#and he said 'im still working' (he did in fact have his work open on his computer)
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Hii ik you said kenma was a bit hard to write for you but im getting on my hands and knees and begging u for more kenma content rn! ur last kenma fic was sooo goood and i need moree
4 + 4 + 4 + 4.
summary | one rule in life: do not force kenma out of his comfort zone. (because it's mean) warnings | anxiety attack, (does that count as angst?), comforting through word count | 1484. a/n | thank you so much, babes!! i hope you like this! i feel like kenma has a lot of suppressed feelings that he always deals with on his own, a lot of them being not wanting to be perceived by people. i'm also working on the final part of the other kenma fic so hopefully that should come soon :0 !! please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-
“where is he?”
kuroo tetsurou’s fingers rubbed the space between his eyes, and he nodded up the stairs to kenma’s room, “thanks for coming. he won’t let anyone in. this hasn’t happened in so long.”
“of course,” you said, taking off your shoes, slightly out of breath, having run all the way from your own home at kuroo’s call. even though he hadn’t sounded panicked over the phone, there was a sense of urgency lying in the timbre of his voice; one that told you that he was worried and would really rather not be. when he offered you water, his shoulders were a little tense, and he kept trying to push back his hair, even though everybody knew how futile of an effort that was.
kuroo’s hair, for all intents and purposes, was a constant in this life; much like a fact to focus and bank on when things turned sour or when you needed a reality check. at least, throughout all the bullshit and the lemons the universe threw at you, kuroo’s bed hair stayed as messy as it was.
“thanks, kuroo,” you said, walking past him, and he called out after you: “i owe you ice cream.”
“make that chocolate milk, and you have a deal.”
you lost your smile when you stood in front of the wooden door, knowing that the door was unlocked but not daring to open it. kenma’s privacy was holy, his boundaries unshakeable, and when he felt like he needed to retreat most, there was no way in hell you were going to cross any of them.
so you spoke through the door, “kenma. it’s me.”
there was no answer, but you knew he heard you. as quiet and soft-spoken as he was, he was all the more observant to make up for the lack of talking. a sharp listener, even more cutting eyes, but there was a deep vigilance behind the gold, a duty of care that he tried to stuff deep down as much as possible lest he would have to deal with having his emotions spill out into the open, explain their existence, admit that he cared more than he felt comfortable to feel.
allowing your back to slide against the door down, you made yourself comfortable, slinging your arms around your legs, cheek digging into your knee.
“kuroo called me, but i think you already know that,” you said softly and you felt a weight settle on the other side of the door, a dull thump sounding out; the back of a head being leaned against the wood right next to your ear. you chose not to acknowledge it, “he said that the principal made you talk in front of the school, even though he tried not to involve you.”
so close to the door, you could pick up on the little quick breaths he was forcing through his mouth and you purposefully took an audible deep breath in before continuing, “that was pretty shitty of him, but despite being put on the spot, you did really well, kenma,” and exhaled just as loudly.
his breath hitched and you faintly heard the drumming of his fingers on the ground, the nervousness seeping out of his pores, the energy that he usually was able to contain so easily all over the place now.
another inhale, “you’re not in front of anybody anymore, kenma, it’s over. you’re here, alone and safe, nobody is watching you anymore,” another exhale. slowly he started matching up with you, though his breaths were still tinged with a little despair, heavy and panicked.
you breathed with him for a while, focusing on a specific rhythm, and asked him to hold his breath at times to stop his body from hyperventilating, forcefully pushing out the air as you talked, reminding him that he had suffered through those anxiety attacks before and came out of them fine each time, that he was safe and unharmed.
“my heart—” he breathed out, one, two, three, four, “—hurts.”
“i know, kenma. it will pass, i promise.”
his voice was so quiet, so tired, even more faint through the thickness of the door, “don’t go.”
“i won’t.”
