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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months ago

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@lethargiccryptid :your husband tag 💕🥰

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?”

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.”

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.”

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.”

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.”

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?”

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.”

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!”

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!”

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!”

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.”

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!”

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?”

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.”

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?”

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

“As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent.

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter.

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being.

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk.

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm.

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips.

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl.

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck.

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl. It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket.

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller.

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

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Rad, once again (you already listened to me screeching like a banshee and ugly crying over it, lol), thank you very much for this amazing piece. It is beyond my wildest dreams alsdjasldkj

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

#jelly's library ☁︎༄｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ #higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #CAUGHT UP 😩#we are so back #THE INTERVIEW #god kento...kento....FFFUUU 🥵🥵🥵#my biggest problem #i would be his nightmare if i was in this story #LMAO THE QUESTIONS #Gojo sabotaged the questions 😭😭😭#Kento holding the paper like it's radioactive 😭#im dead #Reader aced it!!!!#omg the cafe #i need it in my life so bad #Hiromi and reader keep running into each other #IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME #more kento and hiromi footage!!!!#godss I....#UGHHHH #i love Kento's appearances sm #im lapping it up like a thirsty beaver #HE SOOOO #the SMOKING?!#omg i love them sm #Hiromi he's in love even tho he dont know it yet 😩😭#grand delectable feast my thanksgiving came again in February thank you so much for this Fuku 💕💕💕💕#the awkwardness the longing the characterization the dialogue with the red bow crowing jewel of the legal background is CHEFS KISS

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peacheeeliz · 2 months ago

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HEY EMO BOY

SYNOPSIS ⤏ could there be anything that could make your shift at the local coffee shop better? there is! and it's the hottest emo boy you'll ever find.

PARING ⤏ emo!jisung x down bad!fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, rom-com, cafe au, honestly crack au, she's so insanely down bad, but so is he, mutual pining, slow burn, forbidden?? love, mark is just really protective

FEATURING ⤏ nct dream, mingi from atz, matthew from zb1, manon from katseye, tsuki from billlie, ningning from aespa, and sohee from riize

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ leedainlee on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ swearing, kms/kys & nsfw jokes, suggestive, pls ignore timestamps 💔

STARTED ⤏ 3/6/2025

STATUS ⤏ completed ♡

NOTE ⤏ i love making preppy characters obsessed with emos 😋😋

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

ground up cafe | nightmares

prologue. why r emos hot

001. I NEED HIM

002. hi hyuck's cousin 👋☺️

003. but emos r hot 😥

004. chenle that's chocolate milk

005. decrepit

006. THOSE glasses

007. work environment enrichment

008. HIM

009. THIS CAN'T BE

010. code red

011. pls do not pull ur dogs out

012. let me at him

013. does y/n have a type

014. i can handle him

015. DOWN BOY DOWN

016. she don't want you (770 wc)

017. u lost me at stop hating men 💔

018. ABORT MISSION

019. aww ☺️☺️ oh... 😳😳

020. bcs ur short 😃

APRIL FOOL'S DAY SPECIAL 😋

special 1. baby

special 2. yuck

special 3. singles inferno

☆©peacheeeliz, 2024

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smau #kpop social media au #kpop fanfic #nct #nct social media au #nct imagines #nct smau #nct scenarios #jisung #jisung smau #jisung au #jisung fanfic

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sacredsorceress · 1 month ago

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in this home / logan howlett

PAIRING: logan howlett x f!witch!reader

SUMMARY: after the avengers disbanded, you were left with no direction. what happens when you save a certain mutant from the brink of death and invite him and his daughter into your home? (or rather, co-parenting and falling in love with Logan to give him and Laura the life they never had)

WC: 9.1 k

WARNINGS: SLOWWWWW burn, use of y/n, witchcraft (mcu style. i started this during agatha), hopelessness, mentions of death, injuries, nightmares, reader nearly getting killed, guns, a wannabe murderer, violence, blood, angst but also fluff!!

logan masterlist | inbox | masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

What most stories fail to discuss is what happens after the day is saved. They complete with a delicate happily ever after, wrapped in a bow and shipped off to the Void where the characters, presumably, live in domestic bliss for the remainder of their days.

You wish that were the case.

What they don't discuss is the mourning once the adrenaline has worn off- a gnawing grief that brings you to the knees in the middle of cooking dinner and a pain in your chest that renders you dizzy. They don't discuss they days you feel numb, sitting in the driver's seat of the car with nowhere to go.

You had spent years devoted to the Avengers. In a way, all you knew was saving people. But with Thanos defeated, fifty percent of the population returned to their loved ones, and the team disbanded, you were left with nowhere to go.

Some say if people no longer talk about a thing, it ceases to exist. With your name out of papers and no longer slipped into children's nighttime prayers, you wondered if maybe that were true.

Certain people, however, kept you from fading into the abyss as you knew it.

It was a Sunday morning and the cafe you sat in was packed. Between Sam Wilson being late and the awkward shuffle to steal a table the moment another couple sat up, you had almost gone home.

The conversation had been pleasant but you drifted in and out of focus, not being able to forget what this same conversation would have been like before.

Glancing out the window, you felt as if you were trapped within an aquarium.

The sharp, fluorescent lighting above had given you a migraine and the sounds of innocent forks scraping cake off their plates sounded like nails on a chalkboard in your ears. The passerbys laughing with their friends on the sidewalk shook you as if you were in a snow globe- as though everyone was living, moving... going someplace-while you were bound.

Sam's hand waved in front of you, breaking you from your thoughts.

"You could work for the government?" Sam suggested. He leaned back in his seat and pointed two thumbs at himself. "You've got an in."

You snorted. For several reasons, you'd have to decline but you imagine that sharing the same skillset as Wanda Maximoff would not go over well with the government.

Bringing a piping hot cup of coffee to your lips, you shook your head.

"No thanks."

Sam waved his hands in the air as if to brush off the suggestion entirely.

"Alright," Sam said, tapping his finger against his chin as if to think. "What about dating? My sister met her boyfriend on Tinder. Have you tried that?"

You raised your eyebrow at him as if to ask, "really?"

"I'm serious!" Sam defended. "Some lovin' could be good for you."

Besides the fact that that sentence alone made you throw up a little in your mouth, you couldn't think of anything less appealing.

Not to be a snob, but you weren't sure if the bright-eyed men holding fish in their photos and promising to let you steal their sweatshirt were right for a woman like you. In the past few years you had become a reclusive storm with trauma a mile long. Sprinkle in the fact that you were a former Avenger who dealt with the threat of danger and uncertainty daily, that was a recipe for disaster.

Who could deal with a life like that?

You shuffled in your seat.

"Can we change the subject?" You asked, clearing your throat.

Sam looked at you for a moment before leaning in. His arms laid crossed on the table as his voice lowered.

"Listen, I get. I do." He said, glancing at the passerbys. "But when Tony left you that land, he didn't want you to sit around and be alone forever, okay? You're alive and you've got some pretty cool wizard-"

"Witch-"

"Whatever, powers." Sam finished. "You think Nat or Steve would want you to sit around and mourn them?"

Despite how you failed to meet his eyes, instead opting to look at the dregs of your coffee at the bottom of its glass, his words hit you deep.

He was right.

"No," You said. "but I don't know what to do, Sam. What's next for me?"

Sam leaned back in his seat and shrugged.

"The whole damn multiverse is open." He sighed, lifting his own mug up to his lips. "You'll find something."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

A divination witch set you on your path.

Since breakfast, you hadn't been able to shake off your conversation with Sam. After your fellow Avengers' deaths, it had almost felt wrong to do something for yourself. Why did you get to live while the others perished?

But now you wondered how upset they would be to find out you had become a living ghost. You couldn't bear their disappointment.

It took you three fake fortune tellers before you found a proper witch in a hole in the wall shopfront. The pleasantries were short before her power overcame her.

Her eyes rolled back as the candles scattered about flickered. The light above you flashed as the bulb exploded, raining glass over your head. With a pen in hand, she scribbled on the paper in front of her. You listened to the etching of lead against paper while shielding yourself from the falling pieces of glass.

In an instant, as if you had imagined it, the lights fell back to their usual dim appearance, the rumbling stopped and she cleared her throat, suddenly composed.

She handed you that same piece of paper and sent you on your way.

Now, as the sun set beyond the horizon you skimmed the paper once more. Your candles had been lit and the aroma of the potion that had used up most of your stores wafted throughout the space, gurgling in its cauldron. Your symbols had been etched on the floor, written with your fingers dripped into the prior substance.

Now all that was left was the setting sun.

Check.

It was now or never.

With a deep breath you sat on the floor. The wood creaked beneath you as you did, as if your home could feel the weight of the spell you were about to cast- the future you were about to create. You crossed your legs into an all too familiar position and laid your hands palm-up on your knees.

The beat of your heart quickened in your chest, uncertainty threatening to take hold. You took a shaky break and cleared your throat. The silence of the room made it echo in your ears.

You closed your eyes.

"Oh maiden, mother, crone,

Show my path

written in thy stone."

The floor rumbled beneath you. A breeze filtered in through the opened window and brushed against you, raising your skin. You heard the sound of wood creaking, churning as if the house were renovating itself- expanding and rearranging the makeup of your walls. Finally, and most odd of all, you heard a lock click.

You turned around.

A door had appeared in your once solid wall.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

So this is what it feels like.

When Logan opened his eyes, he was greeted by a warm, inviting light. The evening sun had begun to peak through the windows of the bedroom, leaving shadows on his arm from where the blinds stood, weakly shielding him from its rays. A jazz song hummed from the distance, luring Logan with its melodic keys.

The first thing he noticed was the lack of pain. The last Logan remembered, he was impaled by a branch- body beaten beyond return. Laura was holding him, the children were safe, and for the first time, he learned what it was like to die.

After all the stories that he had heard, Logan thought that this was it. What comes next. Peace.

It took a bit of effort for him to get his eyes open- something he had experienced more than a handful of times after a particularly strong night drinking. At first, all he saw was light. Blinking a few more times a familiar figure came into clarity:

"Laura?"

His voice was raspy and he felt his vocal chords scrape against one another, dry. Just as he had made out Laura’s figure, she ran from the room.

Logan rubbed at his eyes with his left hand as he gripped the sheets with his right.

"Laura?" He called again. "Kid?"

Finally gaining clarity, Logan discovered that he was in a bedroom. The rocking chair that Laura had been in moments before sat facing him and continued to creek forwards and back after she had left. Throughout the room, various books and bottles littered every surface.

Before he had time to process, you came bolting into the room with Laura at your heel. The mutant rubbed at his eyes, as the image of the two of you wobbled in his vision. Logan, upon your entrance, attempted to lift himself up with a groan.

"Hey... hey." You cooed, gently easing Logan back into bed. "Easy tiger. Relax."

Laura took her place at his side as your soft hands laid against his bare chest.

"Relax?" Logan asked, a dry laugh escaping his throat. "Listen lady, I thought I was fucking dead. Where the hell am I?"

If there was one thing that Logan was terrible at- it was relaxing. And also probably mathematics if he really thought about it, but after nearly dying and being tasked with saving a dozen kids, relaxing was about the last thing on his mind.

He was tempted to fight back. Afterall, you were a stranger and it was rare that one of those had the best intentions with him. That was until he saw Laura- safe and clean and, most importantly, calm- looking up at him with her doe eyes.

The last time he saw her this calm was with Charles. He felt a pang in his chest.

"She fixed you." Laura said as she glanced between Logan and yourself. "She's magic."

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, pulling his eyes away from Laura to look at you.

One of your hands remained on Logan's chest while the other flipped through a spell book on the bedside table. Your hand was gentle against his skin, encouraging him to relax without forcing him into the pillow. Your face was scrunched, focused on the passage below and yet, you seemed perfectly calm. It was odd almost. Logan couldn't remember the last time a person, especially a mutant, had been relaxed in his presence.

A part of him, albeit a one that often failed in the fight for dominance, was relieved to relinquish himself to you. He had fought, and fought, and fought, and fought. And, god, it didn't matter how many times Logan's body healed himself- he was tired. Exhausted.

If it weren't for Laura, after two hundred years, he was ready to die in the middle of that forest.

"Where am I?"

Shifting your attention back to logan, you placed your hands on your hips- leaving the spot on his chest where your hand had once been cold.

You and Laura exchanged looks and the girl giggled quietly.

"Well, the short answer is upstate New York." You responded with a flair, watching as his eyebrow arched. "More specifically? You're in a different universe."

Huh?

Logan glanced between you and Laura. A silence hung in the air as you both looked at him with playful grins on your faces.

Logan had been unconscious for about a week while his body healed. In that time, you had watched over Laura- explaining the different universes, your magic, and the way those with abilities were perceived in your world. By now, this had become home. Logan, however, would need a bit more convincing.

When he realised the both of you were being serious, a congested laugh left his throat.

"Oh c'mon." Logan chuckled in his gravely voice. "I must've hit my head real fucking hard-"

"-She's not lying!" Laura interrupted, squeezing Logan's arm enough to draw blood. "It's safe. Look."

Laura picked up his hand and held it in front of his face.

His wrinkles had vanished, elasticity restored in his skin. His scars had faded into nonexistence. The spot where Laura had just drew blood healed quickly, erasing any trace of injury. He watched the edges of his skin lace together again, born anew.

“How…” Logan began, noting how the callouses on his hands had seemingly disappeared. “How in the hell did you do that?”

You smiled.

“A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Logan continued to stare at you incredulously, his mind racing, trying to make sense of the matter at hand. Despite you never having done something this drastic before, you had seen this look your fair share of times and understood it well.

As the sun continued setting in the distance, the light peeking in had become more faded by the minute. With a wave of your hand, you shut the blinds, and the candles littering the space had alit at once with a resounding "whoosh".

Logan, more confused than ever, tugged at the bedsheet that had laid over him, kicking his feet over the side of the bed with a humph.

Laura had told you that he would be difficult... stubborn even. The life that he had lived, albeit longer, was not unfamiliar to yours. It was hard to trust and more difficult to accept comfortability. Even after being comatose for a week, in autopilot fashion he was onto his next mission. Despite you not affording the same grace to yourself, you weren't going to let that happen to him.

“Laura, honey,” You said. “Why don’t you let your dad and I talk a bit, okay?”

The child glanced between you and her father before nodding and making her way from the room. The door shut behind her with a click.

The air in the room felt thick. You could feel Logan's eyes burning a hole right through you.

You cleared your throat.

"Look, I'm sure you've got a lot of questions-"

The man ran one of his hands through his tussled hair while the other scratched his overgrown beard. As messy as he was in this state, a deeper part of you couldn't help but think of him as the definition of rugged.

"You think?" Logan quipped sarcastically. "Where's the rest of 'em?"

The other mutant children.

"They're here too." You said, crossing the room to your rocking chair. "I'm part of this sort of ... uh... organization.. for people like us. With special abilities. When I ended up in your universe and came back here, I contacted some people I knew and they've adopted them. We're starting a school for them too, but otherwise they're going to grow up like any other kid. Not soldiers." You crossed your legs, allowing the old wooden chair to creek back and forth. "They deserve it."

Logan couldn't help a scoff that escaped him. A light, tired smile fell to his lips as he thought of a new school for mutant kids. The old Logan would have laughed, but with the death of the professor remaining a fresh wound, it felt like a relief.

You did what he couldn't.

"A school, huh?" He asked.

You smiled.

"A school."

For a moment, silence hung in the air. The only sound was the persistent creak of wood emanating from your rocking chair.

"Logan, I-" You pierced the silence.

"I'll take the kid and get out of your hair in the morning."

And there it was.

What you had been fearing the past week.

"Logan," You treaded carefully, fearful that one wrong movement would send him out the door. "Don't. I'm serious when I say that I want you here. I... it's been nice."

He looked at you quizzically. As if a cartoon lightbulb had flashed with an animated ding! above him, the answer came.

"That uh... what did you call it? Organization?" He pondered, looking at you solemly. "Let me take a guess- it's not around anymore?"

A silence hung in the air once more.

"Let me take a guess," You said just above a whisper. "Yours isn't either?"

His unresponsiveness answered your question.

"Right, well," you said, ceasing your rocking. "If you want to go, I won't keep you here. I'll help you out in whatever way you need to get your life started. But between us... I like the company."

You pushed yourself to your feet.

"I'm going to go start dinner." You announced, slipping towards the door. "Think it over and let me know."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Laura was perched in front of the television while you sat planted behind her, braiding her damp hair. The blue light of the television reflected off of her face as she absentmindedly shoved popcorn into her mouth— focused solely on the screen.

Above the crunching of popcorn kernels you heard Logan's sock padded feet make their way into the room.

His hair was still wet and you could tell that he had tried to tame it by brushing his fingers through either side, sticking it up.

Logan smiled when he was greeted by you and Laura dressed in pajamas watching some princess movie on the television. Although he would never be caught dead in pants with ice-skating penguins on them, instead adorned in the matching gray sweatpants and t-shirt you laid out on the bed for him, he found it.. comforting. One would even say "cozy" and "domestic" if they had it in their vocabularies, to which Logan did not.

All he knew was this was a far cry from what he had been experiencing the week prior.

"Hey," You smiled up at him, nudging your head to the next room. "Dinner's in the dining room. I'll be there in a minute once I finish up her hair."

He wanted to argue about how you didn't need to make dinner for him or, better yet, spend the effort to come keep him company, but Logan knew better.

And, to be completely transparent, he didn't want to say no.

Logan instead nodded and pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against. He moved towards the dining room, grabbing a handful popcorn from Laura's bowl as he went past.

"Hmph!" She snarled, snatching it back.

Logan shrugged and shoved a few kernels into his mouth, "Taxes."

You giggled as you watched the two of them interact, tying off Laura's hair.

"All good to go, missy." You announced.

In the dining room, the candle that you had left burning on the table illuminated Logan's face. The warm tones of the flame highlighted the curve of his nose and the reddened blush on his cheeks from the warmth of the space. An old jazz song played on the record player as Logan leaned back in his seat, taking a sip from the glass of whiskey you had left for him on the table.

When he heard your footsteps, Logan looked up and tipped the glass towards you.

"How'd you know?"

You shrugged, pulling out the chair beside him.

"Lucky guess."

Leaning forward in his seat, Logan placed the glass back down on the table. The silence between you was comfortable- your feet resting on the rungs of his chair as the melody from the record filled the room.

Logan leaned forward and took a bite from the plate you had laid out, humming as he did.

"You made this?" He asked, mouth full.

You leaned forward, inspecting his plate.

"Well yeah," You responded warily. "Is it okay? I've just been cooking for myself the past few years so it might not-"

"You kidding?" He responded with a chuckle that came from deep within his chest. "I can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal."

You smiled.

"Well I don't remember the last time I had someone to share it with."

The comment came out before you had the time to quite think about it. You had only really met this man hours ago and here you were, feeding, clothing him, and having an air of intimacy surrounding you both that was owed to a pair who had known each other far longer.

To your relief, a crooked smile rose to Logan's face as he shook his head.

The two of you sat in silence, Logan eating his meal as you relaxed into your seat, letting the music soothe you. The noise from the television playing in the other room periodically carried into the one you sat in but you, and unbeknownst to you, Logan, found solace in it. The company, the warmth of sitting close to someone, and the mashup of various sounds were a comforting reminder that you weren't alone.

After a moment, Logan cleared his throat.

"I'll go find some work tomorrow."

"Logan, you really don't have to-"

He shot you a look- eyebrows raised and lips drawn in a thin line- that told you that he was firm in this.

"Listen," He said. "I appreciate all this, but if the kid n' I are gonna stay, I need to do something, alright? Let me help."

You nodded, biting back your smile at his decision to remain.

"There's a lumberyard up the road if that's your thing." You said bringing a glass to your lips. "The owner's always complaining he can't find new guys out here."

Logan scooped up another bite with his fork.

"That'll work."

"Good." You said with a smile. "Then it's settled. Your new life starts tomorrow."

Or was it today?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

At the end of the first week, Laura's nightmares began.

Her screams- not of her usual rage, but of sadness... fear- would pull you and Logan from your slumber. You'd rush from your bedrooms on opposite ends of the hall towards Laura. His hands would reach for the knob first, but you'd be at her bedside in an instant, brushing past him.

He'd flick on the light as you brushed her hair from her forehead, cooing her awake.

"Laura, honey, it's a dream." You said, shading her from the light as she opened her eyes. "We're right here."

We.

It was the first time that you referred to you and Logan as a pair. A team. The other half that made you whole.

It became the same pattern every night. You'd wake up to her cries, rush to her aid, then read with her until she fell asleep. With you both within reach, she'd fall peacefully back to sleep- staying that way until the morning.

This night, when you went to tuck Laura in, however, you never made it back to your beds. With either of her hands, she held onto one of your wrists, urging you to stay with her as she fell asleep. The look on her face could melt even the Wolverine's heart, how did you stand a chance?

You and Logan made room for each other at the edge of the bed, sitting side by side with your backs against the baseboard. There were whispered sorrys and mumbles of discomfort as elbows collided with ribs and knees with shins.

"Kid did this on purpose." Logan grumbled.

Before you could ask why, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, alleviating the discomfort as you melted into his side.

"There."

At first you stiffened, in unfamiliar territory with the man you had only just met a week ago, but as you heard Laura's breathing turn to snores, you relaxed into his chest.

You could hear how his breath rattled in his chest, your head rising and falling with each inhale. You couldn't help but smile at the fact that Logan smelt like the body wash and shampoo you had left in the bathroom specifically for him. But not the conditioner. You should have guessed.

The nightlight in the corner spun, casting silhouettes of horses around the room. It looked as if they were running, chasing after one another but never able to reach the finish line.

The light ran over Logan's face, highlighting the scruff he had missed from that morning. His head had tilted back against the board, his eyes closed shut. You thought that if he had been normal, you would have noted razor burn on his neck.

With Laura's snores and Logan's eased breathing, you felt your eyes begin to lull, luring you into the sleep you so desperately craved. Laying your head on Logan's chest completely, you surrendered yourself to the wave of exhaustion.

Logan felt your head fall lower on his chest and your body go limp in his arms. As your breathing slowed, your hands fell into his lap and your leg draped over his.

He wanted to laugh. Really, he did, but the idea of waking either of his girls up stopped the laugh in its track, it falling to a scoff that just barely escaped his lips.

