light, nearly nonexistent, “We’ll have other nights.”  

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