“then why—” long inhale, holding, long exhale, “—do you sound so far away?”
you turned around at that; your fingernails resting on the wood, and you knocked with them, not wanting to startle him with your knuckles nor force him out of the dissociation that wanted to hug him like a cloak, “can i come in, kenma?”
instead of answering, you heard muffled shuffling and then the door knob turning. he didn’t open the door fully, but you knew that the little squeaking of the hinges was invitation enough.
you wasted no time in pushing it open, not even bothering to get up on your feet, just immediately crawling in, knowing that he hadn’t moved far. and you were right; there he was: kozume kenma with trembling shoulders that he tried to suppress, damp strands clinging to his neck and his temple, fingers incessantly drumming on his legs now, the other clutching his black shirt, fisting the material.
his eyes, usually so attentive, were far away.
“oh, kenma,” you sighed, forcing yourself to use his name instead of any endearments even though your tongue was used to using all kind of nicknames, but you wanted to ground him, wanted him to come back and not fall down any whirlpools of catastrophic thinking, “is it okay if i touch you, mhm?”
he nodded, quick and almost imperceptible, dragging a deep breath into his body, fingers tensing up then releasing the tension again. his shoulders followed, his abdomen, his legs, trying to let out all the pent up tension that worked itself into his muscles during his anxiety flaring up. your hands found neck and you pressed your fingers into his flesh in a rhythm he could follow, still breathing with him.
“i’m here, you’re okay,” you said quietly, voice calm and controlled, his pulse irregular underneath your fingertips.
his trembling gradually lessened with every second passing that you whispered any words coming to your mind that would be able to wash away his overwhelming thoughts; his breathing smoothing out, pulse calming, allowing his body to step out of the fight-or-flight mode it found itself in after having been forced outside of its comfort zone so harshly.
kenma’s head found the crook of your neck, his forehead tacky with sweat passing its warmth over to you. his voice was considerably calmer, though still a weak imitation of his usual tenor, “i felt like dying.”
“i don’t want you to die.”
“don’t worry, i have enough scrolls of revivify,” he groaned, trying to bury his face deeper into you, nose inhaling your scent, etching it into the folds of his brain.
you leaned back against the door and his body followed you seamlessly, draping his weight on you, one hand of his gripping the hem of your shirt instead, rubbing the new material between his finger tips, and you smiled against his hair, “i thought you can’t revive in honour mode.”
“don’t even remind me.”
you laughed, your fingers still on the back of his neck, nails drawing shapes onto his skin, and you felt goosebumps erupt on his skin.
he sighed, his eyes closing, hiding the intense golden irises from you, “i’m tired. sleep with me.”
it took you a lot of coaxing to convince him to get up from the floor and the position he was in, knowing he would hurt his neck that way. so even though it was only 6pm in the evening, at the end, you found your body entangled with his on the bed, his face buried in your neck again, a hesitant kiss pressed against your skin, one hand having sneaked up your shirt to hook his finger into your bra.
“thank you,” a breeze of air, low sound, almost like it wants to hide, but sincere, “everything feels right with you.”
before you could even answer, he had already fallen asleep, breathing softly against you, stray tears having dried on his lashes. your fingers didn’t stop threading through his hair, thumb following the curve of his ear, feeling his steady and now calm heartbeat against your chest, the twitch of his leg in his sleep.
“psst,” a whisper broke you out of daydreaming and your eyes scurried over to the door. the universe’s constant factor stared back at you with furrowed brows, sending a thumbs up poised as a question and you nodded.
kuroo’s shoulders visibly relaxed, the relief palpable, and he stood there for a moment, hands propped on his hips, shaking his head, exhausted from the worry he had tried to bury deep inside.
he disappeared for a second, before coming back up the stairs to station two milk packs onto kenma’s desk. chocolate milk for you, banana milk for kenma.