If only the man he was two weeks ago could see him now- tucking his daughter into bed and falling asleep with a woman in his arms all without a single worry in the world. Maybe he was dead and somehow made it to heaven.

But then he remembered his imagination couldn't make up a woman like you. One who took him in without a second thought, who worried about if he ate enough, who bought him new clothes because "they reminded me of you". Logan hadn't been able of conceiving normalcy. That, he left to you.

But he was still learning you then.

It was in that moment that his heart skipped a beat for the first time as your face nuzzled into his neck, hair brushing against his cheek. It was such a shocking feeling- one he hadn't known in decades- that his hand flew to his chest.

Then he realized- it was you. You did that to him.

Fuck.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

After a month, Logan got his own vehicle: a truck with a front bench seat. Although it was old and a bit beat up, he took pride in it. And besides, you would’ve been lying if you said your ears didn’t perk up every time you heard that rusty door slam signaling his return from work.

Without thinking, all three of you had fallen into a routine. Laura, who had been playing in the front yard after school, would run up to her father, roping him into whatever she had been getting up to that afternoon. You, hearing the truck's engine turn off and the playful giggles of Laura, would find yourself on the porch watching the two of them- shawl wrapped cozily around your shoulders as you brought a hot drink to your lips.

And whether it was while he was drawing the most awful scribble you've ever seen in chalk, or roughhousing on the front lawn, you'd manage to catch Logan's eye.

What you didn't know, was that Logan had his own routine. He'd join Laura in whatever she doing, but when he heard that squeak of the hurricane door opening, signalling your arrival to the scene? He was like a dog. Logan would pause whatever he was doing, looking up to meet your eyes.

Only when you gave him the same, warm smile that he thought about morning, noon, and night, did he find the permission to continue what he had been doing prior.

He'd go back to passing the ball to Laura, giving her pointers on her throw, or pushing her on the tire swing he'd set up a week earlier; but now he had an added pep in his step knowing your watchful gaze was on him. It wasn't daunting, but peaceful, warm, and comfortable. It made him want to be better... do better.

It was always in him, but your faith in Logan is what brought out his potential.

Jean always said he had a soft spot for women. The same bitter resolve Logan reserved for the rest of the population would dissipate in the presence of the opposite sex- a remanent of a bygone era maybe. Maybe.

When the sun began to set- "God damn daylight savings," Logan would grumble- all three of you would begin to head inside, the warm glow of the house inviting the three of you in. Sometimes Logan would hold the door open for you, insisting he be the last to go in and lock up.

You figured it was chivalry. He knew it was the care and concern that had grown for not only Laura, but you.

Alternatively, you'd sometimes catch him before he crossed the threshold. You'd watch Laura skip out of earshot, and gently grab Logan's arm.

The feeling of your touch against his skin was foreign yet familiar, but most certainly welcomed. The absentminded rub of your thumb against the fabric of his shirt was enough to make his heart sink in his chest. Then, you'd look up at him with thankful eyes, peeking beneath your eyelashes and he'd wonder whether he'd physically be able to restrain himself much longer.

You'd comment on something you watched him do and remind him how good he was. But once, in a moment Logan would never forget, as the two of you watched your girl run inside, you snaked your arm around his back.

"We're lucky to have you, you know?"

Logan, stunned, wasn't sure what to respond, but luckily you didn't give him the space to.

"Now, what are we thinking for dinner? I'm starving."

Still, he waited for your foot to cross the threshold before he allowed himself to enter.

That night when Logan went to sleep, the interaction played over and over in his mind. He could feel the ghost of your touch against his skin as he fell asleep to the lullaby of your soft voice reminding him that you were his.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

After how many years does a person stop remembering their own birthday?

For Logan, it was complicated but he stopped considering the day very early on. When there was no one there to celebrate with and you had the "gift" of never ending regeneration, was it worth commemorating another year in a seemingly endless life? Especially with one such as his, he wondered...no. was sure.... that there wasn't anything worth celebrating.

It was like any other day: Logan woke up, ate breakfast, went to work... but unlike the rest of them, when he slammed his truck door shut after a long day on the job, Laura wasn't playing outside despite the sun's rays still peeking through the trees. Shrugging it off, he grabbed his bag from the bed and made his way inside.

On most occasions, Logan would have stopped.

Logan would have heard the hushed whispers between you and Laura, her giggles spurning you on to do the same. He would've noted the click of the lighter on the other side of the door, but in the complete opposite of Wolverine fashion, he had gotten comfortable.

"Just like we practiced-" Your hushed voice whispered from the other side of the thick wood.

Raising his eyebrow, Logan opened the door.

On the other side, you and Laura stood with a homemade cake in your hands. The candle on top- a "1"- flickered brightly as your voices rang out singing happy birthday.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you.."

Logan could count on one hand the number of times he had cried in his very long life, but seeing the two of you standing in front of him, he felt pressure grow behind his dark eyes. Your smile, bright as ever, welcomed him in and he couldn't help but admire the way that the flame made your eyes sparkle.

You had the option of anybody- anyone in the multiverse- and you chose him to share this family and home with. Although Laura may have encouraged you, Logan knew that this was your idea. The cake, the song, the candles, the banner hanging above the door- it had your scheming written all over it. You were warm and kind and, Logan would admit, so beautiful that in that moment, he got choked up. Never had he been shown care like this.

"Happy birthday dear Logan-"

"-Daddy..."

"Happy birthday to you!"

In one hand you brought the cake close to the burly man. With the other, you brushed a stray tear from his cheek.

"Make a wish!" Laura shouted, tugging on his arm.

Pulling himself back into the moment, Logan ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Well I don't know, kid." He said. "Doesn't seem like there's much to wish for."

"Oh c'mon, Lo." You said, brushing his hair from his face absentmindedly. "There's gotta be something."

And something there was. Rather, someone.

The Logan that had existed three months ago was a changed man. To be clear, he was just as stubborn and hotheaded as always, but the unshakable doom, gloom and overall nihilistic manner about him had shifted.

Once, Charles had told Laura that Logan was ready to die... wanted to die. Now, he would never let anything happen to him, not for his own sake but for yours and the mutant girl the two of you shared.

He wanted to wake up in the morning and smell the bitter coffee you brewed for him in the kitchen before work. He wanted to go to work and have the men tease him about his "missus" they knew nothing about. He wanted to come home at the end of the day to hear your laughs and jokes at his expense. Most importantly, he wanted to fall asleep at night knowing it would be the same tomorrow.

Logan, the lone wolf, the Wolverine, in his vulnerability had found a safe haven in Laura and you.

You, who gave yourself freely and optimistically. It almost felt wrong how he wanted more from you, but how could he help it? You gave him a taste and he wanted more.

Taking a deep breath- and rolling his eyes for show- Logan blew the candle out with a wish in mind.

"What's your wish?" Laura asked, bouncing on her toes as the smoke flitted through the air.

Logan, a bit embarrassed but not wanting to admit it, was preparing to mess with Laura about wishing for something completely asinine, but to his relief, you stepped in.

"He can't tell you, silly." You said, placing your hand on Laura's back to guide her towards the kitchen. "If he tells you, then it won't come true."

Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Logan a wink.

God, he was fucked.

Logan and you followed Laura into the kitchen, dragging a few feet behind.

"Didn't wanna know what I wished for?" Logan asked.

The Logan of long ago- the one who had the time and heart to devote to a woman- had slowly appeared the more time he spent with you. It's as if in the warmth of your love, the harsh exterior had melted away.

Sometimes Logan wondered if you were right that first day when you told him the old him was dead. Then, a moment like this would happen and he would be reminded that it was always in him, waiting for the right condition, or person, to bring it forth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, smiling. "I meant what I said. I don't wanna know. I want your wish to come true... don't you?"

Logan in that moment wondered whether you had peeked into his mind. Had you fished out his deepest desires and decided to dangle them in front of his face?

You hadn't given him time to ask. Instead, you left him standing in confusion in the foyer as you rushed into the kitchen.

"Laura!" You shouted, "Do not stick your hand into that cake! Laura-"

Shaking his head in disbelief at what his life had become, a dry chuckled escape Logan's throat.

"Jesus."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Considering the portion of her life that she had spent locked up in comparison to being free, you were proud of the progress that Laura had made. She picked up incredibly quick on the way things worked. She knew not to steal, how to use a fork and knife, to wait until the little green man appeared to cross the street- she was quick, intelligent, and incredibly perceptive.

One part she still struggled with, however, was managing her anger: a trait she had inherited from her father.

It was a minor concern. The life that you and Logan had created for her was one that made the likelihood of outbursts scarce- only a heated argument with Logan over something as silly as a game would be able to bring her claws out... metaphorically of course.

"Logan, she doesn't know what property tax is." You'd say after she stormed off with a stomp and growl. "Give her a break."

"That's not how the game goes." Logan would argue. "If the kid wants to survive out there, she's gotta know how the world works."

"It's Monopoly, Logan!"

However, as with any child, you couldn't always control when those outbursts occurred.

The three of you had had a nightmare of a weekend. A short trip that had otherwise gone smoothly, went up in flames last minute when all flights were canceled due to an impending blizzard. Rather than stick it out, with Logan needing to get back to work, the two of you decided it would be best to road trip back home.

For the most part it was fine. Intermittently Logan would scold Laura for kicking his seat absentmindedly and you'd all argue over whether to use air conditioning or windows, but besides that it was perfectly fine. Normal even. Which was rare for two immortals from a different universe and a witch.

When Laura begged to pull over for a snack, how were you supposed to know that it could go so wrong?

As you browsed the aisles, occasionally picking up a snack, skimming the back and placing it back where it came from., Laura had drifted from your side. A beverage in the back had caught her eye without you realising and by the time you noticed her departure, it was too late.

When you heard her sweet voice turn to cursed growls that resembled her fathers, you were across the store in an instant.

An old man stood before her with a hand wrapped around one of her wrists.

"Woah!" You shouted, standing between the man and Laura. "What's going on here?"

"Your brat kid stomped on my foot, that's what!" The man growled. "You oughta teach that girl a lesson!"

Although you had created a gap between her and the man, that comment had you throwing Laura behind you entirely. A part of you that had been buried for years- an aggression you barely recognized- came to the surface.

"Don't talk to my daughter like that!" You shouted, shoving your finger in his face. "You have some fucking nerve-"

All of the commotion piqued Logan's ears from across the shop. The unfamiliar pitch of your voice had Logan tossing his keys on the counter and quickening his pace to you.

"Oh good," The guy said. "Maybe you can tell your bitch of a wife to-"

In the past few months, Logan had become a man that the old Logan- figuratively and literally- would have never recognized. He was cool, calm, and collected. His outbursts were few and far between and never, ever violent.

But, hearing that bite in your voice? Seeing the fire in your eyes? And, worst of all, some man call you that? No Logan would have let that slide.

A part of him- a primal one that called to action when needed- came out then.

Before he had even had time to process the implication of what the asshole said, Logan had grabbed the collar of his shirt with a growl and slammed him against the freezer. Bottles rattled on their shelves as the collective hiss of a spare few crashing on the floor echoed throughout the convenience store.

"We got a problem here, bub?” Logan hissed.

The confidence of the man whose feet were now dangling in the air had deteriorated. The fear in his eyes was palpable as he gasped for air.

“No!” He gasped. “Everything’s fine!”

“Yeah?” Logan asked, shoving the man up higher, eliciting a whelp. “Why don’t you apologize to the lady then.”

“I’m- ah!” He hissed. “I’m sorry!”

Logan's face burned red as he held him high. A visible vein protruded from his neck.

"Logan." You called. "He's not worth it. Let him go."

The man's shoes scraped against the glass doors he was pressed against.

"Let's just go home."

Logan glanced to where you stood with Laura shielded in your arms. On any given day of his other life he would have beat that man to a pulp for insulting the only two people breathing who mattered to him. He would of let his conscience take a back seat while his fists led, the only consequence being a stinging in his knuckles for a brief moment.

But now, there was stuff- or rather, people... his girls- at stake. Any confrontation with the law could put the dynamic you had in jeopardy. His ego wasn't worth the price.

Logan dropped the man to the floor and wiped his hands against his jacket. Before he could allow himself to turn back and get himself into trouble, he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently guided you towards the door.

"C'mon, let's go."

Later, as the sun set beyond the horizon, Laura laid asleep with her head in your lap. Had she been anyone besides the daughter of the Wolverine, you would have argued for seatbelt safety. However, seeing her content face nuzzled in a sweatshirt on your lap- her feet kicked up onto her father's- how could you say no?

Logan lazily hummed along to an old tune playing on the radio, one arm leaning out the window.

He cleared his throat.

"Daughter, huh?"

His eyes were trained on the road but you saw a hint of a smile at the edge of his lips.

"Am I your wife?"

If he had been the old Logan- before the endless pain, before the wars, before the deaths of his loved ones- he would have told you he loved you right there.

I wish you were.

But he wasn't. Despite his appearance he was an old, disgruntled, traumatized, burdened man. Logan didn't have the same confidence he did decades ago where he could say it, mean it and not worry about the consequences.

And your love, romantic or not, was not something he was willing to gamble.

But God he wanted you.

"If you were my wife, I'd treat you helluva lot better." He said. The smile had disappeared, replaced by a stoic, knitted line.

The fingers of yours that had been running through Laura's hair stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced out the window, watching the trees on the side of the highway blur past you.

"You treat me pretty damn well, Logan." You said, trying to sound humorous but ultimately falling flat. "I envy the woman who gets you."

This should have been the moment that it changed.

This should have been the moment that Logan pulled the car over to the side of the road and told you that he didn't want to pretend to be a family anymore- three people who were falling into the roles assigned to them- he wanted you to be a family because you were one. It wasn't pretend. It wasn't a facade. You were a family in every sense of the word.

Because he was yours, you were his and Laura belonged to you as much as Logan.

When the guys at work asked about his missus, he wanted to say your name. The lines had been blurred, but he wanted to straighten them out beyond where they had begin- where they were meant to be. You with him, him with you, you all together.

How could he think about another woman when his world revolved around you?

But then Laura stirred in your lap and his built-up confidence crumbled.

She yawned, curling herself into your lap.

"Are we home yet?"

Pulling your eyes from the road, you smiled and resumed brushing your fingers through her hair.

"Almost, honey."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

"Logan!"

Your sharp cry woke Logan from his slumber with a start. Before he had entirely processed that it was your voice calling for help, he had flung the sheets from his body and threw himself out of bed.

"Y/n?" Logan shouted, his sock covered feet hitting the floor.

Below, he heard a shatter. He could make out the sound of distinct pieces of glass sliding across the floor as you screamed his name.

"Get off of-" He heard your muffled voice grunt from the floor below. "Logan, help!"

Hearing your pleas, Logan threw open the bedroom door and ran down the stairs- skipping three steps at a time. He felt his heart pounding against his chest so aggressively that he was sure he would be able to see the imprint of it on his skin had he looked in a mirror.

Despite his descending the staircase at a rapid pace, your voice became more distant the closer he got.

Then, he heard the back door swing open.

Logan dodged his way through the threshold of the living room, running over the shattered vase that littered the floor. Drops of blood stained the rug. The television that had been on when you fell asleep on the couch hours earlier was still playing reruns of your favorite show.

Logan quickened his pace. He felt the chilled breeze hit his skin coming from the backdoor left ajar. When he crossed from the kitchen onto the porch, he froze.

He could hear the rhythmic buzz of the electric collar around your neck- suppressing your powers- from where he stood. Your socks were wet from the freshly melted snow that stained where you stood on the grass. A deep red gash drew blood from your forehead, dripping down your face and over your cheeks.

Behind you, a man stood with a gun to your back.

"Who the fuck are you?" The stranger called, shaking you 'til you lost your balance.

You fell to your knees in front of him with a cry.

"I'm gonna be the guy who kills you if you don't let her go." Logan growled, fists balled up at his sides.

His voice echoed amongst the trees and as sturdy as it sounded, the feeling of his fingernails digging into his palms was the only thing that kept Logan from shaking.

You- precious, kind, loving- you were on your knees powerless, preparing yourself for your own demise. Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes as you heaved, no doubt from the fight you had just lost in the living room. Logan realized that for the first time in the months he had known you, you were scared.

You were like a fortress in a storm- sturdy, powerful, confident- but now it was as though a battering ram had been taken to your resolve, leaving you destroyed. There was something about that knowledge that terrified him even more- if you were scared, he had every reason to be terrified.

"Oh I'm not letting her go," The guy laughed. "The Avengers ruined my life. This used to be the Avengers Compound base and she's going to die here like the rest of them. You can kill me all you want, but she," He pulled your hair, "is going out with me."

As he tugged your hair, your face raised to meet Logan's. By now, tears stained your cheeks, running down your neck and into the hem of your shirt.

Finally, when life was going the way you wanted- in the way you felt you deserved- it was coming to an end.

The only comfort brought was that Logan was here with you.

"Logan-" You cried, a sob lodged in your throat.

Logan could feel his heart shatter into a thousand pieces at your soft, yet broken voice.

Holding back his own emotions for your sake, he breathed shakily.

"Sweetheart... I'm gonna fix this. Just-"

"I love you." You sobbed, hands tied behind your back. Your chest rose and fell with a wheeze as another cry escaped you. "God, I loved you so much it hurt. I wanted us to-"

Past tense.

Just like that, the dam broke.

Tears that had been burning behind Logan's eyes fled the corners, blurring his vision. His fists loosened their grip as one moved to balance himself on the railing. All the while, his chest burned with the fire of a thousand suns.

"Don't talk like that." Logan huffed, blinking back tears.

Then, Logan heard the click of the bullet falling into place.

"Show's over." The stranger announced. "Say hi to your friends for me."

People often wonder what thoughts go through your head the moment before you die. Some say their life flashes before them, others disappear without even knowing. You?

Oddly enough you wanted to remind Logan to clean up the glass in the living room before Laura could step on it. That you had bread rising in the kitchen that he should bake, or remember to throw out before it got moldy. That the deed to your land was in the safe in your office. The combination was your birthday.

But all you could manage was an-

"I love you."

You think that covered it.

You could hear his index finger fiddling with the trigger behind you. You swore later that you could even make out the sound of his knuckles popping as they bent into position.

Both were interrupted by a whiny slishhh as two shimmering claws shot from his torso.

Laura.

Like a gun going off at the races, Logan broke into a run across the yard. When you were feet away, he slid onto his knees in the wet grass and pulled you into him.

If his brain hadn't been so fogged, Logan would have worried that he hurt you from how tight he squeezed you. His calloused fingertips tangled themselves in your hair as your forehead found its home against his own. His other hand gripped your shirt for dear life, feeling the chill of your skin through the cloth.

His warm breath enveloped your face as he held you tighter- fearing what would happen if you escaped his reach.

Soft cries escaped your lips as he peppered your forehead in kisses.

"You're safe now, I got you." He said, more for himself than you. "I love you too, darlin', I'm right here."

Logan heard the earth crunch beside him as Laura wordlessly kneeled beside you both and slipped into your embrace.

.:*

After the first responders had come and gone, it was 3am.

You and Logan put Laura to bed together. When you leaned over to tuck her in, her arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her. Her fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt as her face hid in your shoulder.

For the second time that evening, tears burned in your eyes. This time, not out of fear of the unknown but peace at the future revealed.

You brushed her hair back and kissed her forhead.

"I love you." You said, quelling the shake in your voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

She pulled away and allowed you to tuck the blanket up to her chin.

"Sweet dreams."

As you handed her the stuffed animal you had gifted her the first day, her voice spoke out barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Mommy."

And the dam broke. As if sensing your composure, Logan reached out and laid a hand on your shoulder.

"Night kiddo."

Logan ushered you from the room, carefully closing the door as you exited. He took your hand in his and led you to your room.

His hands were just as you imagined them- callous and rough. But they didn't scare or deter you. No, they were a physical manifestation of his perseverance. The hands he would use to love, provide and protect you. They had to be strong, they carried the weight of the world in his hands. It was a comfort and privilege to be loved by them.

In your room, Logan turned the lamp on and guided you under the covers. He pulled the covers over your form and as he did, you snatched his wrist in your hand.

"Stay."

It wasn't question, an order, or a command.

It was a plead. A begging on your knees.

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

His voice was dry, tired.

Moving to the other side of the bed, he carefully slid into the space beside you.

"C'mere."

He stretched his arm over your back and eased you into his side. Like a woman stranded in the ocean and he your life raft, you slipped your arms around him and held him as if your life depended on it. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent for the first time.

Although it was new, the intimacy felt familiar. Whether because of your dreams made real or that you both had fallen into the place destined for you, you weren't sure. But the ease lulled you to surrender to your exhaustion.

"I love you." You mumbled into his neck, your vision fleeing from focus as your eyes drooped.

Logan breathed in deeply, stroking his face with your knuckles as your breathing slowed.

"I love you too, darlin.'"

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

This has been in the drafts for months and i'm SO excited to finally put it out into the world. replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I would love to know what you all think <3 laura's perception of reader and logan are very much based on the end of logan where she calls logan daddy (i wanna SOB) and i did edit a few chunks out to limit the word count aflkdjal, anyway thank you for reading!! -cass

#logan #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan fanfiction #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x you #logan howlett drabble #logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #logan howlett angst

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temis-de-leon · 1 year ago

Text

Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 2

Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)

Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)

Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

CW: pick me girl behavior, one of these girls is actually really stupid, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), nightmares, implied death, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, still ooc but i had even more fun

Satan

Your boyfriend looked more offended than you ever had the chance to feel.

The cashier at the bookstore barely had the time to say anything about her supposed romance with the demon before he appeared in his signature pose: a hand in his hip and the other one over his chest.

He had been a regular for years and you didn't know if the girl had been delusional enough to believe she had something with him or if she was just jealous and wanted to make you feel bad.

You weren't sure which one was sadder.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" he said with spite, distracting you from your own thoughts "Are you so daft you were considering me reciprocating your feelings?"

The girl lowered her gaze, clearly embarrassed, and for a moment you felt guilty. Maybe she really thought she had something mutual going on with Satan; a crush that went too far in her own imagination.

She proved you wrong, however, when not only did she give you a side eye, but also said the most stupidest thing one could ever muster.

"Well, obviously you are so daft you chose them over me"

You couldn't waste time on feeling hurt; not when Satan was showing his fangs, letting his tail scratch the floor as it lashed behind him. As hot as he looked like this, it was not the moment nor the place to show his demon form in a fit of rage.