#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#kozume kenma x you#kozume kenma x reader#kenma x you#kenma x reader#kozume kenma fluff#kenma fluff#kenma angst#hq#hq imagines#hq scenarios#hq x reader#hq x you#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst
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did i tell you guys i got my dad to start reading jane eyre
#he's been reading it on and off for geez idek how long now probably at least a few months#im not normally a fast reader but i did read jane eyre in exactly one week#that overlapped w my spring break tho. i went feral#to think that was five years ago almost... crazy#tales from diana#i saw the lights on downstairs and i went down to check what that was for and i found him in his office reading#and he said 'im still working' (he did in fact have his work open on his computer)#hes been liking it#i think we all remember the first time we read jane eyre and we saw jane and rochester got engaged#and panicking bc there was still sooooo much book left. oh my god#the level of not ok that was#jane eyre really is the goddamn best. like it really is#it invented new emotions in me. brother#he's almost done though. i can tell he's enjoying it bc he's been reading it more lately
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...
#i was looking through old photos today. they where from wjen i was like 1 and it made me so sad#bc my mum would have been like only a year or 2 older then i am now and she looked so young#and now she has an abdomen full of tumors and blistered hands and feet. theyre prob gonna hsve to remove her bladder#but shes still very pragmatic abt it. but she grew up in a house where no one really cared about her feelings so she made them small#and now her mother calls and doesn't ask how her grandkids are doing and doesn't ask how her daughter is doing. im cursed with terrible#grandparents on both sides but i resent my mothers mother worse. though my dad said i probably wouldnt have survived his upbringing#and hes right. my nana has like zero empathy and cant cook for shit. idk how my parents r so normal but the fact i had a good upbringing is#probably the only reason im still here. and thats the other thing that made me sad abt the old pics. just looking at this little baby with a#fucked up head and thinking: in 25 years that kid is gonna b so broken down their not gonns kno what to do or how to fix it. idk whats wrong#with me. ive always been some stage of miserable but i used to b able to get things done. and now i cant seem to force functionality#and it sucks. bc im home now and i still feel like im cringing around this open wound in my chest. but whatever#as of today ive started taking ab1lify. hopefully it helps in the long term but in the short term it triggers my 0cd. which is not fun#its so frustrating. whatever. i also found out my eyes used to not work together. not enough to have a lazy eye but it was hard for me to#read and apparently my eyes were tracking at like double the speed of a normal person. wtf is wrong with my brain? also also my mum was like#yea i never would have guessed bip0lar but we thought it was something. autism i could see 100% but yea didnt see that coming. ao i guess#i brehave like a bit of an oddball. ans my nana would bother my dad to try to make me participate in church and my dad was like no. she#clearly don't wanna b here lol. ay. they did the best they could which i appreciate#unrelated
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show me how ☆ jake sim
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☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!
"Can I get uhhhhh…"
Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.
He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.
But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!
Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!
For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.
Wrong!
It was horrible!
From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.
It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.
"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.
The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"
Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"
Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.
By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.
And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.
Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?
Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!
"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."
With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.
You've got to be kidding me.
If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.
As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.
And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.
"Jake, I'm here!"
There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.
And it was you.
His savior, you.
You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.
If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.
And plus, you were cute.
Really cute.
Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.
You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.
Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.
Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.
"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.
You were cool like that.
Actually, really cool.
Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.
And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—
"Um, sir, can I order now?"
Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.
"R-Right!"
Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.
It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.
The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night.
You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"
As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.
"They're gone, Jake," you called.
From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."
Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.
Tonight was no different from any other.
It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.
The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.
Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.
But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.
"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.
"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.
Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.
He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.
Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.
"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"
You shrugged. "Beats me."
The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."
Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.
Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.
This was the fun part.
"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"
You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"
Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.
"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."
You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.
It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.
"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"
You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.
"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.
Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.
Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.
"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.
"I heard that!"
You stifled a chuckle.
As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).
And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.
At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.
Which... now that you thought about it...
Why couldn't you hear any of that?
Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.
But now, all you heard was wind.
You glanced out the window.
Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.
And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.
One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.
Your blood ran cold.
The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.
You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.
But in that moment, you felt panic set in.
Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.
And because you were afraid of the dark.
The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.
Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.
"J-Jake?" you called out.
No response.
Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.
What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.
Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.
You squeezed your eyes shut.
The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—
"[Name]?"
At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.
But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.
Terrifying.
You let out a shriek as you jumped back.
What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—
It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—
"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"
You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.
"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."
You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.
Boom!
You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.
Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.
"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.
He glanced at your startled form.
"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."
You hid your face in your palms.
This was everything that you didn't want to happen.
It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!
Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness.
"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."
Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.
He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.
The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.
You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.
It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.
The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.
You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.
"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."
Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.
"I'm scared!" you squealed.
Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.
"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."
Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."
You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.
"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."
You shook your head again.
"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."
"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."
You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.
Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.
He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.
Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.
It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.
Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.
Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.
If only he could do something to help you...
Jake let out an 'ah' sound.
He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."
You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.
"J-Jake—!"
"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."
And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.
"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"
You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.
"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.
You blinked. "W-Why?"
"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.
"For you," he said simply.
As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.
You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.
Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.
And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.
Because really?
Bon Jovi?
At a time like this?
The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.
"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.
You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.
"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."
Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."
"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."
You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."
You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!
"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."
You scoffed. "In what world?"
You could hear him grin again. "In my world."
What a loser.
You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.
“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.
“Nope.”
Extreme times call for extreme measures.
Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.
“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“
“I’m changing the song!”
The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.
“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.
“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.
“Then change the song!”
“No!”
You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“
Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.
“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.
As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.
"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.
Jake hummed.
He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.
He wanted to get to know you.
“What’s your favorite color?”
???
"What?"
Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"
You stared at him. "Why?"
He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."
"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."
Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."
"Huh? Then what is it?"
"A shade."
"Says who?"
"Says science!"
And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)
But not quite awkward.
Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.
That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.
"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.
And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.
"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."
"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."
Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."
"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.
"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"
Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.
"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."
"Whaddaya mean?"
You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"
You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.
"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.
You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.
"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."
"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.
"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.
"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.
"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.
Awkward.
The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.
Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).
Everything was exactly as you left it.
The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.
"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!
"I'm not." Lie.
Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—
Boom!
Oh right, the storm.
Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.
Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.
"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."
You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.
"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.
Shit.
"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"
"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."
After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.
You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.
He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.
When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!
He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.
These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.
But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.
Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.
He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.
And that was the weird part.
It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!
You didn't really get it.
Surely, it wasn't a crush.
It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.
But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.
Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.
And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.
In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.
But that was a lie.
Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!
Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.
Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.
You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?
Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.
For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.
He couldn't wait for it.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"
Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.
Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.
So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.
Diabolical.
It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.
Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.
Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!
You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.
"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.
"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"
"Unacceptable!"
You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.
"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"
All of this.... for ice cream?"
"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"
"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.
But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.
"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.
Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.
"J-Jake?!"
The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.
"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.
Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.
"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.
The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"
Jake only shook his head calmly.
"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."
Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.
"Please leave, sir."
He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.
"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."
With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.
"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."
He gently pushed you down onto a chair.
Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."
"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"
But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.
"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."
(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)
You deadpanned.
This was not what you signed up for.
It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.
You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.
Nope.
"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"
Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.
Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.
You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.
"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."
You tuned him out.
And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.
You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!
"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.
"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."
And he was indeed correct.
There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.
Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.
"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"
You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"
"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."
Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.
This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.
"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"
But it wasn't always easy.
Like always, customers and children were rude.
"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.
And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.
And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.
You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.
At the same time.
"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"
"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"
Jake was being terribly awkward about it.
"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"
"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"
Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"
Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.
"What are you—"
"Just change!"
In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).
When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.
Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.
Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.
Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.
"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.
"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."
When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.
"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"
Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.
Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.
Ah, Jake was going crazy.
Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.
Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?
It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.
And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.
As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?
"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"
You groaned again.
"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"
You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.
"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.
"Door's unlocked."
Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.
"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.
It was his own uniform shirt.