The stupid cashier seemed proud of getting a reaction out of him, finally catching his attention. Maybe she was a demon of wrath too? Maybe that's how she flirted with other demons?

The poor thing would be lucky if she ever lived to see another day.

Let her discover that fact on her own.

"She's not worth it, Satan" you urged, pushing him to the door "Let's go to that cat cafe you mentioned earlier. You said they had new kittens, right?"

That seemed to do the trick.

He looked at you with love, still mixed with anger and bewilderment, but not enough for you not to hold his hand and lean against him.

"I'm sorry, my dear" he murmured, then he spoke louder "Do not believe a word she said"

"I would never"

"Good"

He nodded to himself, like the idea of you believing the cashier was too stupid to even consider it, but neither of you could ignore how his hand stiffened in yours for a second.

"Let's go see some kittens" you said in a singing voice, leading him in the street towards your destination.

You failed to see the adoration in his eyes.

Asmo

This succubus dated Asmo long before you were even an idea in your parents' minds and she wanted you to keep that in mind.

She wanted you to know that everything you knew, she knew better (a blatant lie) and that Asmo preferred experience over novelty (ew).

"I remember the times we went to the sauna and... Oh, sorry, does he take you to the sauna?"

"He invited me a couple of times, yes" but I had to say no or else I would've boiled alive.

"And does he...?"

Does he. Does he. Does he.

He does. HE DOES. HE DEFINITELY DOES.

In which moment did you think going to The Fall was a better plan than doing each other's skincare routine while making fun of 50 shades of Grey?

The both of you could be criticizing that poor excuse of BDSM right now (before recreating the correct version), but, instead, Asmo was ordering the girliest cocktail ever made while this Camila Cabello wannabe harassed you.

"...that was a little joke between us"

Lord Diavolo she just kept going.

"I'm so happy you remember so well your past relationship with him" you intervened with a strain in your voice, "but maybe it's time for you to stop and leave"

The succubus smirked with a smugness that made your innards burn from the inside out.

"Don't get jealous! I'm sure he loves you too"

Oh my Lord.

The lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch.

"Hon', look at this!"

There he came, your savior, dressed in a skimpy dress with hands full of shimmery drinks and a glint in his very beautiful loving eyes.

"They didn't have human beverages, but I swear the taste is impeccable, you'll love it! Just let me take a picture for Devilgram first"

Camila Cabello, as you had finally decided to call her, cleared her throat in search of the demon's attention. Asmodeus looked in her direction, obviously trying to remember who she was.

"Asmo, baby!" she was nothing but a smile full teeth and a mission. Her gaze a little desperate "Remember me?"

Her determination died, however, when Asmo's expression turned shocked after studying her. He grasped his chest in sorrow as he asked the funniest question you could hear at the moment.

"What are you wearing?"

Camila Cabello was finally at a loss of words and you briefly wondered if this had ever happened to her.

"If you're gonna meddle in my relationship with MC at least take effort in looking decent"

His expression was sweet, saccharine, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.

He was so beautiful. And he was all yours.

Beel

She was one of the boys, apparently. Beel had definitely never mentioned her, but the girl only laughed when you told her that.

"Wow, controlling much? Does he have to tell you about every friend?"

Well, no, Beel didn't have to inform you about everyone he's ever met, but your boyfriend was sweet enough to want you in every aspect of his life, thus introducing you to his friends, his teammates and even his gym bros.

Definitely not to this girl.

You looked at her in disbelief, licking your teeth with a calculating glance. How much would Beel care if you hit this airhead with a dumbbell?

"We hang out together almost every day" she boasted, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger "It's not even weird for me to be in the boys locker room"

Were you strong enough to throw a dumbbell?

Surely she'd rather be with them instead of you if she was 'one of the boys', no? Why would she be in the bleachers with you, waiting for the team to finish their training, when she could be in any other part of the field doing exercise or playing for another sport?

"I'm not making you insecure, am I?" asked the girl in poorly faked innocence "If he loves you so much you should have nothing to worry about"

"Oh, I trust him" you assured her, but you didn't sound as confident as you wanted to. Although Beel never gave you any reasons to doubt him, it was difficult to defend your relationship when this girl was so convinced everyone was in love with her.

"That's so cool"

You decided to ignore her and her mocking tone, hoping to end the conversation right there, but she just kept talking. It was obvious she wanted to get under your skin.

For what? you wondered. Did she expect Beel to leave you if she batted her lashes fast enough? Did she know Beel at all??

"Oh, Beely!"

You cringed with a scowl visible to everyone around you. Some of Beel's teammates laughed at your missfortune, while the others, the ones you liked best, turned around in horror and left without a second glance.

Wether he was oblivious or just didn't care, Beel wasted no time in running towards you with a smile on his face.

"Did you see me?" he asked, looking up to you with a boyish grin and brightened eyes.

"I'm always looking at you"

Beel blushed, his smile still obvious in his face, but he couldn't get another word in before the girl talked again.

"I was looking at you too"

You rolled your eyes and Beel immediately stared at you with a curious glance. He hummed in response, ignoring her once again as he reached out for your hand to caress your knuckles.

"There's a new limited edition menu in a restaurant near RAD"

No questions added nor needed. You smiled at him and nodded, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it. A promise for later.

"Noo, we used to go there so much..."

"Can you stop?" Beel interrupted her with a deadpan expression "You're making MC uncomfortable"

The girl looked at him in surprise, mouth wide open, clearly not expecting to be snapped at.

She didn't dare to look at you after that.

Belphie

It wasn't the first time you dreamt about this girl and it wasn't the first time you dreamt about her stealing your sloth of a boyfriend.

She wasn't some mystery girl, but rather Belphie's old seatmate, the one he had before you were kidnapped admitted in RAD. A quiet doe-eyed succubus that looked at him like he was the best thing that ever happened to both human and demon mankind.

She'd tried to sit next to him a couple of times with no avail, always getting rejected in your favor. Then, Belphie and you started dating and she stopped trying. You'd innocently thought she'd surrendered.

But not only did she search for him the very few times you guys weren't next to each other, she also ignored you completely when you were there.

Ignoring her back was easier said than done.

And this time, the oniric version of her wasn't just stealing your boyfriend. This time, he was willingly going to her, making your heart hurt so much it made you wake up with what felt like broken ribs.

It took you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together and not push Belphie away when he brought you back to his chest. The image of him kissing her while looking at you was engraved in your mind.

So, although sweating and hurting both from your heart and your confidence, you forced yourself to sleep.

You didn't notice just how awake Belphie was.

Back when you were still friends, you had allowed him to introduce himself into your slumber each time you had a nightmare. Images of you dying under the jaws and claws of faceless demons disappeared faster when the real Belphie was there. Ironic, isn't it?

He tried to stop every single one of them, but sometimes he was so deep in his own dreams it was proved to be impossible.

You thought this was one of those occasions, but, alas, you were wrong.

Days passed without any new event and Belphie mentioned nothing about your initial irrational coldness towards him, which made you feel a tiny bit better. Eventually you'd get so embarrassed about the situation that you had no other option but to dote on him like the brat he was, leading to a whole weekend sprawled over his bed in the attic.

The girl was still there, although not as persistent with Belphie, and she avoided you like the plague, with fright in her eyes.

So he did something about her, didn't he? But how did he know? And what did he do? You wanted to ask, curious as ever, but as time went by and the eyebags under her eyes started to occupy her entire face, you decided against it.

Barely a month later she disappeared without leaving trace. And since Belphie didn't even acknowledge her at all, why would you?

Tagging a little more: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae

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insertsaddict · 8 months ago

Text

and then nightmare gets mad no one told him you visited

I'm imagining Nightmare starting to keep a small calendar book, marking it with the times you visit...looking for patterns. Once he figures out your regular times of dropping in, he'll "coincidentally" come up to the front at just the right time to greet you...

I want to go into bad sans gang cafe and say "hi :>"

Horror starts panicking, Killer starts beaming and running for the door to let you in and give you a seat, Dust wakes up instantly and is hopping over the counter to get to you before Killer does

Nightmare's in his office and just hears the sound of chaos on the other side of the wall

Takes off his glasses

"👓 what's happening now,"

#bad sans cafe #nightmare sans x reader #sans x reader

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elikajinnie · 4 months ago

Note

Heyyy could you do a oneshot of sh or hs inspired on the song what you need by the weeknd

I Am Everything You Crave - L.H

P: Player!Heeseung X Fem!Reader (recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Non-Idol!au, Suggestive Content, Situationship?, Pursuing, Possessive Behaviour, Begging, Alcohol Consumption, Jealousy if you squint, Mature Content, he kinda down bad.

Synopsis: Working at the campus café was fine—until Lee Heeseung entered the picture. A colleague with a reputation, Heeseung had made it his mission to add you to his collection of women. Much to his surprise, you rejected him. That is, until one party changed everything. You thought you could forget what happened and move on, but Heeseung? He has no intention of letting you go so easily.

a/n: This is very suggestive okay?? since the song is freaky :3

now playing: what you need by the weeknd | fuck yeah by ballinciaga | rude boy by rihanna | shameless by camila cabello

Life had its ups and downs. Right and wrong. Yin and yang. It had always been like that, and it would always be like that. Life isn’t easy, and everyone experiences it differently. People make decisions—some good, some bad—and they live with the outcomes.

Your latest decision? Getting a job at the small campus café tucked between the library and the science building. It seemed easy enough. Take orders, make drinks, serve a few pastries, smile. You needed the money, and the huge gaps in your class schedule meant you either spent hours scrolling on your phone in the student lounge or aimlessly wandering around campus. You figured it was time to be productive.

Simple. Easy. A perfect plan.

Yeah, right. Super easy until the news that someone new was starting, and the worst part? You had to train them.

You found out the hard way, too—your manager casually dropped it into conversation while wiping down the espresso machine.

“Oh, by the way,” they said nonchalantly, “the new hire’s coming in tomorrow. You’ll show them the ropes, yeah? You’re good at this stuff.”

You blinked. Good at this stuff? You’d been working here for all of two weeks. Sure, you hadn’t broken the coffee machine yet, but that hardly made you a veteran barista. You wanted to argue, to say there was no way you could teach someone else when you were barely keeping yourself afloat, but the words never made it past your lips.

So, here you were—standing behind the counter the next morning, mentally preparing yourself for a complete disaster.

The door jingled, signaling someone’s arrival, and you looked up with a sigh.

And you physically recoiled, because why was Lee Heeseung standing right in front of you?

Your brain short-circuited for a moment as he stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, looking around the cafe like he owned the place. Out of all the people on campus, it just had to be him. You’d rarely spoken to Lee Heeseung, he wasn’t worth your attention—one of those guys always surrounded by people, mostly girls, and partying like it was his full-time job.

And the worst part? He was good at it. Heeseung had that effortless charm, those annoyingly good looks, and he knew how to use both to his advantage. He could flash one of those lopsided grins and suddenly everyone in the room was falling over themselves to talk to him. Successful without even trying.

You narrowed your eyes as he stepped closer, stopping just short of the counter. For a second, it looked like he was sizing you up, like you were the one out of place.

“Uh… are you the trainer?” he asked, his voice smooth, as if he wasn’t about to ruin your morning.

You stared at him blankly, the words barely registering. This couldn’t be happening. Heeseung—the Lee Heeseung—was the new hire. The guy you were supposed to train.

And just like that, your “simple and easy” job turned into your personal nightmare.

You slowly nodded at first, then answered, “Yeah,” your voice as flat as your enthusiasm. You gestured for him to come behind the counter.

He made his way around to the small door flap on the side, moving with that casual confidence that you already found irritating. You led him to the back, pointing out the row of lockers shoved into the corner.

“You can set your stuff in there,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “Aprons are on the hook.”

He nodded, tossing his bag into one of the lockers with no hesitation. Then he grabbed an apron, slinging it over his head and tying it around his waist in a way that seemed far too graceful for someone doing something so basic. Of course, even putting on an apron looks good on him, you thought bitterly.

Wordlessly, you grabbed a name tag from the counter nearby and handed it to him. It was generic, just the word Assistant in bold letters, no real customization. He took it with a small smirk, pinning it to his chest like it was some kind of award.

“Assistant, huh?” he said, glancing down at it. Then, he looked back up at you with a grin that had trouble written all over it. “Does this mean I’m your sidekick now?”

You stared at him, unamused. “It means you’re here to learn, not mess around.”

“Got it. I’ll be the best assistant you’ve ever had,” he replied, throwing you a mock salute.

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heel, heading back to the counter. “We’ll see about that. Come on, I’ll show you how to use the register.”

He followed you, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the smug energy radiating off him. This was going to be a long day.

You led Heeseung back to the counter, pointing to the register like it was some holy artifact he’d need to respect.

“This is the register,” you said, tapping the touchscreen. “It’s straightforward, but don’t let that fool you. People will make it hard for no reason.”

He nodded, leaning in a little too close to the screen for your liking. His shoulder brushed yours, and you instinctively stepped to the side, putting some much-needed space between you.

“Here’s how it works,” you continued, ignoring the way he casually leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world. You ran through the basics, showing him how to input orders, handle different payment methods, and deal with the occasional glitch.

“And this,” you added, pointing to the small clipboard tucked in a corner, “is where we keep track of special requests. You’ll hate this thing within a week.”

“Good to know,” he said with a small laugh, like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously.

Next, you moved to the shelves and machines behind the counter, pointing out where everything was.

“Coffee beans are in these bins,” you said, lifting a lid to show him. “Pastries are in the display case—use gloves if you’re touching them. Cups, lids, straws, napkins… all in this section here. And the espresso machine—” You gestured toward it like it was a ticking time bomb. “—don’t touch this yet. Not unless you want to break it and have the entire staff hate you.”

Heeseung raised his hands in mock surrender. “Got it. Hands off the espresso machine. Anything else I’m banned from touching?”

“Pretty much everything until I say so,” you shot back, turning to face him. “For the next three days, you’ll shadow me. Watch what I do, ask questions if you’re confused, but don’t try to take over. Once you get the hang of things, you can start doing some tasks on your own.”

He tilted his head, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smile. “So, I’m basically your personal assistant for three days?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re here to learn the job, not to entertain yourself.”

“Right, right,” he said, holding back a chuckle. “Serious business.”

“Exactly.” You folded your arms, watching as he leaned against the counter again, a smug glint in his eye.

Something about him made your patience wear thin, and you already knew these three days were going to test every ounce of your self-control. But you weren’t going to let Lee Heeseung get to you. Not a chance.

The door opened, and the bell above it gave a cheerful ding. Immediately, your customer service smile snapped into place, and you turned to greet the new arrival.

“Hi! Welcome in,” you said brightly. “What can I help you with today?”

The student—a guy in a hoodie and glasses—gave a polite nod before stepping closer to glance at the menu board hanging above the counter. After a moment, he pointed. “I’ll take a medium latte and, uh… one of those chocolate croissants.”

“Got it,” you replied, turning to the register. But not before noticing that Heeseung was watching you intently, his expression curious, almost amused. Ignoring him, you quickly entered the order, your fingers flying over the screen as you spoke. “So here’s how it works,” you said to him, motioning toward the display. “You tap the drink size, then pick the pastry from the bakery menu. Easy.”

He nodded, his eyes following your movements as if committing everything to memory.

Once you’d printed the receipt, you handed it to the student with another practiced smile. “Your total is on there, and I’ll bring everything out to your table in just a minute!” The student murmured a thank you before heading to a nearby seat.

Turning to Heeseung, you gestured toward the pastry display. “All right, rookie. Go grab that chocolate croissant and give it to the customer. Just use the tongs and put it in one of the small paper bags over there.”

He gave you a mock salute, grinning. “Yes, boss.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning to the espresso machine. It hummed quietly as you prepped the steam wand and started on the latte. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Heeseung make his way to the display case, grab a pair of tongs, and carefully place the croissant into a bag like it was some precious artifact.

When he finally handed it to the student, you couldn’t help but listen in as he said, “Here you go. Chocolate croissant, fresh and perfect. Just like I made it myself.”

The student chuckled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond, and you had to fight the urge to laugh. Of course Heeseung couldn’t resist being a show-off.

“Good job,” you muttered under your breath as he came back to the counter.

“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the counter again, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “See? I’m a natural.”

You ignored him, focusing on finishing the latte and pouring the steamed milk into the cup. Sliding the drink onto a tray, you carried it over to the customer, who smiled and thanked you.

As you returned to the counter, Heeseung was watching you with an amused expression.

“What?” you asked, arching a brow.

“Nothing,” he said, clearly lying. “You just take this whole customer service thing really seriously.”

“It’s called doing my job,” you shot back. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’m already learning from the best.”

You sighed, already bracing yourself for how long the rest of the day was going to feel.

For the rest of the shift, you took Heeseung through the rest of the basics. You showed him how to restock the pastry display, explained the cleaning routine, and gave him a quick rundown of how to prepare simple drink orders. At first, you were all business—focused on making sure he didn’t screw anything up. But after a while, you started to notice something… entertaining.

Heeseung didn’t just follow your instructions—he did it almost eagerly. Whether it was wiping down counters or organizing cups, he jumped at every little task you gave him. It was, admittedly, kind of fun ordering him around.

“Go grab the cups from the storage room,” you said at one point, just to see how he’d react.

Without hesitation, he nodded and walked off to fetch them, returning a minute later with the stack of cups in hand. As he set them down on the counter, he turned to you, that expectant look back in his eyes.

You frowned slightly. “What?”

“Did I do good?” he asked, his tone light but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. Did he just… ask for praise?

“Uh… yeah,” you said, a little unsure. “You did good.”

The way his face lit up at that simple acknowledgment made you pause. Heeseung looked… happy. Actually happy. Not smug.

From then on, you couldn’t help but notice it. Every time he finished a task, he’d glance at you like he was waiting for approval. And every time you gave him even the smallest bit of praise, his smile would grow, and he’d seem even more motivated to keep going.

“Nice job restocking the pastries,” you said after he carefully arranged the croissants and muffins in the display case.

“Thanks,” he said, his grin widening as he shut the glass door.

“Good work wiping down the tables,” you added later, watching as he gave the last one an extra wipe just to make sure it was spotless.

“Thanks, boss,” he said, standing a little straighter.

It became a game in your head, almost without you realizing it. Every time he did something right—or even just passable—you threw him a little compliment.

“Great job with the lids.”

“You’re getting the hang of the register.”

“Nice work steaming that milk.”

Each time, he’d light up like you’d just told him he’d won a trophy, his energy growing as the shift went on. And as much as you hated to admit it, it was… kind of cute.

By the end of the shift, Heeseung was practically buzzing, his earlier smugness replaced by something more genuine. And you couldn’t deny it—it felt oddly satisfying to see him so eager to prove himself.

As he pulled off his apron at the end of the shift, he glanced at you one last time, his expression hopeful. “So… did I survive day one?”

You smirked, tossing your own apron into the laundry bin. “You survived. Barely.”

He laughed, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Can’t wait to see what you make me do tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

You quickly grabbed your bag from the locker and didn’t waste any time heading out the door.

You slipped your phone out of your pocket as you walked, scrolling mindlessly through notifications and you were halfway through reading a message when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Hey, wait up!”

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Sure enough, Heeseung jogged up beside you, falling into step like he’d been walking with you all along.

“What, no goodbye after all my hard work?” he teased, his tone dripping with mock offense.

You glanced at him briefly, then back at your phone. “Goodbye,” you said flatly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He didn’t take the hint. Instead, he kept talking, launching into some story about how he almost burned down his dorm’s microwave last week because he forgot to add water to his cup noodles. You hummed in acknowledgment, barely listening, more focused on the text thread in front of you than his words.

But even as you tried to tune him out, you couldn’t ignore how close he was walking next to you. His arm brushed yours more than once, and he seemed to lean in slightly every time he spoke, like he wanted to make sure you heard him—even though he was plenty loud already.

And then there was his tone. It wasn’t just casual conversation; there was something… different about it. The way he dragged out certain words, the way his smile lingered as he glanced at you, the way he leaned a little closer when he joked—it all felt too deliberate to be innocent.

You finally tore your eyes away from your phone, catching the tail end of whatever he was saying. “…but honestly, I think the ramen was just defective. You ever had something like that happen?”

“Hm,” you hummed again, your answer vague.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his grin widening. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

“Not really,” you admitted without hesitation, slipping your phone into your pocket as you approached the entrance to your building.

He laughed at that, completely unfazed. “Wow, I see how it is. I pour my heart out, and you just ignore me. You’re cold.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t ignore you if you had something important to say,” you shot back, finally giving him a proper glance.

“Everything I say is important,” he said, flashing you a playful smile that you could only describe as shamelessly flirty.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his smile lingered just a little too long. “Well, thanks for walking me to class, but I can take it from here.”

“Oh, so now I’m dismissed?” he teased, taking a half step back but still lingering just close enough to make his presence known.

“Yep. Bye, Heeseung,” you said, your voice pointed as you turned toward the door.

“See you tomorrow, boss,” he called after you, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t bother looking back, but you could practically feel his grin as you walked away.

After your morning classes, you made your way back to the cafe, already bracing yourself for another day of dealing with Heeseung. When you stepped through the door, the first thing you saw was him leaning casually over the counter, his apron already on, talking to a group of girls.

You sighed to yourself. Typical.

From the way they giggled and leaned in, it was obvious they were eating up every word he was saying. And Heeseung, of course, seemed to thrive under the attention, throwing out a smirk here, a playful laugh there, and just enough charm to keep them hanging on his every word.

It wasn’t until you caught bits and pieces of his smooth, too smooth tone—compliments that were barely disguised as flirty remarks—that you really rolled your eyes. You weren’t surprised. Flirting was practically his second language.

When he finally noticed you standing there, his entire demeanor shifted in an instant. He straightened up quickly, waving at you with an almost boyish smile. Gone was the smooth talker leaning on the counter; now he looked like someone who’d just been caught red-handed.

You gave him a small, unenthusiastic wave back, not bothering to stop as you headed straight for the back room.

Inside, you grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it around your waist, and leaving your bag in the locker.

But when you turned around, ready to head back out, you nearly jumped.

Heeseung was standing in the doorway, blocking your path, a smug smile already plastered on his face like he’d been waiting for you to notice him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your tone edging into annoyance.

“Just wanted to say hi properly,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “You rushed off so fast, I didn’t get the chance.”

“You were busy,” you pointed out, crossing your arms. “Looked like you were having fun.”