"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.
"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.
"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.
Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."
Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.
Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?
As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.
Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.
As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.
It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.
You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.
And then there were rude and entitled customers.
Jake was taking the fall for you too much.
And you couldn't keep letting it happen.
As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.
"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"
Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."
"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.
"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."
Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"
His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.
"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."
You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."
Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"
"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."
And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.
"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.
"What was what?"
Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"
"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"
Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"
You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"
Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."
You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."
You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."
"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.
You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.
Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.
He was nervous.
Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.
Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.
You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.
Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.
You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.
It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.
Pretty for Jake.
You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.
"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"
Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.
You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—
"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."
Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."
"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"
You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"
"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."
You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?
"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.
You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.
"Shall we go?"
It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.
Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.
You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.
"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.
You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."
Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"
You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"
Jake hummed.
The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.
"What's this?" Jake asked.
You grinned. "A swimsuit store."
Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!
But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.
"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.
On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.
But he was wrong.
"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."
What.
What?
And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.
He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.
But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?
Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.
And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.
"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"
And oh.
Good lord.
Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.
But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.
The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.
You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.
"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.
"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."
"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.
And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.
And he was so wrong.
Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!
Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.
Well, Jake did survive.
After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.
You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.
More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.
And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks.
"Let's go walk along the shore!"
And so you did.
The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.
It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.
By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.
In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.
He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.
Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.
He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.
"You."
.
.
.
You?
You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.
"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"
You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.
You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."
"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.
But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?
But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.
Just go for it.
His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.
Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.
"Hey!" you cried.
"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.
You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.
The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.
Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.
With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.
Your earbuds.
You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.
You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.
The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.
"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"
You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."
"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"
And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.
You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.
Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.
And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.
When he hung up, his face dropped.
"They need me to take someone's shift."
Oh.
This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.
Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.
Because they always needed you and Jake to work.
And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.
Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.
The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.
You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.
When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.
"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."
You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.
Those lazy bums.
They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.
And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.
"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."
"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."
The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.
Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.
He stared at your bored expression.
He couldn't let you stay bored.
Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.
"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.
"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.
"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.
Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."
You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"
"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."
You chuckled. "Okay, fine."
Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.
The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.
Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.
"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"
Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"
You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."
"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."
The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.
"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"
But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.
Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—
"Seriously, make it harder for me!"
Jake gulped.
The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.
He'd already taken a few bites out of it.
He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.
Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.
Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.
His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.
Your lips were just so damn pretty.
It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.
He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.
And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.
Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.
You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.
Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.
Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.
The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.
"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"
And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.
There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.
Jake needed more, he needed you.
In his head, it was all just you, you, you.
"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."
He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.
Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—
"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"
!!!
You and Jake jumped away from each other.
Shit.
It was still store hours.
"Are we going to get fired?"
Now it was actually closing hours.
You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.
And it was awkward.
Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.
But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?
You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.
"For what?"
You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.
"Kissing coworkers."
"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"
"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"
.
.
.
"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"
Jake was already on it.
“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”
After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.
"We resign!"
Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"
You and Jake smiled. "We quit."
You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.
BONUS
"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.
"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.
"Oh."
You should probably put that on your to-do list.
You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.
Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!
note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<
#on ℴur 𝑙ove。✦ bywons#star-sim#vanya-writes#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen x reader#jake sim#jake enhypen#enhypen jake#jake sim fic#jake sim x reader#jake fic#jake x reader#jake sim fluff#jake sim imagines#jake imagines#enhypen imagines#jake fluff#jake sim imagine
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Home Cooked Meal
CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS
can be read as a stand alone :)
PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!
SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.
WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)
PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER
Call me when you get home x
Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.
It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.
Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.
He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.
You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.
“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.
“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”
The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.
Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.
“What are you doing right now?”
Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“
“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”
“What, now? What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”
And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.
Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.
Even Alps is confused.
Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.
Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.
He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.
She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.
With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.
Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.
Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.
He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.
Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.
It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.
Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.
“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.
“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.
“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”
Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.
Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.