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “They were just asking about the menu. Nothing serious.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, unimpressed. “And I’m sure all that flirting was part of the menu explanation?”

He grinned, not even trying to deny it. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Move. I have work to do.”

But instead of moving, he stayed firmly in place, blocking the door like he had no intention of letting you pass.

“Wait,” he said, his grin softening into something more playful. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

You froze, blinking up at him. “Jealous?” you echoed, then let out a sharp laugh. “Not even in your dreams, Heeseung. Now move.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender but still smiling as he stepped aside. “No need to threaten me, boss. I’m just messing with you.”

You gave him a pointed look as you brushed past him, heading back to the counter. But as you did, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grin lingered, like he’d just gotten away with something.

The rest of the shift carried on as usual—or at least, you tried to make it usual. Heeseung, of course, wasn’t making it easy.

He followed your instructions like he had yesterday, doing everything you asked without hesitation. But you couldn’t help but notice… changes. Subtle at first, but as the hours went on, they became impossible to ignore.

For one, he’d started staring. A lot.

You could feel his eyes on you almost constantly—when you were at the register, when you were showing him how to steam milk again, when you were wiping down counters. It wasn’t just a casual glance, either. No, this was the kind of stare that felt heavy, like he was watching you. Like he was noticing things he probably shouldn’t be noticing.

And when you did catch him looking, he didn’t even try to hide it. Instead, he’d just flash you this lazy grin, like he wanted you to know he’d been caught.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked pointedly after the third—or was it fourth?—time you caught him staring.

He shrugged, unbothered. “Just observing. You know, trying to learn from the best.”

“Sure,” you muttered, turning back to the espresso machine.

But the staring wasn’t even the worst part. It was the way he spoke to you. Everything he said was low, smooth, and infuriatingly deliberate.

“Hey, boss,” he said at one point, leaning just a little too close to you as you refilled the sugar packets at the counter. “You always look this focused, or is it just when I’m around?”

You didn’t even look up. “It’s called doing my job, Heeseung.”

He chuckled, his voice warm and annoyingly charming. “Just trying to make it more fun.”

When you showed him how to set up the sandwich press later, he leaned in closer than he needed to, his shoulder brushing yours as he peered at the controls.

“So, when do I get a promotion?” he asked, his voice low enough that it sent a faint shiver down your spine.

“A promotion?” you repeated, rolling your eyes as you stepped back to put some distance between you. “You haven’t even lasted a full week yet.”

He smirked, straightening up. “Yeah, but I’m doing a great job, aren’t I? You tell me all the time.”

“You’re doing the bare minimum,” you said flatly, trying to ignore the way his smirk made your stomach flip.

“Still counts,” he replied, winking.

By the time your break rolled around, you were honestly ready to strangle him—or maybe strangle yourself for letting him get to you. You’d only known him for two days, and yet he was already worming his way under your skin in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

You sighed as you finally sank into the chair in the back room, a half-eaten sandwich on a napkin in front of you and your laptop open to a half-finished school assignment. Break time was supposed to be your one reprieve from Heeseung’s constant attention, and you were determined to make the most of it.

The cafe wasn’t busy, and you’d left him at the front with strict instructions to just hold down the fort, take simple orders, and not burn anything. He had nodded enthusiastically, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that leaving him alone might have been a mistake. Still, you couldn’t babysit him forever.

With a deep breath, you focused on your laptop, determined to finish at least a paragraph of your essay before your break ended.

But, of course, Lee Heeseung had other plans.

Not even five minutes into your break, the door creaked open, and there he was, leaning casually against the doorframe with that infuriatingly smug grin on his face.

"Shouldn't you be up front?" you asked without looking up, your tone flat as you typed out another sentence.

“I am,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Just came to check on you. You know, make sure you’re not slacking off back here.”

You gave him a deadpan look, your hands hovering over the keyboard. “I’m the one slacking? You’re the one who left the counter unattended.”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving you off as he stepped further into the room. “There’s no one out there right now. Plus, I work better when I know my boss is doing okay.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your screen. “I’m fine. Now get back out there before someone walks in and thinks we don’t know what we’re doing.”

But instead of leaving, he sat down in the chair across from you, propping his chin on his hand as he watched you with a lazy smile.

“What are you working on?” he asked, nodding toward your laptop.

“Schoolwork,” you said shortly, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“Wow,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So hardworking. Do you ever take a break, or is that not a thing for you?”

“This is my break,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Which you’re currently ruining.”

He grinned, completely unfazed. “Come on, boss. You’ve gotta learn to relax a little. Life’s not all about essays and coffee orders.”

“It is when you’re trying to pass your classes and keep a job,” you retorted, taking a bite of your sandwich.

He let out a low hum, watching you with an intensity that made you feel like you were under a microscope. “You know,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting into something softer—almost teasing, “you look kinda cute like that.”

You froze mid-bite, your eyes snapping to his.

“What?” you said, your voice flat but your ears burning.

“Just saying,” he said with a shrug, his smile widening as if he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve got this little furrow in your brow when you’re focused. It’s cute.”

You stared at him for a moment, debating whether it was worth throwing your sandwich at his face.

“Heeseung,” you said finally, your voice low and warning.

“Yes, boss?”

“Get. Back. To. Work.”

He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender as he stood up. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Don’t miss me too much.”

You groaned as he sauntered out of the room, leaving you alone again—but not before tossing one last wink over his shoulder.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the door and wondering how you’d managed to get stuck with the most annoying coworker on the planet.

You tried to push Heeseung’s antics out of your mind, refocusing on your laptop. But it wasn’t as easy as you’d hoped. Every time you typed another sentence, your mind wandered back to the way he had called you cute. The audacity of him, the nerve—he just said whatever came to mind, didn’t he? Like there were no consequences.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. Heeseung was just being Heeseung—cocky, shameless, and way too full of himself. You weren’t going to let him get under your skin.

Another five minutes passed. Your essay was slowly taking shape, the sound of typing helped you settle into a groove. Finally, some peace and quiet.

But, of course, that didn’t last.

The door creaked open again, and you didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“Heeseung,” you said sharply, “if you’re not coming back here to tell me the cafe is on fire, I swear—”

“Relax,” he said, stepping into the room with a to-go cup in his hand. “Just thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

You glanced up, and sure enough, there he was, holding out a cup of coffee like it was some grand peace offering.

“What is this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Coffee,” he said, completely unbothered. “I made it myself. Thought you’d want a break from whatever sad sandwich you’ve been eating.”

You looked at the cup suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything weird in it, did you?”

“Wow,” he said, clutching his chest like you’d just insulted his honor. “No faith in me at all. That hurts, boss. Really.”

You rolled your eyes but took the cup anyway, cautiously bringing it to your lips. The coffee was… actually pretty good.

“Not bad,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Heeseung’s face lit up like you’d just handed him a gold medal. “See? I’m a fast learner. You might be stuck with me, but at least I’m good at what I do.”

“Barely,” you muttered, but your lips twitched upward despite yourself.

He pulled out the chair across from you again, sitting down with that same cocky grin.

“Don’t you have work to do?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“The front’s all clear,” he replied, leaning back in the chair. “And besides, I’d rather hang out here with you.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re strange, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a wink.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you turned back to your laptop. But even as you tried to focus, you couldn’t ignore the way he stayed there, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“So, there’s this party on Saturday,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence that had been hanging over the room for minutes, his tone easy but clearly fishing for something.

You paused mid-motion, glancing over at him. “A party?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up straight now and looking at you. “It’s at my friend Jay’s place. Big house, lots of people, good music… You should come.”

You blinked, surprised. Heeseung inviting you to a party wasn’t something you’d expected, especially since you weren`t close.

For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“What?” he asked with a small grin, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t like parties or something?”

“I didn’t say that,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I just wasn’t expecting you to invite me.”

“Why not?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his grin widening. “You’re cool. And besides, I figured you could use a break. You know, have some actual fun for once.”

You scoffed, about to reject him outright with a “Sorry, I’m busy,” but the words caught in your throat.

The truth was, you weren’t busy. Your weekend was looking painfully empty, and you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gone out for something other than groceries or school. You’d been drowning in assignments and deadlines for so long that the thought of getting out, even for just one night, sounded oddly tempting.

And besides, you’d heard about Jay. The guy was rich—practically loaded—and you knew his parties were worth it. You weren’t exactly a party animal, but a night with good music, decent booze (and not the cheap stuff from corner stores), and a chance to let loose didn’t sound half bad.

You leaned over the table, pretending to think it over, and caught the way Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours. He almost seemed… eager, like he was waiting on the edge of his seat for your answer. His gaze lingered just a second too long, and you noticed the way he leaned in slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.

Was he… entranced?

The thought made you pause for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright,” you said finally, sitting back in your chair. “I’ll go.”

His face lit up almost immediately, and you could tell he was trying to hide how pleased he was.

“Really?” he asked, his grin growing.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “Why not? I could use a night out.”

“Great,” he said, his excitement obvious. “You won’t regret it. Trust me, Jay throws the best parties. I’ll text you the details.”

“You don’t even have my number,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but took the phone anyway, typing in your number before handing it back to him.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

He grinned as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I won’t. Promise.”

The next few days passed in a blur and as much as you hated to admit it, Heeseung was actually learning everything pretty quickly. Sure, he still made the occasional mistake—like giving someone oat milk instead of almond milk—but those moments were fewer and farther between.

You had to give him credit: when he focused, he was good at what he did. The problem was getting him to focus.

Heeseung always found ways to make things interesting. Whether it was asking too many unnecessary questions just to mess with you or deliberately trying to get a reaction out of you with his relentless teasing, he kept you on your toes. And yet, he still managed to meet all the training goals you set for him, almost like he wanted to impress you.

Finally, by the end of the week, his training was officially done. He knew how to use the register, make all the drinks, handle pastries, and even clean up without leaving a mess behind. So, when the time came to hand him his permanent nametag, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment.

You stood behind the counter as Heeseung wiped down a table nearby.

“Hey,” you called out, catching his attention.

He turned toward you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, boss?”

You held up the shiny new nametag with his name etched on it in neat, bold letters: Heeseung.

“Congratulations,” you said, holding it out to him. “You’re officially not the assistant anymore.”

His eyes lit up when he saw it, and for a moment, you thought he looked almost… touched?

He took the nametag from your hand and stared at it like it was some kind of trophy. Then, with no hesitation, he ripped off the old “Assistant” nametag and tossed it on the counter.

“Finally,” he said, grinning as he hooked the new nametag onto his apron. “I was getting sick of being ‘Assistant.’”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Don’t let it go to your head. You’re still the newbie.”

He shot you a playful look. “Yeah, but now I’ve got my actual name. Feels good.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you teased. “You’re still not getting a promotion anytime soon.”

“Aw, come on,” he said, leaning against the counter with that familiar lazy grin. “You know I’ve been doing great. Admit it—you’re impressed.”

“I’ll admit you’ve survived training,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s about it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re tough to please, boss. But don’t worry—I’ll win you over eventually.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Get back to work, Heeseung,” you said, brushing past him to restock the pastry case.

But as you moved, you caught him staring at his nametag again, his grin still firmly in place.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you stood in front of your mirror, adjusting your outfit for the third—no, fourth—time. Your hair and makeup were done perfectly, your clothes hugged you in all the right places, and yet, you found yourself staring down at Heeseung’s message with a sense of hesitation.

Heeseung: Party starts at 8. Jay’s place. Don’t be late, boss

He’d attached the address below, followed by another string of teasing texts you hadn’t bothered to reply to.

You bit your lip, the urge to second-guess yourself creeping in. What were you even doing? Parties weren’t exactly your thing—not anymore, at least. You’d spent so much time lately focused on school and work that the thought of walking into a house full of strangers felt overwhelming.

Maybe you should cancel. You could just text Heeseung, say something came up, and spend the evening curled up with your laptop and a blanket instead. He’d probably roll his eyes, call you boring, and then leave you alone.

But then again, when was the last time you let yourself actually have fun? You couldn’t even remember the last time you went out, much less to a party. And besides, Heeseung had been so weirdly persistent about you coming. You could already picture his smug little grin when he saw you show up.

You shook your head at yourself, sighing.

“Get it together,” you muttered, turning back to the mirror.

You straightened your outfit, smoothing out any wrinkles and with one last glance at Heeseung’s message, you took a deep breath and grabbed your bag.

It was just a party. You’d go, stay for a little while, maybe have a drink or two, and then leave. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you locked your door and headed out.

When you arrived at Jay’s house, you weren’t surprised to find it exactly as you’d expected: massive, loud, and packed with people. Music thumped through the walls, and the glow of colorful lights spilled out through the windows and onto the front lawn.

Though the moment you stepped inside Jay’s house, the sheer size of the place struck you again. You’d been to a few big houses before, but this? This was something else entirely. The ceilings were impossibly high, the decor looked like it had been ripped straight out of a magazine, and the crowd of people packed into the house made it feel like a full-blown club instead of a casual get-together.

You maneuvered through the throng of people, recognizing a few faces here and there—some classmates, some mutual friends, and plenty of people you didn’t know. A few offered you quick smiles or waves, but most were too busy dancing, drinking, or talking loudly to notice you weaving through the chaos.

You found a massive coat rack—overflowing with jackets and bags—and hung yours up carefully before stepping back into the crowd. The noise was almost overwhelming, but you quickly found your footing, asking a couple of people nearby where the kitchen was.

“Down the hall, to the left!” one guy shouted over the music, pointing in the direction.

You nodded your thanks and headed that way, weaving through more bodies until you finally reached the kitchen.

And just like you’d predicted, it was a dream come true for any broke college student.

The massive kitchen island was completely covered in bottles of alcohol—every drink you could dream of—all the expensive brands that only the rich could casually stock up on without a second thought. There were mixers, fruit garnishes, pre-made cocktails, and even a blender shoved to one side.

Your eyes scanned the island, and you couldn’t help but smirk. Jay definitely wasn’t messing around.

You made your way to the fridge, pulling it open to find even more options stacked neatly inside. After a moment of deliberation, you grabbed a cold bottle and popped the cap off with a satisfying snap.

You tossed the cap into the trash, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a long sip. The sweet taste was like heaven, and you couldn’t help but hum in satisfaction.

“Enjoying yourself already?”

The familiar voice came from behind you, and you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Heeseung.

Of course.

You sighed, lowering the bottle and glancing over your shoulder to see him leaning against the doorway with that same lazy grin he always wore. He looked effortlessly good, as usual, in a casual black button-up and jeans that fit him a little too well. His dark hair was slightly tousled, like he hadn’t bothered trying too hard—but somehow, that only made him look better.

“Didn’t expect to see you here already,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling over to you.

“Didn’t expect you to find me so fast,” you shot back, taking another sip from your bottle.

“What can I say?” he teased, grabbing a random bottle from the island and inspecting it. “I’ve got good instincts.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother responding, instead focusing on your drink.

Heeseung unscrewed the cap of his bottle, taking a swig before leaning against the counter beside you. “So,” he started, glancing at you with a sly smile, “what do you think? Not bad, huh?”

You gestured vaguely around the kitchen. “It’s… a lot.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Jay doesn’t do anything halfway. Wait until you see the backyard. He rented a whole fire pit setup and some fancy outdoor lights. It’s insane.”

“Of course he did,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Heeseung tilted his head, watching you closely. “Not a party person, huh?”

“Not at the moment,” you admitted, taking another sip. “But… I figured I could use a break.”

Heeseung’s smile softened, just slightly. “Well, you came to the right place. Trust me, by the end of the night, you’re gonna be glad you showed up.”

“Confident, aren’t you?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, raising his bottle in a mock toast. “Always.”

You clinked your bottle lightly against his, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

Heeseung downed the rest of his drink, then nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, boss,” he said, flashing you his trademark grin. “I gotta introduce you to the crew.”

“Your crew?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, my friends,” he clarified, already motioning for you to follow him. “Don’t worry, they’re cool. You’ll like them.”

You trailed after him through the crowded house, sidestepping groups of people until you reached a section of the living room where a group of guys stood huddled, laughing over something you couldn’t hear over the music.

“Yo!” Heeseung called out, catching their attention.

The group turned to look, and almost instantly, they greeted Heeseung with wide grins and casual fist bumps. Then their attention shifted to you, curious but friendly.

“This is my boss,” Heeseung announced, slinging an arm over your shoulder with no warning. “You know, the one who’s been making me work my ass off all week?”

You stiffened under his arm, giving him a pointed look, but he didn’t seem to care.

The group laughed, and one of them—a guy with bleached hair and an easygoing vibe—stepped forward. “Ah, so you’re the one Heeseung’s been talking about nonstop,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Sunoo. Nice to meet you.”

You hesitated for a second, then shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

The rest of the group followed suit, introducing themselves as Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon.

As they started chatting, you found yourself relaxing a little. They were cool, just like Heeseung said. You even caught yourself laughing at a few of their jokes.

But after a while, you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. The noise and energy of the party were starting to catch up to you, and you figured a quick breather would help.

But by the time you came back, though, the group had completely disappeared.

You frowned, glancing around the living room. Nothing. No Heeseung, no Sunoo, no one you recognized. Shrugging, you decided not to overthink it. Maybe they’d moved to another part of the house.

Instead, you headed back to the kitchen, grabbing another drink from the fridge. This time, you opted for something stronger, figuring you might as well enjoy yourself while you were here.

With the bottle in hand, you made your way to the main area where most people were dancing. Leaning against the wall, you watched the crowd sway and move to the heavy beat of the music.

But then someone approached you.

“Hey,” a guy’s voice said, drawing your attention.

You turned to see a soft-looking guy with an easy smile standing next to you. His energy felt entirely different from the usual partygoers—calmer, more approachable.

“Hi,” you replied, tilting your head slightly.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, offering you his hand. “I’m Shotaro.”

You shook his hand, noting how friendly his smile was. “Nice to meet you, Shotaro. I’m—”

“—Heeseung’s boss, right?” he finished for you, grinning.

You blinked in surprise. “Uh, yeah. How did you know that?”

“Heeseung’s been talking about you,” he said casually, leaning against the wall beside you.

You felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite place. “I see.”

“So,” Shotaro continued, taking a sip from his drink. “How’s it been, working with Heeseung? He’s not causing too much trouble, is he?”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh, he’s definitely trouble. But he’s not… terrible.”

Shotaro chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “That sounds about right. Heeseung’s kind of a handful, but he’s a good guy.”

“Is that your way of warning me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Shotaro said quickly, his tone light and playful. “Just… preparing you for what you’ve probably already figured out.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself enjoying his company. But out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the room, watching.

Heeseung.

His expression was unreadable, but the way his eyes stayed locked on you made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that crept over you, focusing back on Shotaro’s words. He was still talking, casually, but your attention kept drifting. Your eyes flicked back to Heeseung, who hadn’t moved, still standing in the same spot with his gaze fixed on you.

There was something about the way he was looking at you—intense, but not quite… angry? Maybe it was something else entirely. You couldn’t tell. It wasn’t a look you were used to seeing from him, especially not with the easygoing vibe he’d always had around you.

You couldn’t look away. Not at first, at least.

Shotaro noticed your distraction, following your line of sight and smiling knowingly. “I think he’s waiting for you,” he said, his tone light but laced with something that you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from Heeseung. “What?” you asked, momentarily disoriented.

“I said,” Shotaro continued with a slight grin, “I think your friend is waiting for you.”

You could feel your cheeks warming slightly. "He’s not—"

But before you could finish, Shotaro waved a hand dismissively. “No need to explain. It’s pretty obvious.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a tangled mess now, and whatever you’d planned to say evaporated when you saw Heeseung take a few steps toward you.

Shotaro noticed the change too and gave you a sly smile. “I’ll let you handle that.”

You barely had time to react before Heeseung was standing in front of you, his posture still casual but something about his energy shifted the moment he stood near you.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little more self-aware. “What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Heeseung didn’t immediately answer, instead studying you for a moment as if he was trying to figure something out. His eyes flicked over to Shotaro, who had already started talking to someone else close by.

“I thought you were having fun,” Heeseung finally said, his tone softer than usual.

“I am,” you replied, a little defensively, but the way he looked at you made the words feel like they didn’t hold much weight.

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “You know, you don’t have to be so uptight. Relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?”

His closeness made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you took a small step back, instinctively trying to put a little more space between you. “I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just getting a drink and talking to people.”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened, but it was subtle, like a flicker of something deeper, something that was just below the surface. You tried to ignore the sudden heat building in your chest. “I’m sure you’re having a great time,” he replied, his voice low but just loud enough to make you question if there was something more to his words.

You shifted, glancing around the room again, feeling uneasy under his intense gaze.

“So,” you began, trying to change the subject, “how’s your night going?”

Heeseung shrugged, not answering immediately. Then he flashed that signature smirk of his, though it looked a little more forced this time. “Better now that you’re sticking around.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, half-amused and half-annoyed. "Yeah, sure."

He stepped a little closer, almost uncomfortably so. "You should stick with me tonight," he said, as if it were a casual suggestion, but there was something to his voice that made it feel like an order.

“Maybe later,” you replied, forcing yourself to stay casual even as you felt the pressure of his proximity.

But Heeseung didn’t move away. Instead, he held your gaze for a long moment. “I’ll be waiting.”

Before you could react, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there.

You stood there for a moment, trying to shake off the feeling, you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a minute, maybe something a little stronger to clear your head. The noise of the party faded as you opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for something that might do the trick.

You reached for a bottle of something dark and smooth—whiskey, you thought, perfect. The cap twisted off easily, and without hesitating, you brought the bottle to your lips, taking a deep swig. The burn was immediate, scorching your throat, but you welcomed it. The heat spread through your chest, distracting you from the confusion still swirling in your mind.

You winced slightly at the strong taste, but it didn’t bother you as much as it should have. In fact, you felt a little relieved.

With the bottle still in your hand, you moved to the counter, leaning against it as you wiped your hand across your forehead, pushing your hair back from your face.

Was Heeseung always like this? So… forward?

And why did it bother you so much?

You stood there in the bathroom, leaning over the sink as you splashed cold water on your face. The bitterness of the drinks still lingered in your mouth, and you couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. You rubbed your lips together, trying to rid yourself of the aftertaste, all the while trying to steady your breath. The last thing you needed was to get sick and ruin the night.

Just as you finished wiping your mouth with a tissue, you heard knocks on the door.