When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.
“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.
Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.
“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.
“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”
You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“
Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.
“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”
Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.
“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.
“Well-“
The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.
“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“
“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.
Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.
“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.
“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”
If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.
Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”
You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”
With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.
Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.
“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.
He notices.
“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”
Fuck. Me.
You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.
“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.
You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.
Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.
“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.
You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.
“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”
Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.
With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.
Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.
“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.
“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”
“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”
You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.
Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.
It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.
Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.
Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.
Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.
“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.
“What are you trying to say there, doll?”
Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.
“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”
The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…
Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”
The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.
“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”
Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.
He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.
Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.
“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.
“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”
You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.
“You what?”
Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”
The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.
“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.
“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”
“Huh.”
Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.
“James, what are you doing?” You ask.
“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.
Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.
From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.
It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.
“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?
The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.
“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.
“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”
A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.
“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.
In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”
You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”
With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.
Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.
“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.
You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”
He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”
Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.
Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.
“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.
That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.
Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.
“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.
A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.
“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.
Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”
“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.
“Teach me.”
Huh?
“What?” You freeze.
“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”
You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.
Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.
“Okay.”
It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.
With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.
Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.
From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.
It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.
The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.
“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.
When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.
You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”
A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”
You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.
Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.
Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.
He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.
It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.
“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”
“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.
It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.
“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.
“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.
Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.
“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.
“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.
Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.
A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.
Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.
Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.
“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.
“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.
Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”
Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.
You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.
Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.
“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”
Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”
“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“
With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.
“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.
“Why?” You ask, heart racing.
It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.
Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”
A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.
Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.
“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.
“Yeah? Is that what you want?”
Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.
“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.
Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”
That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.
Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.
You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.
Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.
“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”
“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.
“Then let me make up for lost time.”
“Wait, what do y-“
Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.
Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.
It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.
“No.”
Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.
“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.
You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.
“I promise.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”
A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.
A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.
“Bucky, please…”
“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”
You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.
“Look at me, Y/n.”
The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.
“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”
The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.
Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.
He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.
“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.
“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”
You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.
Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.
“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”
“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”
“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”
Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.
The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.
“James- oh fuck-“
Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.
“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”
You mewl and squirm beneath him.
“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”
Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.
You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.
“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.
“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.
Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”
An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.
He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.
The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.
“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.
You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.
With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.
“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“
“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”
You nod feverishly.
“Good girl, now let go for me.”
That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.
“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.
“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.
Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.
“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”
You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”
“Every night, doll.”
“Huh…”
Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.
“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.
“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.
You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.
After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”
What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.
He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.
His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.
“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.
“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”
You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.
“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”
Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.
“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”
“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.
“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”
You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.
“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”
Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.
“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.
He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”
You whine.
“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”
His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.
The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.
“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”
You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.
“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”
You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.
“I wanna see you, Bucky…”
He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.
You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.
“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.
Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.
He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.
“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”
Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.
You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.
Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.
“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”
You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.
“More than anything.”
And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.
You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.
“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.
“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”
You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.
“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.
He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.
“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”
His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.
You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.
Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.
Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.
“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.
“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.
You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.
With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.
As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.
“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“
You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.
“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”
“And that’s a problem because…?”
He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”
You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.
“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”
You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.
“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.
“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”
You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.
“How about now?”
There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.
“No!” You giggle.
“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.
“James! You’re squishing me!”
The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.
Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.
“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.
Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.
“I need you inside me.”
His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.
The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.
“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”
After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.
Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.
You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”
You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”
“So what?”
Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.
A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.
“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”
His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”
He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”
His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.
“Shit, honey, say it again.”
“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.
“Again.” Your neighbour growls.
“Oh my god, fuck- I”
“Again.”
It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”
“That’s my girl.”
Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.
“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”
You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.
“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”
“Harder, Jamie.”
Goddamn.
“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”
You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.
“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”
“Ah- just like that, baby.”
“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”
Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.
“Jamie…” You sigh.
He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.
The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.
“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”
He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.
“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”
“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.
“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”
Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.
“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“
He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.
“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”
You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.