“Give me a minute,” you shouted, your voice a little tighter than you intended as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were trying to compose yourself, trying to act like everything was fine, even though you were sure it wasn’t.

You grabbed your lipstick from your bag, carefully applying it to your lips. Then, before you could finish, the door suddenly swung open, and you froze.

Standing in the doorway was Heeseung, his expression unreadable as he stepped inside, blocking the exit with his body. You blinked, unable to mask your shock.

“Heeseung—”

He didn’t let you finish. Without a word, he closed and locked the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the small, quiet room.

Your heart raced, and you instinctively took a step back, eyes widening as you tried to process the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you’d intended.

Heeseung didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning your face as if he was taking his time to study you. The playful smile that was usually on his lips was gone, replaced by something more serious, more intense. He took a slow step toward you, and you instinctively stepped back, your back hitting the sink with a small jolt.

“You’re avoiding me,” he finally said, his tone low and steady.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you protested, though even you could tell it didn’t sound convincing.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. “Then why are you not beside me?”

You swallowed, the heat of his gaze making you feel trapped in the small space. “I am—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice soft but insistent. “I know what you’re doing.”

Your chest tightened as the distance between you grew smaller. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his proximity—how your breath caught in your throat, how your pulse quickened.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to break the tension, but Heeseung cut you off. “I’ve been waiting for you to stop running from me, to give in and see,” he said, his voice smooth. “And I’m not going to let you get away tonight.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and the world around you seemed to narrow down to just Heeseung, his gaze never leaving yours.

Your mind was racing, thoughts scattered in every direction as Heeseung closed the distance between you. His bottle was placed carelessly on the counter behind you, the sound of glass clinking against porcelain barely reaching your ears over the pounding of your heartbeat. His eyes never wavered from yours, as he leaned down, his arms caging you in against the sink.

You couldn’t help but look down at his lips. They were so close—too close—and you felt the pull toward them. Was it the alcohol clouding your thoughts? Or was it simply him?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the bathroom suddenly felt unbearably hot.

Your mind screamed to pull away, to stop this before it went any further, but your body betrayed you. The space between you closed completely, and before you could say anything—or even fully register what was happening—Heeseung kissed you.

It was fast, surprising, and far more urgent than you expected. His lips were warm against yours, and for a split second, you froze. The kiss was deep, his hand coming to rest beside your face, his thumb brushing against your jaw. You could feel the force of his kiss, the way he was pulling you into him, and something inside you stirred.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of his kiss, the way it made your heart race.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away slightly, his lips hovering just above yours. His eyes were hungry—more intense than you had ever seen them before.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmured, his voice low, almost like a warning. His lips brushed against yours again, a fleeting touch that made your stomach twist. "I know what you’re thinking."

You swallowed, your mind a blur as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. But the only thing you could focus on was him.

Heeseung didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, his fingers brushed against your skin, tracing a path down your neck as he moved to kiss you again, more slowly this time, as if savoring the moment.

And despite everything inside you telling you to stop—to pull away and think—you couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

Your hands instinctively moved to his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back, the feel of his lips against yours made everything inside you tighten. The kiss deepened, and that was when you felt him shift, his hands slipping under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly off the ground. The action caught you off guard for a moment, but you didn’t have time to process it before he set you down on the counter, careful to avoid the sink.

His body moved in between your legs, and you instinctively parted them to make room for him, while his hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing the curve of your waist.

At that moment everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. But instead of pulling away, you found yourself leaning closer to him, your hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, desperate for more contact.

There was no going back now, no hesitation.

The only thing that mattered was the way his body pressed against yours, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You weren’t quite sure who was losing control more: him or you.

Your hands, naturally, found their way to his biceps, grasping tightly as if to anchor yourself.

Heeseung's kisses became more intense, his tongue dancing with yours, and you could feel his hands, warm and strong, as they slowly made their way under your shirt.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his hands on your skin. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, a delightful sensation.

As Heeseung's hands continued their journey, his moan escaped his lips, a low sound which sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn't help but grip his biceps tighter, your nails slightly digging into his skin.

Heeseung's moan turned into a growl as he felt your response. With a sudden movement, he ripped off his shirt, a few of the buttons flying in all directions.

The sight of Heeseung's bare chest took your breath away. His muscles, defined and strong, glistened with a slight sheen of sweat.

As Heeseung's shirt fell to the ground, he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours. His hands, now free, roamed over your back, tracing the curve of your spine, and then down to your waist, where he gently squeezed.

Heeseung's lips left yours for a moment, only to trail kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. You let out a soft whine, your body arching into his touch, inviting him to continue.

Heeseung's hands, slowly and deliberately pulled up your shirt, gently sliding the garment off your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a subtle smile, Heeseung slung your shirt over his shoulder, his hands, now free to explore, slipped up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You leaned back against the mirror, your legs parted slightly as Heeseung's hands continued their journey, their grip tightening as they reached the top of your thighs.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at Heeseung, his chest, still heaving from the intensity of the kiss, rose and fell with each breath. You could feel his fingers trace the curves, his thumbs gently massaging.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I could look at you forever."

"I could say the same about you," you replied, your voice soft. "Every inch of you is perfection."

Heeseung's lips twitched into a soft smile. "Don't say that unless you mean it," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost unsure.

You tilted your head slightly, your hands looped loosely around his neck. "I do mean it," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. "Every word."

For a moment, Heeseung didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. His grip on your waist tightened slightly.

"You have no idea what you’re doing to me," he said finally, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the words weren’t meant for anyone else but you.

Your lips parted, unsure of how to respond. But before you could say anything, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was softer this time, slower, as if he was savoring every second.

His hands slid up to cradle your face, his touch gentle, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. The way he kissed you made your head spin, every thought slipping away until all you could feel was him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, both of you breathing heavily. "I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you," he admitted.

You breathed out shakily, leaning forward to kiss him again, unable to resist. Heeseung groaned softly against your mouth, his hands tightening around your waist as if he never wanted to let go.

But the sudden, rapid knocking on the bathroom door shattered the moment like glass. "Come on, man! Some of us need to pee!" someone shouted, their voice muffled but impatient.

You both froze, and then, as if in sync, you both pulled back with a wet sound, the abrupt loss of contact leaving you cold. You quickly slid off the sink, your legs shaky as you adjusted your balance. Heeseung stepped back to give you space, his lips slightly swollen, his hair tousled from your hands.

You grabbed your shirt from where it had been discarded and slipped it back on with trembling fingers, avoiding his gaze as your heart pounded in your chest. Heeseung, meanwhile, reached for his own shirt, pulling it on hastily as the knocking grew louder.

"You guys gonna stay in there all night?" a different voice called, followed by a round of laughter from the hallway.

Your face burned as you yanked open the door, not sparing a glance at the group of people gathered outside, their expressions ranging from amused to curious. Shouldering past them, you strode down the hallway and out into the main area of the party, your breath still uneven, your mind racing.

You didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around to see if Heeseung was following. The music felt too loud, the crowd too suffocating, and you needed air. Pushing past the groups of people dancing and talking, you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting it open with shaking hands.

Taking a long sip, you leaned against the counter, trying to calm the chaotic mess of emotions swirling inside you. What had just happened? One minute, you were at a party, trying to have a good time, and the next…

"Hey," a familiar voice said softly, and you stiffened.

Turning slowly, you saw Heeseung standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his expression unreadable. His shirt was wrinkled, his lips still slightly parted as if he’d run after you but didn’t know what to say now that he’d found you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tentative, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge how you were feeling.

You let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair. "I… I don’t know," you admitted, your voice quieter than you expected. "I just needed a second to breathe."

Heeseung nodded, stepping further into the room but keeping a careful distance, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you. "I’m sorry if that was… too much," he said, his voice soft, almost apologetic. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Don’t apologize," you interrupted, surprising both of you with the firmness in your tone. "It wasn’t just you, Heeseung."

Your words seemed to relax him slightly, his shoulders easing as he took another cautious step closer. "Still," he said, his lips quirking into a faint smile, "next time, maybe we pick a place with fewer interruptions."

His playful tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Next time?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

Heeseung grinned, his confidence creeping back as he leaned closer. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that."

You froze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as Heeseung stood right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His grin softened into something more intense as he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly under your jaw, tilting your head up so your eyes met his.

“Why so quiet now?” he teased softly, his voice dipping lower, his lips just a whisper away from yours. “You’re usually so good with comebacks.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Heeseung’s gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could think or speak, he leaned in, so close your noses brushed. “You drive me so crazy,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the thump of the music in the other room.

And before you could react, his lips were on yours again, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

It was different this time—not hurried or rushed like before, but deliberate, as if he wanted to make you feel every second of it. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as he kissed you, and your body responded almost instinctively.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, your head spinning. Heeseung let out a low hum of satisfaction, the sound vibrating against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his other hand settling on your waist.

You barely registered the cool surface of the kitchen counter pressing against your lower back as he guided you gently but firmly against it, his body close enough to make you feel like you were burning up from the inside out.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to catch his breath, his lips hovered near yours, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. “See?” he whispered, his voice rough and uneven. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so instead, you reached up and pulled him back down into another kiss, your answer clear in the way your lips moved against his.

Heeseung chuckled softly against your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening like he didn’t want to let you go.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice reminded you where you were, what you were doing, and how very public this all was. Reluctantly, you broke the kiss, your breathing ragged as you pushed lightly against his chest.

“Heeseung,” you started, your voice shaky, “we’re in the middle of the kitchen. Anyone could walk in.”

Heeseung smirked, clearly unbothered, as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Let them,” he said, his voice low and full of mischief. “Maybe they’ll finally understand that you’re mine.”

Before you could even form a response, Heeseung’s lips crashed into yours again, more desperate this time, as though he couldn’t stand the idea of even a few seconds without kissing you. His hands cupped your face, holding you firmly in place.

Your protests—if there had been any—dissolved almost instantly, and all you could do was cling to him, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as his body pressed closer to yours.

You felt his hands slide down from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that you were there, that this wasn’t just some dream.

“Heeseung—” you tried to say, breaking the kiss briefly to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you get far.

“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, as if he was barely holding himself together. “Just… don’t. Please.”

Before you could think, his lips were on yours again, and this time it was slower but no less intense. His hands tightened on your waist, grounding you, and you found yourself sinking further into him.

You didn’t even notice the kitchen had gone quiet until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through the haze.

Your eyes flew open, and Heeseung reluctantly pulled back, his breathing heavy as he turned toward the source of the interruption. Standing in the doorway was Jay, a drink in his hand and an amused smirk plastered across his face.

“Should I come back later?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

Your face burned with embarrassment as you quickly pushed Heeseung away, smoothing your clothes and trying to look like you hadn’t just been thoroughly kissed. Heeseung, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.

“Not at all,” Heeseung replied smoothly, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened. But the slight curve of his lips told you he was very aware of what just happened—and that he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest.

Jay chuckled, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen. “Well, don’t let me stop you two. Just don’t break anything, yeah? I’d rather not explain that to my parents.”

You shot Jay a glare, but he just grinned and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving you alone with Heeseung again.

As soon as Jay was gone, you turned to Heeseung, narrowing your eyes at him. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Heeseung just shrugged, his smirk widening. “Not when it comes to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand. “Let’s get out of here. I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you let him take your hand, curiosity and excitement bubbling in your chest as he led you out of the kitchen.

Heeseung led you up the stairs, his hand firmly wrapped around yours as he maneuvered through the crowded hallway. The music downstairs grew fainter with every step, fading away until it was just the two of you at the end of a dimly lit corridor.

He stopped in front of a door, glancing back at you with a small smile before turning the handle and pulling you inside. The room was quiet, smelling faintly of cologne and freshly washed sheets, and you barely had a moment to take it all in before Heeseung closed the door and locked it with a soft click.

When he turned back to you, his eyes were darker, filled with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He didn’t say anything as he took a step closer, and then another, until there was barely any space left between you.

“Heeseung—” you started, your voice a mix of hesitation and anticipation, but he silenced you with a kiss.

His lips were on yours in an instant, firm and unrelenting, as if he’d been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t wait any longer. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fervently. It was like he had unlocked something inside you, something that craved the way he made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

Heeseung broke the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

His words made your heart race, and before you could even process them, his lips trailing down to your jaw and to the curve of your neck, his movements slow, like he was savoring every inch of your skin. The soft warmth of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, but it wasn’t until you felt him suck lightly at a tender spot just beneath your ear that you gasped, your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair.

Heeseung hummed in satisfaction at your reaction, the sound vibrating against your neck. His hands gripped your waist firmly, keeping you steady as his lips latched onto your skin, sucking just enough to leave a mark. You couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

Your grip on his hair tightened, pulling slightly, and he groaned against your neck, the sound low and raspy. “Do that again,” he muttered, his voice husky.

You tugged again, this time more intentionally, and he responded by nipping gently at your skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. His lips trailed lower, finding another spot on your neck to mark.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out, your voice trembling as he continued his assault on your neck, leaving a trail of small, dark marks in his wake. You could feel the way his breathing grew heavier.

“Say my name again,” he murmured against your skin, his voice full of need.

You tugged on his hair once more, tilting your head back to give him better access, and whispered his name again, this time softer, more breathless.

He pulled back for a moment, his lips glistening, his eyes heavy-lidded as they met yours. His gaze dropped to the marks on your neck, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Perfect,” he muttered, brushing his thumb over one of the fresh hickeys. “Now everyone’s going to know you’re mine.”

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, rousing you from your sleep. You blinked groggily, taking in the unfamiliar room for a moment before the events of the previous night came rushing back to you.

Your body felt heavy, weighed down by something—or rather, someone. Turning your head slightly, you froze as you saw Heeseung sleeping behind you, his face peaceful, lips slightly parted, and his arm draped securely around your waist like he was afraid to let go even in his sleep.

Your eyes widened, and your heart started racing. Oh no. This can’t be happening.

You carefully reached down, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, and began to lift his arm off you. It was slow, nerve-wracking work, but as soon as you managed to free yourself, Heeseung let out a soft whine, shifting closer to where you’d been lying.

Panic flooded your veins as he reached out in his sleep, clearly searching for you. Without thinking, you grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and gently tucked it in your place. He relaxed immediately, his arms wrapping around the pillow as he snuggled closer to it, his breathing evening out again.

You released a quiet sigh of relief, grabbing your scattered belongings from the floor. You didn’t even bother putting the heels on, instead clutching them tightly in your hand as you made your way to the door, tiptoeing as quietly as possible.

The hallway was eerily silent compared to the chaos of last night. When you reached the staircase and descended into the main living area, the faint sound of movement caught your attention.

Jay stood near the kitchen island, tossing empty bottles into a garbage bag. He looked up when he heard you approach, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “Morning,” he greeted, his tone light and teasing. “Sneaking out?”

You hesitated, your cheeks burning as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “I’m just… heading out,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Jay leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t think you’d still be here, honestly. Heeseung seemed pretty determined last night, though.”

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you quickly waved him off. “It’s not what it looks like,” you said, although even you didn’t sound convincing.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Right. Whatever you say.” He didn’t push any further, thankfully, instead returning to his cleaning.

You hurried toward the door, slipping out before anyone else could see you. As soon as you were outside, the crisp morning air hit your face, and you let out a shaky breath.

What the hell just happened?

You ignored the buzzing of your phone as Heeseung’s name lit up the screen again and again. Calls, texts, and even voice messages you refused to listen to—all of them went unanswered. You couldn’t deal with him right now, not after everything that had happened.

Luckily, it was Sunday, and you had no responsibilities to worry about. After taking a long, scalding shower to clear your head, you threw on your comfiest pajamas and climbed back into bed.

You tried to distract yourself with movies, mindlessly scrolling through streaming apps until you settled on something you’d seen a dozen times before. A large bag of chips sat open next to you, along with a collection of candy wrappers and an empty soda can. It was the perfect lazy day setup, except for one problem—you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

No matter how hard you tried to focus on the movie, your mind kept drifting back to Heeseung.

You groaned, shoving your face into a pillow in frustration. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? Heeseung was trouble, plain and simple. You’d known that from the start, and yet you let yourself get swept up in him anyway.

Your phone buzzed again on the nightstand, and for a moment, you considered throwing it across the room. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached for it, unlocking the screen to see yet another text from Heeseung.

Heeseung: I know you’re ignoring me, but can we talk? Please?

You sighed, locking your phone again and tossing it aside. You didn’t know what he wanted to say, but you weren’t ready to hear it.

Instead, you burrowed deeper into your blankets, determined to get through the rest of the day without letting him take over your thoughts again. But no matter how many movies you watched, or how much junk food you ate, the memory of him lingered like a stubborn shadow, refusing to be ignored.

So when Monday rolled around, you made it your mission to avoid Heeseung at all costs. You checked the cafe schedule first thing in the morning and made sure your shifts didn’t overlap with his, swapping one with a coworker to make sure you wouldn’t have to see him.

On campus, you were extra careful, keeping your head low and staying alert as you navigated between classes. You stuck to the edges of crowded hallways, dodging places you knew he might linger. Every time you rounded a corner, your stomach tensed, half-expecting to see him standing there, waiting for you.

It wasn’t easy. You’d catch glimpses of him now and then, whether it was through a classroom window or across the quad, but you always made sure to duck out of sight before he noticed you. You couldn’t risk talking to him—not yet.

By the time your shift at the cafe rolled around on Wednsday, you were already exhausted from the mental effort of dodging him. Walking through the door, you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you realized it was just you and a coworker, Jisoo, working the evening shift.

But the relief didn’t last long. Midway through your shift, while you were wiping down the counters, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a customer. Without looking up, you called out your usual greeting.

“Welcome! How can I can help—”

The words died in your throat when you glanced up and saw Heeseung standing there, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

He was dressed casually, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and he looked like he hadn’t slept well. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hand through it a dozen times.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but firm as he took a step closer to the counter.

You froze, your rag still in your hand, unsure of what to do. Jisoo was busy stocking pastries in the display case and didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in the air.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out a little shaky.

“I came to talk to you,” Heeseung replied, his tone calm but insistent. “You’ve been ignoring me, and I don’t like it.”

Your grip tightened on the rag, your mind racing for an excuse, a way out of this conversation. “I’ve been busy,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “School, work... you know how it is.”

Heeseung didn’t budge. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, leaning on the counter slightly. “But I also know when someone’s avoiding me.”

You glanced nervously at Jisoo, who was still oblivious, then back at Heeseung. “This isn’t the time or place for this,” you hissed under your breath.

“Then when is?” he shot back, his voice low but sharp. “Because I don’t think you’ll give me the chance if I don’t force it.”

The determination in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. But before you could respond, Jisoo turned around, finally noticing Heeseung.

“Hey, Heeseung!” she greeted cheerfully. “You’re not working today, are you?”

“No, just stopping by,” he said smoothly, his gaze never leaving yours.

Jisoo shrugged and went back to her task, leaving you alone with him once again.

“Please,” Heeseung said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You huffed, feeling cornered with no way out, and agreed to his request, deciding that five minutes would be better than dealing with him here in front of Jisoo. The tension in the air thickened as you both moved to the back of the cafe. Heeseung’s presence loomed behind you, his silence heavy as he followed you through the narrow hallway.

Once the door to the backroom shut, you leaned against the counter, trying to gather your thoughts, but Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to breathe.

“Why did you leave so early that night?” His voice was steady, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. “Why are you ignoring me now?”

You swallowed hard, pushing aside the thoughts of the night before. It was a mistake, you told yourself. A moment of weakness. You needed to stay firm.

“It was a mistake,” you finally said, your voice coming out a little softer than you meant. “One-time thing. It won’t happen again, Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything at first, his expression unreadable. Then he took a step closer, and then another, until you were pressed up against the wall. You tried to breathe steadily, but your heart was racing now.

“Is that how you really feel?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, eyes locked onto yours. “Do you really think it was a mistake?”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. You flinched for just a moment, but the warmth of his touch pulled you in, and you could feel his soft exhale against your mouth.

You tried to push him back, to remind yourself of the resolve you’d spent all day building, but his hands were on you, pulling you closer, and despite everything, you felt the tension in your body break. Slowly, hesitantly, you kissed him back.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself losing control of your thoughts, of everything you’d promised yourself just minutes ago. It was impossible to think straight when he was this close, his hands gentle but insistent, his lips insatiable.

Heeseung broke away for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted for breath. “You don’t have to keep pretending,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do.”

You tried to argue back, to remind yourself that this was wrong, that it couldn’t happen again, but Heeseung wasn’t giving you a chance. His lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss, silencing any protest you might have had. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips again but then his attention dropped lower.

You couldn’t help but gasp when his lips brushed against your neck, gently revealing the marks from the night before. His fingers trailed up your skin as he pressed his lips against the sensitive spot on your collarbone. You felt a rush of heat flood through you, making it harder to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel.

His lips moved with purpose, leaving a trail of fresh hickeys on your skin, each one more darker than the last. You gripped his shirt, the fabric twisting beneath your fingers as you tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was slipping away.

"How could this be a mistake when it feels this good?" Heeseung murmured between each kiss, his voice husky. "You don’t have to lie to yourself. I know you want this just as much as I do."

With every word, every kiss, your resolve weakened, until you couldn’t remember why you wanted to fight this in the first place. The way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive. You wanted him, and there was no denying it anymore.

“This isn’t just a one-time thing, not for me,” he murmured as he kissed his way back up to your lips. "I’m what you need," he said quietly, his eyes locked onto yours with an almost pleading look. "I’ll give you what you need—what you’ve been craving, even if you don’t realize it yet."

You opened your mouth to argue back, to remind him that you weren’t looking for this, but your words caught in your throat as he suddenly knelt down in front of you.

You gasped, the shift in position catching you off guard. His hands moved quickly to grip your waist, his touch firm yet gentle, as he looked up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before.

"I’m not asking for anything from you," he whispered, his voice laced with a quiet desperation. "I just want to be what you need. Please, don’t push me away. Let me give you what I know you want."

He leaned in closer, just enough to close the distance between you, but he didn’t move further. Instead, he let his head rest gently against your legs, his hands still holding you steady, waiting for your response.

His voice softened. "I’ll be patient. But please… don’t push me away again."

He was begging you, and the intensity of his words seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.

"I can be good for you," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "No one else will make you feel like I can. No one else understands you the way I do. I promise, I’ll treat you right, I’ll give you everything you need. Just let me."