“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”
“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.
“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”
Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.
“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”
As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.
With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.
“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.
You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.
“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”
“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”
You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.
“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.
Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”
You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.
“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.
“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”
He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.
“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.
He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.
When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”
You smile, “Your shirt?”
“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“
He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.
Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.
“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.
“Of course, doll.”
Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”
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a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️
comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡
taglist: @armystay89 @rabbitrabbit12321 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @harrystylesandthegoobs @zannemes @noonespecial90 @m3ntally-unstable @blackbirdwitch22 @wintrsoldrluvr @pingpongfingfong @belleofthebooks @larienjenova @chaosbarelycontained @mostlymarvelgirl @trustworthy-jellyfish @ozwriterchick @nervousnerdwitch @suz7days @bethexo07 @ace-27749 @bellabarnes1378 @angelbabyyy99 @selella @itvy5601 @noonespecial90 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @ordelixx @krispybearbouquet @matchat3a @cl7ire @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @julvrs @anghstybean @eah-marvel-trolls @pono-pura-vida @touchstarvedforbuckybarnes
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky x you#redwing4life#bucky smut#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky fanfic#james buchanan barnes#bucky#bucky barnes smut#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#firefighter!bucky#firefighter bucky#bucky fic#bucky au#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#redfics#ashestoembers#marvel#mdni#smut
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gideondaughter!reader and spencer first time talking when the team goes to dinner and spencer is just a mess talking to her
thank you sm for the request!! hope you enjoy<3 requests are still open i’ll be working through them!
kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 1
part 2
warnings: mentions of alcohol, light flirting.
word count: 1.5k
summary: it’s gideon’s birthday dinner and the team are here to celebrate.
“are you sure he booked it for 8:30?” jj hummed, holding her clutch purse close to her sage green maxi dress.
“yes. gideon party of nine at mastro’s, 8:30pm.” spencer recalled, having the time and place drilled into his mind in fear of being late.
“party of nine? but there’s only eight of us?” elle’s brows contorted, she counted everyone in the room. jj, morgan, reid, garcia, hotch, prentiss, herself and then gideon who was yet to show, that was only eight.
“maybe he’s bringing a date?” penelope chuckled, her hands smoothing down the hem of her fitted pencil dress.
“gideon? with a date? i highly doubt that.” morgan snickered, leaning against garcia.
the group of agents waited rather impatiently for gideon to arrive to the restaurant. all adorned in their best dress for the awaited man of the hours birthday dinner.
hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.
“it’s only 8:25, he will be here.” he muttered out.
spencer began to fumble with his hands, he would class himself as a fairly patient man, the only thing on his mind currently was who the mystery ninth guest could be. he didn’t like not knowing things, it was part of being a profiler he guessed.
the doors to the dimly lit restaurant swung open, jason gideon walking in full stride with a grin on his face. he wore a navy blue suit jacket paired with his signature chinos.
“finally you’re here, they’ve been complaining for the last ten minutes.” prentiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip.
“its not even 8:30, i said i would be on time- but y/n here couldn’t find the shoes she wanted to wear.” gideon let out a small chuckle as a figure walked through the doors behind him.
a girl, roughly in her early twenties stood beside gideon. her hands clamped together in front of her, a black satin dress adorned her figure, hugging her nicely, which she paired with matching black heels.
“well i found them in the end, dad.” she mumbled out, greeting the group with a small smile.
half the team stood there it awe, mouths gaped and eyes locked on the latest arrivals.
“you clean up nice, jason.” hotch nodded towards the older man, then turning his sights on you.
“beautiful as ever.” he smiled, which he rarely did, and leaned over to give you a hug.
“thanks uncle aaron.” you grinned back, embracing his warm hug.
“i’m sorry you need to catch us up real quick- dad? uncle?” morgan titled his head like a confused puppy.