You could feel his hands tighten ever so slightly on your waist, his desperation evident. "I’ll make you happy. I know I can."

His words were persuasive, yet you remained uncertain. Was this what you really needed? What you really wanted?

Heeseung must have seen the conflict in your eyes because he softened even more, lowering his voice as if speaking to your heart. "I’m not trying to force you into anything. I just want you to know that I care about you… more than anyone else could. Please, just trust me."

For a moment, all you could do was stand there, trying to process his words. His eyes searched yours, full of hope, waiting for you to say something, anything.

Eventually you let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of the decision settling on your shoulders. After a moment of silence, you met Heeseung's gaze. "Alright," you murmured, your voice almost a whisper. "I’ll give you a chance."

Heeseung's eyes lit up instantly, the tension in his body melting away as a smile broke out across his face. Without warning, he stood up, his hands reaching to cup your face gently as he leaned in. His lips pressed against your forehead first, then, he kissed your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips. Each kiss was quick but filled with so much happiness and relief, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"I’m what you need," he mumbled against your skin.

What you need.

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toxicmalysh · 6 days ago

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Are you listening Detka?

Wanda X female reader

Word count: 1k+

Summary: established relationship, Wanda is the CEO of her company and has to travel from time to time, whilst calling your attentive girlfriend things take a turn

Warnings: masturbation (R and W), slight degrading, mentions of breeding if you squint, that's pretty much it

✧⋆✦⋆✧

Your girlfriend being the head of her company had its perks, she spoiled you, rotten, anything you even paid more than 5 seconds of attention to she'd buy it for you. Going abroad to sight see, spending time in beautiful villas and beaches. Driving you around in expensive cars with that clean smell. Dates in exclusive restaurants drinking wine you couldn't afford even if you worked for months. It was a lush lifestyle you never imagined until you bumped into the curious woman at your local cafe a few years ago.

However, her job also had its cons, specifically her need to travel from time to time. The job was demanding, having to go to different sites was one of them. It wasn't often but when it was it was for a few weeks at a time leaving you lonely in your shared bed, missing her comfort dearly.

The time difference wasn't much, leaving you a few hours ahead, and she called routinely in her evenings after countless meetings. Usually you'd talk about her day, useless staff not handling her instructions, or your day and how your part time job was going. Tonight however, you were missing one of her features in particular, her ability to make you feel good. You were craving her touch.

"it was an absolute nightmare, I kept telling him he needed to format the spreadsheets before printing them because of the pdf conversion but he just wasn't getting it."

Wanda's voice was smooth through the phone speaker, her subtle accent normally mesmerized you, but there was a slight hoarseness from how tired she was. The usually raspy tone she'd take with you when telling you to spread your legs or lay still.

Your thighs were mindlessly rubbing together, as you found yourself fidgeting to suppress the ache between your legs as your girlfriend spoke. You cleared your throat before attempting to respond.

"haven't you already explained that to him the last time you saw him?"

You listened to the slight groan from the other side, more lewd thoughts filtering into your mind and the idea of how she was usually under you when making that sort of noise.

"I did yeah,"

She took a sharp breath before continuing, you wanted to pay attention, but the throbbing was unbearable and the thought of Wanda next to you stroking your thighs wasn't leaving your head anytime soon.

You shuffled around, humming along to what Wanda was saying, focusing on removing your pyjama bottoms and panties.

"and he tried to argue that he hadn't had this issue before, but he absolutely did because I have told him so many times the graph gets cut off on the right hand side,"

Your focus was faulty, your hand gliding over your right breast slowly, pinching ever so gently over your nipple, all you could process was the cracking of her accent and the wetness spreading across the skin of your thighs.

You rolled your nipple a few times before placing your phone on speaker, onto your nightstand, tracing slow lines down your abdomen before your mound. You needed Wanda so badly, shutting your eyes imagining her hands on your skin.

You pick up specific words coming from Wanda's rant, "dumb" "choke" "so well" "for me" "go on", those few words usually used in a context of punishment or pleasure with you.

Your head was fuzzy, imagining Wanda's fingers gliding up your soaking folds, warm and sensitive from the neediness of the situation. You hummed in response to Wanda's sentences whenever she paused for more than two seconds.

"Are you okay?"

The question snapped you out of your trance for a moment, your fingers freezing, and you began composing yourself to answer,

"Yeah Wands," you were more breathless than you realised, "yeah just keep talking."

"okay darling, well," she paused to remember where she was, your fingers rising to rub tight circles on your clit, "after all of that she finally agreed that,"

Warm, you felt so warm, your chest rising quickly, your fingers moving faster, you weren't even aware of how heavy your breathing had gotten over the phone.

"Are you listening detka?"

Wanda's voice wasn't irritated, but rather low and curious, you began nodding before answering, gulping as you hummed in response not trusting your own words.

There was a few moments of silence before Wanda spoke again,

"let me hear how wet you are."

Your eyes rolled and you let out an audible whine at her words. Usually you'd be humiliated with how she knew what you were doing, embarrassed that you couldn't control yourself around her, but with how close you already were and how badly you needed her, you slid your fingers slowly into your pulsing hole before finding a rougher rhythm.

Wanda could hear your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds echoing through the phone. She reached for her own pyjamas, pulling them down before placing her phone on speaker matching you.

“Do you miss me that much sweetheart? Need my touch that badly?”

You whined down the line, your fingers moving faster inside yourself, you were nodding quickly, even though Wanda couldn't see, she knew you were, she knew you were answering like the good girl you were. You could feel yourself throbbing around your digits, feeling slightly unsatisfied knowing it wasn't Wanda's slender fingers filling you up.

“Tell me, what would you want if I was there detka?”

You hummed softly, pulling your fingers from your pussy and onto your clit, making faster circles than before, needing a release.

“I.. I would want you to be rough, make sure I knew you still needed to touch my body, feel my pussy around your fingers.”

Wanda's hand found her own clit, groping her breast firmly as she breathed out, imaging you squirming beneath her, crying for anything,

“What about my strap hm? Would you want me to fill that pretty cunt of yours?”

Her voice was broken and your eyes rolled at the idea, suddenly feeling empty with just your hand to pleasure yourself. You cried out as you pushed two fingers back into yourself, curling them the same way Wanda would.

“Please, please I need your cock.”

Your voice was dripping with impatience and neediness, Wanda knew you were close, and the moans that were falling from your lips were pushing her faster to her own climax. She could imagine the way your pussy would throb around her strap, sucking her in deeper as you twitched in pleasure from such strong orgasms.

“I miss you so much.”

Wanda let out an unholy whine at your words, squeezing her eyes as she focused on the sounds of your fingers squelching in your heat. She felt the familiar coil in her abdomen, needing to let go of her pent up stress.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste what's making all that noise.”

You bit your lip at your girlfriend's voice, breathless and whiney. Her voice was always so commanding and stable, right now it was anything but, shaking and cracking as she moaned through her words. Even the idea of how needy Wanda was to feel and taste you was enough to push you to the orgasm you were ready to beg for,

“Can I cum? Please can I cum? Please please?”

Wanda thought it was adorable how messy you were when begging, repeating words, struggling to finish a sentence, it was utterly adorable. She waited a few seconds, successfully catching up to you before answering,

“Come for me detka be a good girl for me.”

As soon as you heard Wanda's high pitch moan leave her lips, hearing the slight ruffle of the fabric on her end from how hard she was convulsing, your body finally snapped. A white hot rush spread across your body, your limbs locking as they shook erratically, your legs squeezing your hand and arm. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a cracked moan, falling limp immediately as your legs fell back open.

Your breaths synchronised, and you ran your fingers through your hair as you caught your breath, eyes remaining shut as you came down. Just as you were ready to apologise to Wanda for not listening to her rant, her quiet voice climbed through the speaker,

“Can you do another one for me sweetheart?”

#wanda x reader #wanda x female reader #mommy wanda #wanda x you #x female reader #x reader #wanda maximoff #w|w #ray writes #raywriting #wanda smut #wanda #wanda nsft

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heartsriki · 1 month ago

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CLICKBAIT ROMANCE⌇사진

pairing ᝰ jake x fem!reader — featuring.. sunoo

word count: 3.5k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺college au!, frenemies to lovers, fluff, bickering, teasing, cheesy.

synopsis — When the head journalist of the university magazine is paired with campus heartthrob Jake Sim for a fake dating photoshoot, the lines between pretend and real begin to blur.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I really hate this actually but I gotta drop a fic so… BETTER FICS COMING OUT TRUST.

Your university had a reputation.

Not for its academics, not for its sports teams, not even for its prestigious alumni. No, your campus was famous for one thing—love.

At first, it seemed like a silly exaggeration, a running joke passed down from upperclassmen to freshmen. But after multiple surveys and actual research, the results were undeniable. Your university had one of the highest couple rates in the entire country.

Everywhere you looked, love was on full display. Couples held hands between classes, exchanged gifts in the courtyard, and whispered to each other during lectures. It wasn’t just on Valentine’s Day—it was as if Valentine’s Day was every day.

And somehow, you were one of the last people standing.

As the head journalist for the university’s magazine, you prided yourself on being an observer, not a participant. But when your department was tasked with coming up with a bold new feature to attract new students, the solution was obvious:

A front-page story on why this campus was the perfect place to fall in love.

No big deal. Just another article.

Except for one small problem.

You had to work with Jake Sim. The school’s star photographer.

And the one person who got under your skin like no other.

“Tell me you’re joking.”

You stare at your editor, brows furrowed in disbelief. The harsh glow of the newsroom’s fluorescent lights only makes the situation feel more like a nightmare.

“Not joking.” Sunoo, the editor-in-chief of the university’s online magazine, taps his nails against his desk, barely hiding his amusement. “The couple we lined up for the article bailed last minute, so you and Jake will have to step in.”

Your stomach drops. “Step in?”

“As in, pretend to be a couple for the shoot,” he says, grinning. “It’s just for the ‘Perfect Date Spot’ feature. We need photos, and you need a partner. Jake’s already agreed.”

Jake Sim. Campus heartthrob. Star photographer. Your walking headache.

You spin around to see him leaning against the doorway, camera slung around his neck, smirking like this is the best news he’s heard all week. “How’s my gorgeous girlfriend doing?” he teases.

You glare. “First of all, Fake girlfriend, Second of all,You actually agreed to this?”

He shrugs. “I like a challenge.”

You cross your arms. “Oh, so pretending to date me is a challenge?”

“Exactly.” His smirk widens, like he enjoys riling you up. “But don’t worry. I’ll make you look good.”

You scoff. “I always look good.”

Sunoo claps his hands, cutting through the tension. “Great! Now that we’re all on board, you two are scheduled for a shoot tomorrow evening. Candlelit dinner, cute coffee date, maybe even a romantic walk under the city lights. Not sure yet but we need variety.”

Jake chuckles. “Sounds like a real date.”

You roll your eyes. “Except it’s fake.”

He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Too bad, huh?”

Your breath catches for just a second before you snap out of it. This is Jake—cocky, frustrating, and way too confident. There’s nothing romantic about this. It’s just a collaboration for the magazine.

You tell yourself that as you storm out of the newsroom, Jake’s low chuckle falling behind you.

The next evening, you find yourself standing outside a charming little cafe, arms crossed as you wait for Jake to show up. The air is crisp, and the soft glow of string lights overhead makes the setting almost too picturesque.

It would be romantic if it weren’t for the fact that you were here with Jake.

You check your phone, scowling at the time. He’s late. Of course, he’s late.

“Miss me?”

You whirl around to see Jake strolling toward you, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, looking irritatingly effortless as always. His camera hangs from his neck, and he flashes you a grin like he enjoys the way your jaw tightens at the sight of him.

“You’re late,” you snap.

He shrugs. “Better late than never.”

You huff, resisting the urge to argue because Sunoo had already threatened to kill you both if this shoot didn’t go smoothly. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Jake chuckles. “That’s the spirit.”

You shoot him a glare, but he only winks before heading inside.

The cafe is warm and cozy, the kind of place that practically begs couples to curl up in a corner and share a slice of cake. Sunoo has already arranged everything—two lattes with heart-shaped foam, a plate of macarons, and a corner table bathed in soft candlelight.

Jake lets out a low whistle as he pulls out a chair. “Damn, Sunoo really set the mood.”

You sit down stiffly, suddenly hyper-aware of how… intimate this looks. “Let’s just get the shots and go.”

Jake smirks as he adjusts the camera. “Sure. But if we’re faking a date, we might as well sell it.”

You arch a brow. “What are you suggesting?”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze playful. “Relax. Talk to me like we’re actually on a date.”

You scoff. “Why would I do that?”

“Because,” he says smoothly, lifting his camera, “a real couple wouldn’t be glaring at each other like they’re plotting murder.”

You hate that he has a point.

With a reluctant sigh, you force your expression to soften. “Fine.” You rest your chin on your hand, putting on your best charmed and totally not annoyed look. “So, Jake. What’s your biggest flaw?”

He grins, snapping a photo. “Too good-looking.”

You make a show of gagging. “Try again.”

He hums, pretending to think. “Alright, alright. I guess I can be… a little cocky.”

“A little?” you deadpan.

Jake laughs, the sound warm and surprisingly genuine. The click of his camera follows, and when he lowers it, his gaze lingers on you for just a second longer than necessary.

The moment hangs between you two, thick and strangely personal, as if the fake date has blurred the lines into something real, something you didn’t expect. But then Jake clears his throat, as if snapping out of it, and his grin returns, albeit with a little less bite this time.

“Let’s not get all deep now. It’s supposed to be a fun date,” he says, his voice light, almost teasing, as he snaps another photo.

You roll your eyes, thankful for the shift back to something familiar. “Yeah, I know. Fun.” You take a sip of your latte, the warmth soothing your nerves. “So, what about you? What’s your idea of the perfect date?”

Jake leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table, eyes narrowing in thought. “Hmm… I’d say a quiet evening, no distractions. Maybe a walk along the river with good conversation and no phones.” He pauses, his gaze drifting to you before he adds, “And definitely some great food. Gotta have the right atmosphere, right?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He chuckles. “I’m full of surprises.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you push it away, focusing instead on the delicate foam heart in your cup. This is just for the shoot. Nothing more. You remind yourself again, but the thought feels hollow this time.

The waiter approaches, setting down a plate of macarons with a flourish, and you both pause to exchange a few polite words. As the waiter walks away, you can’t help but notice how comfortable you’ve become sitting across from Jake, how the small moments—like the way he catches the light, or the way he holds his camera so naturally—suddenly feel like you’re seeing him in a different way.

“So, what’s your idea of a perfect date?” Jake asks, snapping a photo of the macarons.

You look at him for a moment, trying to push aside the flicker of something—something soft that you didn’t want to feel. “I don’t know. Something simple, I guess. A dinner, maybe. But nothing too fancy. I like the idea of just… being with someone, talking, not worrying about the rest of the world.”

Jake watches you closely, and for a second, you wonder if he’s actually listening. His eyes soften, and the usual teasing glint is absent. For a moment, you think he might say something else—something deeper. But then, as quickly as it appears, that thought vanishes.

He smirks again, snapping another photo. “I think that sounds like a good date. Simple’s underrated.”

The silence stretches between you as Jake adjusts his camera and you both sip your drinks. And then, just when you think the moment has passed, Jake sets his camera down and leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You know,” he says quietly, “I could get used to this.”

The words hit you harder than expected. You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words get caught in your throat. It’s not a joke. It’s not an attempt to flirt. It’s just… different.

And before you can respond, Jake’s grin returns, just as quickly as it left. “Just kidding,” he says, winking playfully. “You’re way too uptight for me, anyway.”

You blink, trying to steady your breath. “Whatever,” you say, though your voice sounds a little unsteady. You take another sip of your latte, trying to act like the crack in your composure didn’t just happen.

But Jake doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up his camera again, clicking another shot, and the air between you settles back into the familiar rhythm of a fake date—perfectly staged, perfectly managed.

You and Jake are assigned to another fake date shoot, the weather clears up, leaving behind a warm, golden sunset that makes the campus feel like something out of a romantic movie. Sunoo has yet again arranged everything—this time, a park on campus with winding trails, a small lake with a bridge over it, and a picnic setup waiting for you both by the water.

Jake meets you at the park entrance, dressed casually in a t-shirt and a hoodie, his hair still damp from a quick shower, and his usual grin already in place.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes giving away the fact that he’s probably already plotting how to make this shoot less of a chore for him and more of an adventure.

You shoot him a look. “You really love making this more difficult, don’t you?”

“Not at all,” Jake says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just trying to make it a little more… authentic.”

You suppress the sigh threatening to escape. “Right. Authentic.”

Sunoo’s instructions were simple: get some romantic shots by the lake, maybe catch a candid moment in the park as if you were actually a couple out on a date, and try to make it look effortless. But as you start walking toward the lake, the path lined with blooming flowers and soft greenery, you can’t help but wonder: how exactly does one make a fake date look effortless?

Jake slows his pace next to you, his camera hanging loosely around his neck. “Alright, how about this? We take a nice stroll around the lake, chat a little, and see what happens.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Chat? You mean like the last time, where you gloated about your looks?”

He grins. “Sure, but this time, I’ll be a bit more… charming.”

You roll your eyes. “Good luck with that.”

Jake shrugs, his grin widening. “You’ll see.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few moments, the setting sun casting a warm, orange glow across the water. The breeze feels nice against your skin, the peace of the park in stark contrast to the energy that Jake brings with him.

When you reach the edge of the lake, Sunoo’s setup is already in place—a picnic blanket spread out with some snacks, flowers tucked neatly beside it, and a basket filled with what looks like sandwiches and fruit. The water glistens in the fading sunlight.

Jake notices your hesitation as he sets his camera down. “What’s wrong?”

You glance over at the blanket, wondering how to keep this all casual. “It just seems a little… too much, don’t you think?”

Jake follows your gaze, then shrugs. “It’s all for the shots. We’ll be done soon, I promise.” He plops down on the blanket, stretching out his legs with a casual ease. “Besides, I think I could use a break. You should sit down, too.”

Reluctantly, you sit down beside him, your gaze drawn to the ripples on the water. For a moment, it’s quiet. You can hear birds chirping in the distance, the soft rustling of leaves, and then, Jake speaks again.

“So, have you ever been in love?” he asks suddenly, voice surprisingly soft.

You glance at him, wondering if this is part of the “charming” act he mentioned earlier. But the sincerity in his voice makes you pause.

“I… don’t know,” you admit after a beat. “I think I’ve had crushes, but love? I’m not sure.”

Jake looks at you, his expression unreadable. “I think I get it. It’s about finding someone who can make you feel like you when everything else is chaos.”

You blink, caught off guard by how real that sounds. “I didn’t expect that from you.”

Jake grins. “I told you, I’m full of surprises.” He nudges you again, this time with a little more force, making you laugh despite yourself. “But seriously, sometimes it just takes the right person to help you figure things out.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to decipher whether he’s being genuine or if this is just part of the act. His usual playful smirk is gone, replaced by something more thoughtful.

Before you can respond, the sound of a camera shutter breaks the silence, and Jake leans back. “Gotcha. You looked cute right there.”

You scowl, but it’s half-hearted. “One of these days I’m going to strangle you with that camera strap.”

He laughs, but there’s no teasing edge to it this time. “I think you like it, actually.”

You shove him playfully, and for the rest of the shoot, the two of you fall into a surprisingly easy rhythm. You take photos by the water, walk along the lake hand-in-hand for a few shots, and exchange casual conversation like two friends who don’t have to pretend to be anything they’re not.

By the time the sun dips below the horizon and the shoot is finally wrapped up, you realize that, despite the fake nature of it all, you’ve had more fun than you care to admit.

“Not so bad, right?” Jake asks as he packs up the camera, still holding your hand.

You hesitate, then nod. “Not bad.”

As you walk back toward campus together, the distance between you and Jake feels just a little bit smaller.

The lake near campus is calm, its surface shimmering under the warm afternoon sun. It’s the perfect spot for your final photoshoot—a peaceful location to end the “Perfect Date Spot” feature. The air smells fresh, the light is golden, and there’s a gentle breeze that adds a sense of serenity to everything.

You, however, are not at peace.

“Kayaking?” you repeat, eyes wide. “Sunoo, we’re supposed to be pretending to date, not reenacting The Notebook scene in a canoe.”

Sunoo grins from behind his camera setup, his usual mischievous energy in full swing. “It’s not a canoe. It’s a kayak. And it’s perfect! Plus, this will be your best shoot yet. Trust me.”

Jake, already wearing a life vest, leans against his kayak with a confident smirk. “It’ll be fun. Just relax.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your nerves. Kayaking seems like an ordeal on its own, and the added pressure of pretending to be the perfect couple while Sunoo snaps away from the shore makes you feel more awkward than ever.

But, here you are.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you mutter, stepping into the kayak. Your feet are a little unsteady, but Jake steadies you with a hand, his touch lingering for a second longer than necessary.

“I got you,” he says, his voice unusually soft for someone who usually teases. “Let’s just paddle together, okay? It’s easier than you think.”

You nod, glancing back at Sunoo, who’s already poised with his camera, looking entirely too excited about the whole thing.

“Okay, ready?” Jake asks, his paddle raised in the air like some sort of announcement.

You give him a thumbs-up. “Ready I guess.”

You both start paddling, and at first, it’s smooth. The two of you glide across the water with ease, the peacefulness of the lake contrasting sharply with the nervous energy you’ve been carrying since the shoot started. For a moment, it feels almost… natural.

“See? This isn’t so bad,” Jake says, glancing over at you.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. “Don’t get too cocky. We’re barely out of the water.”

Jake laughs, the sound echoing across the lake. “You’re just worried about tipping over. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Of course, that’s when he does it.

With a sly grin, Jake shifts his weight and—splash—you’re thrown into the cool, refreshing water.

You barely have time to process what’s happened before you’re fully submerged, bubbles bursting around you as you come up gasping for air, blinking away the droplets.

Jake is dying in laughter, still sitting safely in the kayak, as if he hasn’t just launched you into the water. “You should’ve seen your face!” he says between fits of laughter.

“Jake Sim!” you shout, splashing water toward him with as much force as you can muster. “You are going to regret that.”

Without thinking, you grab the edge of the kayak and, using all your strength, pull it—and him—into the water with you.

Jake’s eyes widen in horror just before he plunges in with a loud splash, the kayak tipping sideways, sending both of you into the water in an awkward, laughing heap.

The world is suddenly full of bubbles and laughter as you both surface, gasping for air. Your hair is plastered to your face, and the lake water clings to your clothes. But, for once, you don’t care.

“That’s what you get!” you shout, though you can’t help the laughter bubbling up inside you. “What were you thinking?”

Jake wipes water from his eyes, still grinning. “I think I just made the best decision of my life.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge, splashing water at him. “You sure about that?”

“I’m definitely sure,” he says, swimming closer, his eyes sparkling with mischievous intent. He splashes water back at you, and soon, you’re both caught up in an water fight, the laughter and splashing filling the air.

Sunoo, still on the shore, lowers his camera for a moment, watching you both with a grin. “This wasn’t what I had in mind but.. They actually look like a real couple right now.”

You pause for a moment, catching your breath between laughs. You’re soaked, your hair is a mess, and your heart is racing—but it feels good. It feels real.

Jake treads water beside you, his smile softening. “This might be the best part of this whole fake dating thing,” he says, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone. “Being with you.”

Before either of you can say anything else, you both hear Sunoo laughing from the shore. “Alright! No more mushy stuff. Get back in the kayak, we still need more shots!”

Jake raises an eyebrow, playfully sticking his tongue out toward Sunoo. “Mushy stuff? Really? I’m just trying to get my fake-girlfriend to admit we’re actually a thing.”

You roll your eyes but swim over to the kayak, feeling a little bolder than before. “Fine, I’ll admit it. This has been fun. Now, let’s finish this before we drown.”

Jake laughs and hops back into the kayak, offering you a hand. You take it without hesitation, finding your balance again, this time without the nerves. The two of you resume paddling, this time with more ease. The tension that once existed between you has melted away, replaced with something lighter, warmer.

The sun begins to dip lower in the sky as Sunoo takes his final shots from the shore. For once, there’s no pretending. No acting. Just two people—laughing, paddling through the water, and finally allowing themselves to be real.

And when the shoot is over, as the evening winds down, Jake turns to you with a grin that could light up the entire lake. “You wanna go on a real date after this?”

You grin back, feeling something shift inside you—something good. “Yeah, why not?”

With a final splash of water, you both make your way back to the shore, ready to leave the lake behind… but not the moments you’ve shared.

And maybe, you’ll get to share a few more.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #fanfic #fluff fic #enhypen jake #enhypen sim jake #sim jake x reader #jake enhypen #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake

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imaginewarehouse · 2 years ago

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Nightmare Cafe x Reader || Headcanons

I really wanna start writing for Nightmare Cafe ^^ I know probably no one else has seen it- but I love it so its okay XD This is just a tester for me to play with the setting a bit, literally.

Imagine: You being the Cafe's favourite inhabitant (Aside from Blackie).

Warnings: ... not really. A building loves you ^^ <3 Its nice XD

🔆🔆🔆

Your coffee/tea/hot chocolate, whatever- is always the perfect temperature. It never cools down too much even when it should have, and never burns your tongue.

Your blankets are always pulled up and over you in the night if they've slipped off and its cold in there.

If anyone is rude to you in any way, or makes you uncomfortable, the café gets quite passive aggressive towards them- whether you've handled them yourself or not. It'll-

Close doors right in this persons face so they bang their nose,

'Misplace' the things the person orders (Sugar? Creamer? Bread? Sorry what's that???? Frank and Fae become so so confused- where the hell did the coffee go?? This is a café isn't it!?),

Make the stools super slippery //or// gross and sticky while the person is sitting on it so they either slip right off or come away from it with shit on the backs of their pants

Wont turn the TV on when the person tries,

Will keep cabinets locked shut no matter how hard they're pulled by the person. Maybe let it open when they're pulling the hardest so they either bang their noses again or fall on their butts.

etc

When you're down, it'll play music that you like and turn on the oven/coffee machine/stove/whatever needs to start to make your favourite snack. If Frank or Fae turn it off again, it'll just flip right back to life. Like, no. The bread will be done in 10 minutes. Get out the china.

If you play a card game with Blackie, the café likes to sometimes make sure you get good cards. He will cheat either way but the café just wants you to have a chance XD

Speaking of Blackie- his is, obviously, Café's other favourite inhabitant. If you two fought the whole café would get darker and more sombre until you made up again (And depending on who was in the wrong, the cafe may give you 'subtle' nudges. It wants its favourites to be friends again! Maybe more). This is how Fae and Frank always know when something has happened. They may come out of where they sleep (Which is... I don't even know where. Do they have rooms? Or do they just pack themselves away in the dishwasher and the cabinet for the nights?? 😅😅), look around... and Frank immediately goes to help out and fic things. Fae grabs him and takes him back to the kitchen. No no no, they're adults. They can figure this out themselves. // But, if we can help- // Sit down. I'll get you some coffee. Just dont move.

When you and Blackie make up, the café makes you both a sweet treat as a reward XDD Like good. You stopped fighting. Sit down and have cake together now. The whole building gets warmer and the jukebox starts to player happier background music.

#Nightmare Cafe x Reader #Nightmare Cafe x Reader Headcanons #Nightmare Cafe #Nightmare Cafe 1992 #Frank Nolan #Fae Peronivic #Nightmare Cafe Blackie #Blackie #Headcanons #Imagine

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 year ago

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an unhealthy obsession

Online boyfriend x afab!reader

A/n: this was rushed, sorry y'all 😞🌺

tw: noncon, drugging, somnophilia, identity fraud, mentioned cheating, online relationship, kidnapping, mention of masturbation

💉you met Xavier exactly a year and a half ago. A friend Introduced you, with you both quickly hitting it off. He was so charismatic and friendly! He made you feel good inside. Becoming mutuals, you were chatting everyday. (After confirming he was a real person and who he said he was)

💊 but little did you know he was lying about everything. All the pictures he sent? Edited. His calls and voice recordings? Distorted to where you can't recognize it. He was highly insecure, thinking that if you knew who he really was you'd turn your nose in disgust

💉he wasn't actually Xavier. He was an ex boyfriend you used to have in highschool, freshman year. You knew most relationships at that age never lasted long, but you couldn't help and feel hurt when you walked in on him messing around with some girl. You forgot his name...

💊 he regretted what he did. He really did! But he knew you wouldn't give him another chance so easily. So he was left to pretend to be someone else, just to hear your laugh. See your face through pictures. He couldn't get you out of his head! His parents were never there for him, but you were. You were always there. Loving and coddling him. He'd be damned to let that go so easily

💉it took a while to get your friend to introduce him, and every bone in his body to not jump and squeal in joy when you both finally "met". But now that you've been dating for a while, you want to meet up.. that's not good. He can keep making excuses for so long until you get tired

💊 so he does anything to pacify you. Sending you money, gifts, flowers. All while stroking himself to hearing your excited rambles on call. How many times has he shamelessly masturbated to your voice? He couldn't count. You were just too sexy!

💉 his resolve lasted only 5 more months until he finally agreed to meet you. His heart beating with anxiety as he waited in the cafe. Wearing sunglasses, a facemask and a hoodie. Brushing it off as him being shy you sat next to him and quickly started talking. As if you weren't uneasy by his (lack of) appearance. God how he adored you.

💊 you went on multiple dates after that, trying to convince him to take off the mask and glasses but he was stubborn. 'Till he got a grand idea. Inviting you to his house was the biggest blessing for him, and the biggest nightmare for you. Setting up a fancy dinner in his living room, whipping up your favorite dish and drink. Crushing fertility and sleeping pills in the food

💉clueless you trusted him blindly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and smiling fondly at the romantic setting. He pulled out a chair for you to sit down, and pushed it back in once you did. Still wearing his glasses and face mask, but at this point you didn't mind it as much

💊 he watched you eat quietly, chit chatting as he could feel all the blood rush to his cock in anticipation of his dubious plan. You started to feel drowsy and apologized halfway to finishing your food, your cup empty as you went to the sofa and fell ontop of it. Barely conscious

💉he grinned, taking off his glasses and mask, picking you up easily and shakily Snaking a hand down to tug off your clothes. worming his tongue in-between your lips, Hungrily lapping at your saliva while plopping you onto the bed.

💊 he ripped off his shirt, grabbing a bottle of lube and shoving the tip into your hole. Squirting it inside as he teased your genitals. Pulling the bottle away, he quickly replaced it with his dick's tip. Shoving it in and letting out a satisfied groan, bottoming out inside your slippery insides.

💉 he wasted no time In pounding into you, holding your hips flushed against his as he was determined to breed your tight pussy. Bending down a bit to suckle on your breasts, biting and nibbling anywhere he could reach. He went all night, until he physically couldn't give you anymore of his sperm.

💊 flopping ontop of you, he kissed your unconscious form tenderly, caressing your tummy with a loving smile. When you'd wake up, you'd definitely remember your ex boyfriend, Damien.

"so pretty.. now you can't leave me, because soon We'll have a baby on the way~ you wouldn't mind living in the forest where no one can find you right? Hah, ofcourse you don't.."

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rinnstars · 6 months ago

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picture-perfect!

in which he keeps polaroids of you still in everything he owns

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble, post-canon, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

people always say the honeymoon period of relationships end - sugary-sweet words that rolls out of ones tongue every few minutes turn into more mellowed down and calm compliments occasionally, opening of doors and other gentlemanly behaviour would slowly cease or become a rare sight, dilated eyes that focuses on you will slowly drift away too. he thinks that’s stupid - he doesn’t think for a single second of this relationship of years has that tightening of his chest stop when he sees you, nor has his eyes have not focused on you as if youre the ball he hyperfocuses on during his games, nor has he ever once stopped taking photos of you when your gaze drift away from his with one single click that to him, captures your beauty and the memories all in one printed polaroid in his room, hundreds of it hidden in secret corners of his room.

a polaroid of you as a bookmark for his textbooks - your smile practically brightening the dark background of an empty classroom where you found your lost keychain, exclaiming to him before turning around and pulling him into your embrace, your scent whirling and making him all dizzy as your touch sends electricity down his very spine. it keeps him in check, encouraging him to continue to do his homework even though he knows that’s not the path he’ll pursue with football in mind - but when your lips tug upwards the same way when he shows you another increased grade, he thinks its all worth it. and so he does - with that photo right beside him, he finishes assignments and essays that he usually dreads to do and would much rather spend his time in detention and taking a good nap than to figure out on which formula to use, what the key words are - and god is his head practically spinning already. but for you, he’ll continue on to study for that stupid quiz tomorrow, memorising the formula for you, each letter and equations all written with you in mind, ticking each answer with the hello-kitty pen you gave him. and so, when he shows you his full marks quiz, you would reward him with that crescent-eyed grin that gets his heart pumping as though hes right back on the field.

polaroids of you on his walls beside his bed - first one of you with your favourite strawberry cheesecake in front of you grinning as you successfully convinced him to go to the cafe you had been craving for for the whole day, hands holding the fork and knife before you digged in excitedly into the sugary-sweet and tangy taste of the cake that he secretly admits tastes so much better when its with you, second one of you with a sanrio stuffed toy holding it to your cheeks that puffs up as you laugh right as he snapped the photo, a plushie you adore that’s still on your bed to this day that he managed to obtain after loads of money and time spent on that one claw machine simply because you were too excited to obtain it, third one of you looking back big-eyed as he caught you off guard in class, taking a picture the second he called out your name. every night, he glances at the photographs that forms a heart right on his wall and clarity enters his mind again - insecure thoughts that floods his mind seems to go silent when he glanaces at you through the photo frame, his heavy breathing after another of those nightmare that turns slower and calmer as he looks at the blurry photo of you through his teary eyes and limited lighting in his practically pitch-black room, his smile that is uncharacteristically too wide for his face when he looks at you smiling as if youre infecting him with your addictive grin. for now, that’ll do well to replace your body caged in his arm that embraces you just right, your scent that fills his nose that practically acts as serotonin, and your warmth that contrasts his usually cold body.

and a polaroid of you with his jersey holding his trophy when he won his first big match under pxg, the backdrop being of the field that he was playing at just minutes ago, your eyes filled with adoration and pride at him behind the camera, holding your digicam that rings with the matching keychain to his polaroid film. tugged safely into his wallet where he can see your face - a reminder to buy something for you whenever hes at yours and his favourite desert store to buy you the pistachio macorns you adore or even the strawberry mochi that you look at with that shine in your eyes, a reminder of him being fortunate to have you to stay with him despite everything that brightens up his day no matter how bad it has been at trainings or matches, and most importantly a reminder for him on why each goal matters, each kick dedicated to you, each step practically made with you in his mind. to win, not completely only for his own ego, or as revenge against the critics both in his life and in the media, but for you - for you to look at him with such adoration that practically almost makes him start kicking his feet and everything as if hes a maiden in love, for you to kiss him and merge oyu and him together as congratulation that makes his heart pump even faster than on field, for him to see you wearing his jersey and holding his trophy as though its all yours - because in his mind, it is. because without you in his life, without your support and without your love, he doubts he can truly be the best striker in the world, no - he wouldn’t even be himself, itoshi rin, without you.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin.<3 #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #have a fever again not lcikgumg ij as per usual #fever but rinmaxxing

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alotofpockets · 4 months ago

Text

Nightmares again? | Aitana Bonmati x Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Nightmares again?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

Nightmares were one of your biggest enemies. They came and went whenever they pleased, not once had you been able to pinpoint what caused them. There was only one thing you knew for certain with them, and that was that Aitana would always be able to help you fall asleep again, no matter how bad they were.

It was just your luck, of course, that they decided to haunt your nights again while your girlfriend was away on national camp. It wasn’t until Aitana had been away for a week until you had your first bad nightmare. You had woken up scared in the middle of the night, and had reached out for Aitana on instinct.

However, the bed beside you had been empty. The realisation dawns on you instantly. Aitana wasn’t there to help you fall back asleep. You laid in bed for hours, twisting and turning, until eventually you fell back asleep.

The next few days the same thing happened almost as if your night was on loop. It took every bit of energy you had left to go into work and help customers. You owned a cafe with your older sister, it had been your dream growing up and now it was a booming business in the middle of Barcelona.

You tried to hide your tiredness behind more cups of coffee while at work, but you could feel your sister’s eyes on you, so you knew that she was aware that something was up. You didn’t want to bother her with it of course. Besides not wanting to bother your sister with your troubles, you also didn’t let Aitana know. Her schedule was jam-packed and you didn’t want to worry her.

Despite your lack of sleep and therefore energy, you couldn’t stay away from the stadium, usually you would drive but you thought it was best to take a taxi this time around. You found yourself in a bustling stadium, surrounded by excited fans, just sitting there and staring out in front of you.

To be completely honest, after the warm ups where Aitana spotted you and waved your way happily, the rest of the game had been a blur. You clapped when the people around you cheered, but not even the score was registering.

After the match, you made your way to the family section. Along the way you got a coffee to help get your energy levels up. It would still be a couple of days until Aitana would get back home, and you wanted her to be able to finish camp without having to worry about you.

When Aitana found you in the room amongst the rest of the family and friends, she rushed your way and into your arms. Her hug was exactly the comfort that you needed, you sank into it, hoping to soak it up as much as possible.

Aitana studied your face, but if she noticed anything, she didn’t mention it. She took you to the side and sat down on one of the benches. “I’ve missed you, Tana.” She takes your hand in hers and gives it a loving squeeze, “I’ve missed you too.”

With the promise of seeing each other soon, you have to part ways again.

You dragged yourself to the cafe again, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. The tell tale sign that your sister had gotten in before you did and had started the first pot of the day.

The morning went alright, you already being a few cups of coffee in, but you knew your facade was slipping when your sister kept eying you. “You need to go home.” She finally says.

“I’m fine.” You reply instantly, even though you knew that you were far from okay. “Go home, that’s an order.” She said sternly. You knew that with that tone, there would be no arguing. Her say was final.

Once you had grabbed your things, you walked past your sister. “Call me if you need any help with the lunch rush.” She shook her head, “I will not be calling you, no matter how busy it gets. Now get out of here and get some rest.” You rolled your eyes and followed her orders.

A few hours later, Aitana walks into the cafe, knowing you’re on shift for today. She hadn’t bothered coming home first, she wanted to see you right away. After a quick look around the store, she only saw your sister. “Hey, is she in the back?” Aitana asked, already putting her bag behind the counter and ready to head through the doors.

“No, I sent her home.” Your sister replied while putting away the rest of the mugs she had been drying off. “Why? Is she okay?”

“She looked exhausted, barely made it through the morning shift.” Aitana cursed herself for not saying anything back at the game. She hadn’t wanted to bring too much attention to it as you were in a room full of people, but she had noticed that you weren’t yourself.

“Anyway she can take the next few days off? I wanna make sure she’s doing alright and getting her rest in.” Your sister nodded instantly. “Yeah of course, as long as she needs it. Take care of her, Aita.” Aitana thanked her and with a quick hug, she was out the door and on her way home.

When she arrived at your shared home and found you fast asleep on the couch with a blanket pulled over your body, she softly sat down her bag and made her way over to the kitchen. She looked around to see if the ingredients to your favourite meal were there, and once she had found them all, she got to work.

You were a bit disoriented when you woke up. Falling asleep on the couch had you looking around the room confused, but then when you smelled food, you really thought you might still be asleep.

“Tana?” You called out. The next second you hear footsteps in the kitchen. “Perfect timing! I was just done with dinner.” You were still confused at what was going on, but luckily your girlfriend quickly made her way over to you and explained.

“I went by the cafe, but your sister told me she sent you home. When I got here, you were asleep, so I didn’t want to wake you.” She sat down next to you and pulled you in for a hug. “Nightmares again?”

“Yeah, for about two weeks now.” You fall into Aitana’s comforting arms. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I should’ve done something to help when I noticed something was off at the match.” With a shake of your head you told her not to be. “I wanted you to keep your focus on your work. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“Come on, let’s have some dinner.” She took you to the kitchen and sat you down at the table while she plated the food.

“Let’s get away for a couple of days to recharge, just you and me. Maybe by the beach?” She suggested. Your brows furrowed slightly. “We can’t Tana, we both have work.” Aitana shook her head with a smile.

“I’ve got that part all figured out. You have time off until you’re feeling more rested and I was able to take a couple days off. ” You had no idea that Aitana had thought so deeply into this, and felt very loved that she went to such lengths to help you.

“It sounds lovely, but I don’t think I have the energy to plan anything.” Aitana stood up and kissed your forehead. “That’s okay, I’ll plan and pack. We can leave tomorrow and just have a couple days of rest.”

Even while you knew that Aitana had a busy few weeks, she didn’t let you help with anything. Not the planning and not the dishes. She said your job was to lay down and relax until she got everything figured out. So you did, with your head in her lap while she booked your trip.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#pockets 5k celebration #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca women #fcbfemeni #fcb femení #espwnt #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #woso x reader

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scoupsleftcheekdimple · 6 days ago

Text

Between Heartbeats

starring: svt leader! seungcheol x fem neurosurgeon! reader

aus: angst

warnings: none

synopsis: since she performed surgery on his brother, Y/N has been close to seungcheol. little does she know: he's fallen for her. hard. but he's too scared to confess. and she would never know.

word count: 851

A/N: i saw my ex on insta a couple of days ago.. and i found all the pictures we took together..

—

Seungcheol wasn’t supposed to cry. Not in the sterile white light of the ICU, not in front of the cameras at the hospital entrance, and definitely not when his younger brother—his whole world—was wheeled into emergency surgery with a subdural hematoma. But he did. Quietly. The only sound in the hallway was the click of a pair of low-heeled shoes echoing towards him.

“Choi Seungmin’s family?”

He looked up. That voice—cool, clear, calm—somehow grounded him. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. Too young to be the one doing brain surgery.

“I’m Dr. Y/N,” she said, offering a gentle nod. “I’ll be operating on your brother.”

He blinked. She? This impossibly small woman in a ponytail and navy scrubs?

“I know you,” she added lightly, as if they were meeting at a cafe and not outside an operating theatre. “You’re Seungcheol. From Seventeen, right?”

“Uh… yeah,” he murmured. Her presence was oddly calming. Like she’d done this a hundred times.

“I like your group,” she smiled briefly. “But don’t worry. I’m better at surgery than I am at fangirling.”

And with that, she disappeared behind the double doors.

The surgery went flawlessly. Seungmin woke up within the day, groggy but coherent, and Seungcheol—relieved and overwhelmed—lingered around the hospital for days afterward, bringing coffee to nurses and pacing outside Y/N/s department just to accidentally run into her.

They did. Often.

She was surprisingly easy to talk to. Grounded. Witty in a dry way that made his eyes crinkle. He found himself laughing with her, looking for her in the cafeteria, even lingering in the cold just to walk her to her car. Everyone else treated him like a celebrity. She treated him like someone who didn’t know how to make an instant ramen packet.

Which was true, unfortunately.

But she never flirted. Never blushed. Never batted her eyes or leaned in close. Instead, she laughed at him when he was dramatic. Rolled her eyes when he tried to impress her. He was used to being adored, chased, idolized. But she was... just his friend.

And it was killing him.

Because he had fallen—hard and helplessly—for her.

—

He loved her. He really did.

But the words never made it past his lips.

Because there was always something—her schedule, his tour, the way she looked at him like he was her safe place, but never her home.

Because saying I love you would mean risking the one thing he couldn’t live without: her friendship.

So he settled.

He became her emergency contact. Her late-night ride. Her ramen buddy. Her plus-one to weddings when she didn’t want questions. Her shoulder when her favorite patient died. Her arms when she was too tired to keep hers up.

But not her person.

Never her person.

—

Sometimes she dated. Briefly. Cautiously. She’d always tell him, almost apologetically.

“Just grabbing coffee with someone. Nothing serious.”

He’d smile. Tease her. “Tell him if he hurts you, I’ll end his career.”

She’d laugh. Ruffle his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

He didn’t laugh back.

And every time she got close to someone else, he’d do something—quietly, subtly—to make it harder for them.

He knew it was selfish. Knew it wasn’t fair.

But he’d rather have her half-present in his life than not at all.

—

Once, she tried to set him up with someone.

“You two would be good together,” she said, eyes too bright. “She’s smart. Kind. Pretty.”

“Yeah?” he said flatly. “She you?”

She froze. For a moment, she looked like she might say something. But then she just laughed.

“No. I’m a nightmare.”

He smiled, even though it hurt. “Don’t I know it.”

—

Her birthday came before his.

He bought her flowers. White lilies. Her favorite.

They sat on her apartment floor, eating instant tteokbokki, watching reruns of old dramas.

“I thought I’d be married by now,” she murmured, staring at the screen but seeing something else entirely.

“You still could be,” he said. “If you’d stop picking losers.”

“I think I’m the problem,” she said quietly. “Maybe I’m just not lovable.”

He almost dropped his chopsticks.

He wanted to scream. To shake her.

I love you. I’ve loved you since the night you saved my brother and didn’t flinch when I fell apart in front of you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything.

But all he said was, “That’s not true.”

—

She left again.

For good this time. Got accepted into a global research program in London. Five years. Fully funded.

He helped her pack.

Held her while she cried.

Smiled when she asked him if she was doing the right thing.

“Go save the world,” he whispered.

Go, even if it kills me.

—

They kept in touch at first. Messages. Voicemails. Birthday gifts mailed late.

But time has a way of stretching silence until it frays.

And eventually, they stopped calling.

—

He debuted solo after SEVENTEEN disbanded. The fans loved him still. His songs got sadder. His eyes a little more hollow. He wrote lyrics that no one else could understand.

Except maybe her.

But she never said anything.

tag list: @seungkwansflower @reiofsuns2001

check out my masterlist !

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moonchild9350 · 6 months ago

Text

I'll See You in Your Dreams

Summary: You unknowingly summon an incubus after signing your name in an ancient book. Your dreams will never be the same.

Pairing: Incubus Jeongin x fab reader

Genre: Angst, Smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: nightmares, sleep paralysis, coercion, mention of souls, pussy job, multiple cum shots, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, mention of blood, mention of death

Notes: This one was took a lot of research as I stuck to the true lore of an incubus with some creative liberties of course. I hope you like this next installment!

If you enjoyed please consider a like, comment, and reblog as it keeps me motivated ♡

“I wake up with dreams falling from my eyes, and the night sky lingering in my heart, and when the sun forgets to come back for me, I make a home in the dark.” -Sabina Laura

It was a cloudy afternoon, the time of year when the sun hid, the warm rays gone swapped for darkness, the chill in the air enough to make you shiver, pull your sweater closer to your body and do a double take to look in the shadows for things that shouldn’t be.

You and your friend Aerith, decided to take a walk through town, holding cups of coffee from the local cafe in your hands to keep warm. You chattered about this and that, excited for the upcoming season, where your darkest dreams and desires can manifest.

The town was quiet, as most shops were closed, everyone gone home for the day. There was an eerie feel to the town, as darkness slowly closed in and mist began to fall from the sky. You walked and walked and as you got closer to the center of town, Aerith stopped, turning to eye the storefront of a shop.

It was abandoned, dust collecting on the windows, wooden boards plastered across the door to bar anyone from trespassing. The place was once a shop of oddities, selling anything from crystals, to candles, to books on witchcraft. The owners long gone, the shop not doing as well as they wanted in this sleepy town. You missed them being open, as you loved to browse through the shop, your fingers lightly brushing against the wares as you took in the different items.

“Look, there’s a piece of wood missing,” Aerith said, pointing to a gap in the boarded up door. “Let’s go in, see if anything was left behind.”

You considered your friend’s words, wanting to take a peek inside yourself. You’d love to get your hands on some of the items. No one was going to come back and get them.

“Sure, let’s go,” you said, nodding your head as you helped Aerith with the other boards so you could get in.

It didn’t take long, the wood old and on the verge of crumbling at the slightest touch. Dusting your hands off, you both stepped over the threshold into the darkness beyond. The air swirled with dust, the particles dancing around as you made your way further into the shop.

The air was thick and stale, the sound of footsteps of animals who have made their home in the abandoned building could be heard. You looked around, noticing how the displays were tipped over, items lying haphazardly on the counters.

You both looked around, going your separate ways, the only sound heard being your footsteps as your boots touched the rotting floor. You didn’t see anything that caught your eye, insignificant items being the only thing left behind. That is, until you came to the back corner of the shop.

You saw a square item that looked like a book sitting among the dusty shelves. You picked up the book and blew the dust off, so you could read the inscription. You searched, flipping the book over, but found no title. The book was beautiful, or at least it must have been during its prime.

There was an intricate design on the cover, the swirls kissing the edge of the book, giving way to little creatures in each corner. It seemed interesting, so you brought the book to where Aerith was so you could look at it together.

“Check this out,” you said, setting the book down in front of both of you.

“What is it?” Aerith asked, eyeing the book.

“No clue,” you said, “but let’s find out.”

You carefully opened the book to a random page, inscriptions and pictures littering the yellowing paper. You slowly flipped through the pages, reading what seemed to be latin. You stopped at a particular page, the designs catching your eye as well as a picture of a creature with wings.

“What does it say?” Aerith questioned, as she peered at the page, trying to read the words.

“Hmmmm.” You were trying to think back to your latin class that you took long ago, the words a jumbled mess in your brain. However, you were able to successfully translate the passage, a smile on your face in triumph.

It says,

Write your name on the line To enter into your wildest dreams Everything you’ve ever wanted As everything is as it seems

You paused after you finished reading the inscription, curiosity getting the best of you at the meaning of the words.

“So you only write your name on the line and then whatever you dream of should happen?” Aerith asked incredulously.

“Seems like it,” you replied.

“You should write your name down,” Aerith excitedly said. “Let’s see what happens.”

You considered her request. Should you write your name down? Nothing is going to happen anyway, as your dreams actually occurring seems too good to be true.

Thinking ‘fuck it,’ you searched for a pen in your bag. After finding one, you scribbled your name down, the sound of the pen scratching the page echoing throughout the empty shop. Once you were done, you stowed away your pen.

“There, we’ll see if anything happens.”

Aerith nodded her head, a smile on her face at the possibilities.

“Let’s go, it’s getting dark,” you said, noticing the shop was darker, the moonlight filtering in through the door, casting the only light in the shop.

You both made your way out, deciding to head back home, happy at the little adventure you had for the day. You parted ways at your street, saying goodbye, and promises of meeting up again tomorrow lingering in the air.

You walked up the steps to your home, stepping into the warm corridor, your cat Artemis, coming to greet you with a soft meow. You bent down to pet the cat behind the ears before kicking off your shoes and setting your keys down.

Locking your door, you then made your way upstairs to shower, before a cozy night in with your snacks and a good movie. Artemis came to cuddle with you, curling up and falling asleep next to you, his soft purrs warming your heart. It wasn’t long before you felt your eyes get heavy, the exhaustion from the day taking over.

Closing your eyes, you slipped into a deep sleep, letting your dreams take over your mind.

— —

You felt something heavy like an elephant sitting on your chest. The feeling was uncomfortable, causing you to gasp for air. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to take a deep breath, just to find a creature perched on top of you.

You felt terror deep down as you stared at the thing, your eyes widening as you took in his form. He was well built, with chiseled abs, and a skinny frame. His eyes were as black as obsidian, the whites of his eyes nonexistent. You tried to look away as he stared down at you, not saying a word.

You made to move, but found you couldn’t as you were paralyzed on your back, helplessly staring at the being. He smirked at you, the edge of his lip curling up, revealing sharp teeth underneath.

“Shhh,” the creature said, placing his finger on your lips.

At his touch, you instantly felt warmth throughout your body, a tingling sensation building in your core. You didn’t know why, you couldn’t understand, but you knew you wanted this creature, thing, or whatever it was.

As he trailed his fingers down your face, your neck, your covered breasts, you felt the intensity of your arousal increase, the feeling of the weight on your chest getting worse as your body tried to accommodate the pleasure that you were feeling.

You watched as the man unzipped his pants, pulling out his leaking, hard cock, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Your eye’s widened, or you thought they did, at the sight of it. You felt drool slowly trickle from the side of your mouth as you eyed his cock, angry and red and a perfect length.

He lifted your sleep shirt up, ripped your panties off, and began dragging his cock through your sopping folds, gathering your slick. You could hear your wetness as he repeated the motion again and again, the tip nudging your clit with each stroke.

The pleasure was blinding, the pressure building up within you, nice a warm with in your belly. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, all you could do was feel as the man fucked your folds. You watched as his eyes dilated even further, as he reached to drag his finger down your lip, pushing the digit inside, and pushing down on your tongue, causing you to let out a noise.

Jeongin couldn’t believe his luck, that such a pretty creature was beneath him, your puffy folds swallowing his cock with each thrust. He watched your face as you attempted to move, not being able to do so since you were paralyzed, allowing him to use your sweet body as he pleased.

He slowly gained more energy, feeling slightly revived after siphoning off your soul, bit by bit. That was the key, to not drain you completely, no, he wanted you to be his new toy. He’s to visit day after day, your soul revitalizing him back to full strength.

Jeongin dragged his eyes down from your face to your sweet pussy. You were dripping, your wetness coating his cock, your folds, your thighs. He watched as his engorged tip kissed your pretty clit again and again, imagining the sweet sounds you’d make if you could.

The thought alone sent shivers down his spine, his orgasm approaching fast. He thrusted his hips faster, the sound of your wet pussy echoing throughout the quiet room, helping glide his cock along.

With another thrust, he came, his cum coating your pelvis, the white liquid catching the hairs adorning your nether region, glistening in the moonlight that shown through your windows.

He watched you closely, focusing on your face as he attempted to read your mind. You were in a state of both agony and ecstasy, the feeling of your orgasm within too overwhelming, but unable to move or say anything.

Jeongin smiled, satiated and full. Sweet girls like you had the best souls, the power spreading throughout him, allowing him to return to his full capacity. He would be back, to visit you in your dreams, to taste your sweet soul once more.

He transformed into his natural form, his tail expanding, his wings sprouting from his back, black as the night. He took flight, gazing at your face once more before taking off, a flash at the speed of light, leaving through your open window.

You laid there on your bed, your senses slowly coming back to you. You felt exhausted, not sure why, your memory of what just occurred gone. You began to flex your arms, your legs, the electrifying, tingling feeling spreading throughout as blood returned to them.

You turned on your side, trying to fall back asleep after what you assumed was a nightmare. It didn’t take long for you to succumb to a dreamless sleep, your body exhausted unbeknownst to you because a part of your soul being gone.

The next morning you awoke to your alarm, the shrill sound piercing the room at an ungodly hour. You reached over to turn off the nuisance, as you felt a yawn coming on.

You felt tired, as if you didn’t even sleep last night. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, wishing you could sleep for another hour or two, or the whole day. Blinking a few times, you decided to get up, as unfortunately you had work today.

You made your way through your daily routine, which normally you could finish in no time at all. However, today you felt sluggish, as if you didn’t have the energy you normally had.

You also felt off, a constant tingle in your lower belly, causing arousal to drop from your core into your panties. You didn’t understand as you were just doing regular activities like brushing your hair, eating breakfast.

Before leaving, you had to change your panties as they were soaked. Finally you were ready, even though you felt exhausted and the tingle was ever present.

Your day went by, filled with people bothering you, asking you about this and that. You were ready to go home, as you felt like you were dragging more than usual during your shift. You tried not to look at the clock, keeping yourself occupied with little tasks you’ve been putting off.

Finally the time came, your boss letting you go home. You grabbed your bag and left before she could find another task for you to do. As you walked home, your phone rang, the tune loud in the otherwise quiet crowd. You accepted the call after seeing it was Aerith.

‘Hey! Wanna watch movies and pig out on snacks tonight?’

Normally you’d be ecstatic to have movie night with your best friend, but you wanted to nap, hoping that you’d feel better afterwards.

‘I’m gonna have to pass. I exhausted and I’m gonna nap.’

‘Really? Ok, we’ll have movie night another night then.’

‘Yes please. Maybe this weekend?’

‘You got it babe.’

You hung up and unlocked your door, as you had arrived at your apartment while you were on the phone. Throwing your bag down, you made your way to the couch, collapsing onto the pillows. You closed your eyes, falling asleep instantly.

You felt something crushing you. The feeling felt familiar, as you had a dream similar the other night, your subconscious reminding you of the experience. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to grasp for breath, but found you were not able to. You blinked once, twice, to see a man hovering above you.

He seemed familiar, from his black eyes, to his beautiful body that was on display. He smiled at you before touching your thighs, his fingers brushing your skin, watching as it pebbled, the hairs raising one by one. The tingling sensation that you have felt all day intensified, almost becoming unbearable.

You tried to move, wanting to wrap your arms around the man, hold him close, as he did what he wanted with your sweet body. However, all you could was stare at him, hoping that he would give you what you wanted.

Jeongin came back to you. He craved you, just as much as you were most likely craving him. Your soul was so pure, filling him with untainted energy. He hooked his fingers within your waistband, his nails scratching your skin, drawing blood. He didn’t take his eyes from yours as he dragged your leggings down your thighs, your legs, until your lower half was freed.

He parted your legs, pushing them up, giving him a view of your sweet pussy. Your slick was present, gushing out of your hole, coating your thighs and folds. Licking his lips, he lowered his head, needing to taste you.

You couldn’t see him anymore, as the man ducked down, bringing his face towards your pussy. You could feel your arousal dripping like a faucet, increased ten fold at the touch of the man. You wanted to scream, whine out as you felt his fingers part your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

You felt dizzy, the heavy feeling in your chest intensifying to the point of suffocation. The man didn’t slow down, but instead sped up, sucking your pudgy clit between his lips, his tongue darting out against it every now and then.

He licked up your arousal, reveling in the taste of you, somewhere between sweet and tangy. With each lick, suck, nip, he siphoned off more of your soul, his energy increasing.

You could feel tears build up in your eyes, the droplets slowly falling from the corners of your eyes as you felt the tingling become overwhelming, the need to cum imminent. If you could move you would be writhing under the man’s hold, wrapping your legs around his head, holding him close to smother him within your thighs.

The man continued to eat you out, his tongue fucking your little hole, licking up every drop of your arousal, the sounds of his groans filling the room. You were close, the electrifying feeling spreading through your legs, your belly, before it snapped, the pleasure so overwhelming, your body trembled within the man’s hold.

Jeongin slurped up your slick as you squirted into his mouth, making sure not to waste one drop. He was well fed, his energy ten fold, his body savoring your soul but also your sweet cum. He licked his lips, gathering your slick that was present there.

Grinning, he pulled out his erect cock. He stroked the hard appendage, once, twice, three times before cumming, the sticky substance coating your belly, your pussy, painting the canvas of your skin.

Jeongin fixed his clothes before sprouting his wings, disappearing before you could fully wake up.

You watched as the man vanished, before you lot out a loud gasp, your body waking up from the nightmare. You weren’t sure what happened, not being able to once more remember your nightmare.

You felt gross, sweat coating your skin. You decided to take a shower, hoping to get rid of the feeling. Getting up, you noticed you still felt exhausted, more so than before you took your nap. You could barely stand, your legs weak, your eyes barely able to stay open.

You made it to the shower nonetheless, using the aid of walls and counters to hold you up. You were able to shower, the warm water feeling like heaven on your sticky skin. You let out a shaky breath, noticing that the tingling ache was still there, but worse.

You felt turned on, craving for someone to touch you, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. With what little energy you had left, you brought your fingers to your pussy, the digits brushing through your folds to relieve the pressure, your orgasm causing you to shake and moan out, louder than you ever have before.

Despite this, the ache was still there, waiting to be tamed. You didn’t know what was going on, your brain muddled, your body weak.

As the days went on, you did not improve.

You were plagued with nightmares night after night, waking up in a sweat, paralyzed in fear. You still couldn’t remember what occurred during these moments, your mind empty when you wake up from them.

The ache between your legs became insatiable, nothing being able to relieve you. You called out of work each day, claiming you were sick and couldn’t get out of bed, which was not a complete lie. You ignored Aerith’s calls, her voicemails and texts showing more worry as the days went on.

Friday finally came around after a miserable week. The wind was howling, the branches of the trees outside your window tap, tap, tapping on the glass. You could hear the rain, the sound typically soothing causing you to be more on edge. You flinched as the thunder rang out, causing the frame of the house to shake.

You were lying in bed, curled up under your blankets, your breath shaky. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to eat, not having the energy to get out of bed to do so. You probably smelt sour, not able to make it to the bathroom to take a shower. You had made a makeshift bathroom while you still had to energy to do so.

Your eyes were open, the orbs staring at the window, watching the lightening flash through your curtains. You took breath after breath, as your lungs tried to fill with air. You gripped your blankets, your fingers curling around the soft material, bringing you some comfort in your ailment.

You didn’t move when you heard Aerith enter your apartment, making her presence known by shouting your name. Your eyes traveled to her as she stood in front of you, shock plastered on her face.

“What the hell happened to you?” She exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth.

She has never seen you look so bad. Your eyes sunken in, dark rims surrounding the sockets. You looked ashen and pale, as you took a rattlely breath.

“Aerith…” You whispered, not able to project your voice.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and some food in you, ok? We can talk afterwards.”

You shook your head in agreement, or you thought you did, the action barely noticeable. You watched as your friend moved around your room, tidying up. You could hear the bath running, the scent of your favorite bubble bath filling the room, a welcomed scent to the stale air that you have been inhaling for days.

Aerith took care of you, carefully scrubbing you clean, helping you change into clean clothes. She changed your sheets, putting fresh ones on, while putting the old ones to wash. She helped you back into bed, fluffing the pillows behind you, promising to go make you a warm meal, one that was sure to help you feel better.

You smiled in thanks, hoping the action met your eyes. You were thankful for your friend, as she came to your aid. You sat in bed, bundled under fresh blankets, listening to Aerith bustle around the kitchen, the scent of something tasty drifting through your apartment.

You felt better, clean, more level headed, ready to fill your stomach with food. You still had the ache down below, the feeling never having fully gone away. You tried to ignore it and focus on Aerith, who came into your room with a tray filled with soup.

Setting it down in front of you, you noticed she had made chicken soup, the perfect meal to help you feel better. She watched as you slowly spooned the food into your mouth, bite after bite. You felt warm, the cold feeling slowly dissipating as you filled your belly.

You licked your lips after taking the last bite, setting the spoon down. Despite this, you noticed you still felt exhausted. Aerith took the tray away and then sat down next to you.

“What’s wrong y/n?” She asked, concern in her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” you said, “I started to feel bad beginning last week. Over the last few days I’ve had no energy.”

You paused for a moment, taking a break as speaking even took your breath away.

“I’m just so exhausted Aerith. And I’ve had this ache, it won’t go away.”

You did not mention the nightmares, thinking they were unrelated.

Aerith regarded you for a moment, listening to your words. This seemed more than just an illness, but she wasn’t sure what else it could have been.

You both forgot about your little outing, breaking into the abandoned shop, discovering the book in which you wrote your name. But that did not cross your minds.

“Well rest up ok?” Aerith said, tucking the blankets around you. “I’ll check back in tomorrow.”

You nodded, thanking your friend for her help. You watched as she left your room, listening to the door click signaling her exit. You settled into bed once more, comfortable in the clean linen. You felt your eyes droop, eventually closing once more.

You slept a dreamless sleep, until you felt the heaviness again, signaling you were having a nightmare. Your eyes snapped open, the man above you. You took a breath and noticed you could actually do so, which was different than your other nightmares. You could also move, as you wiggled your toes, your fingers, the digits actually moving at your command.

“Y/n, my darling,” the man’s voice rang out, deep and commanding but yet alluring and sweet like nectar.

“Who are you?” You asked, finally able to ask the question that’s been on your mind for weeks.

“Jeongin, my darling. Now lay back and let me care for your sweet body.”

You relaxed at his touch, the sinews of your muscles releasing one by one allowing you to lay calmly. You eagerly awaited as he rid you of your clothes, your body giving off a glow in the dark room.

You mewled as his fingers brushed over your nipples, down your body until he reached your thighs, continuing until the pad of his thumb placed pressure against your aching clit. You watched as he removed his clothes, in awe of his toned body, his nipples peaked, his chilled abs, his cock that sat against his abdomen, erect and leaking.

Jeongin grasped his cock and brushed it through your folds, coating it in your slick. You awaited with bated breath as he pushed the tip in, your tight walls opening up for his cock. You let out a low moan as he pushed it further, inch by inch within your walls until he reached the hilt.

You were on cloud nine, the ache finally abating as your needs were being taken care of, your walls being split open by his cock. You felt pleasure like you’ve never felt before, as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. Jeongin adjusted his stance, the change allowing the tip to kiss your cervix, causing you to clench around his length.

You reached out, bringing Jeongin close to you, willing him to go deeper within you, your pussy clenching again and again. You were close, this man bringing you closer to your orgasm, your bodies becoming one, as he took you to paradise. With a cry, you came, your arousal leaking out of your pussy, coating Jeongin’s pelvis.

He grinned at your release, knowing that the end was near. He’s glad you were his next victim, the best one yet. He could feel the end of your soul, as what was left was feather thin. He continued to pound into you, groaning as your walls sucked him in, as you creamed around him in your release.

He watched as the light dimmed in your eyes, the orbs becoming more vacant as time went on. You were still breathing, but barely, your chest slowly rising and falling. It was time, to perform the final act, Jeongin feeling his release rear to a head.

With a loud groan he came, coating your walls for the first and last time, the little bit of your soul left drained. He grinned, his fingers brushing your cheek, feeling the chill on your skin. You breathed and then stuttered, your heart beating erratically.

Yes, you were sweet, his most prized victim. He is glad you walked into that shop that one day, found the book and signed away your fate. Jeongin believes your end should be swift, as simple as falling asleep. Yes, he could grant you even that.

Leaning down, he hovered over you, listening to your breaths, as you clung onto life. He pressed his lips onto yours, sealing your fate with a kiss. He felt your body still, your eyes vacant. Your breaths faint, the air barely gracing his face.

He leaned back, admiring his work, memorizing your face, your body one last time before flying away, snuffing out any light that was left in the room.

As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling, your body frozen unable to move. You could barely fill your lungs with air, your heart barely beating. The air became cold around you, like someone left a window open, the cold air chilling your skin.

You rejoiced as the ache was gone, sweet relief after so many days in agony. As a matter of fact, you felt no pain, you felt nothing at all. After a while of gazing at the ceiling, a bright light filled the room, the light warm as if it was the sun itself warming the room. You felt nothing, your body felt light, like it was floating, your mind blank.

As you laid in your bed, you felt at peace, a peace you’ve never felt before, as if everything will be ok. And as you took another shaky breath, your lungs barely expanding, you knew that yes, everything will finally be as it should.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

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