“i didn’t realise you’d have trouble putting two and two together, morgan. this is my daughter, y/n.” gideon mused, ushering you further into the room.
you held out your hand, derek quickly took it in his, giving it a small shake, cogs in his mind still visibly turning.
“and aaron isn’t actually my uncle- he just acts like it.” you pulled your hand back, returning it to your side.
gideon quickly introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone seeming to come to terms with the fact gideon had a ‘secret’ daughter that he never once brought up.
all the while spencer stood, hands glued to his sides as he eyed you. he had never seen someone so perfect, the way the dress hung from your frame, the way you politely greeted every member of the team.
when gideon had finally reached him to introduce y/n to him, he was caught off guard.
“reid, meet my daughter y/n, im sure it’s not as hard for you to understand.” gideon hummed, making a dig at morgan who had migrated with the group to where the table was set up.
unlike the others, you kept your hand to yourself, but shot spencer a sweet smile.
“it’s really nice to meet you dr. reid- my dad has told me so much about you, i know you’re not big on handshakes.”
spencer’s heart was practically doing backflips at this point. he was completely enamoured by you.
“really nice- to meet you too.” he managed to stutter out.
gideon internally rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what was happening.
“how about we sit down and look at the menu.” he began to usher his daughter towards the table, spencer following quick at his heels.
by the time the three of them had reached where the table set for nine was, the rest of the team were sat, eagerly awaiting them. the only free spaces were at either end of the rectangular table, and an extra place next to the end seat.
“hey gideon come look at this” jj beckoned the older man over, to the head of the table. he briefly turned back to his daughter, before he could utter a word she nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t be sitting with him.
“guess we can sit down at the end together.” you affirmed, shuffling to the free seats with spencer by your side.
once seated, everyone began flipping through the menu, all besides spencer who’s gaze every so often flickered over to the girl beside him, who seemed deep in thought about what she was going to order.
“what are you going to get?” she asked, attempting to make quiet conversation with the man at her side.
spencer hummed, he had researched the restaurant before hand noting all of the dishes he might like.
“the uh- the pasta, i think.” he paused for a moment. “what about you?” he cursed the heat that rose to his face, lifting his hand to loosen the dark purple tie around his neck.
you smiled, still scanning the menu, taking glimpses of spencer in his flustered state.
you had heard many things about most of the team throughout your fathers years of working with them, and when he finally allowed you to meet them, you were most excited to meet spencer.
“i might have that too, it sounds good.”
a few hours had past since everyone had sat down, everyone had finished eating and were now onto their fourth round of drinks, all besides you and spencer.
everyone was deep in conversation about a case from a few years back, obviously you had no clue what they were talking about.
you turned to spencer, who seemed to have gotten more comfortable being in such close proximity to you.
“i swear it feels like we are sitting at the kids table at a christmas dinner.” you giggled to yourself.
“i know right- it’s it’s like we aren’t even here.” spencer returned the chuckle, his heart beating a little faster.
“how are you enjoying the night- i hope im not boring you too much, if you want to join the rest of them feel free.” you mumbled out, eyes migrating to your hands that you had placed on your lap.
“no no- i like it here, i like you- i mean i like being with you i-“ spencer fumbled on his words, causing you to smile. god he was a complete mess.
you reached a hand over, placing it on spencer’s forearm. he could swear his skin felt like it was burning from your touch.
“i like being with you too, spencer.” you whispered out, a soft pink blush dusting your cheeks.
his hazel eyes locked with yours, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. he was partly confused as to why someone like you had enjoyed his awkwardness and rambling.
to say he had little experience talking to women in more than a friendly way, was an understatement.
he was completely out of his depth, and the fact that your father, his boss, sat at the other end of the table made things a little more awkward for him.
“you look really-good tonight, by the way.” he managed to mumble out, without sounding like a complete idiot.
this caused your face to flush, darting your eyes away from him briefly.
“thank you spencer.”
“would you maybe want to-“ before he could continue, gideon had stood up from the table, all eyes were on him.
“lets go y/n, your old man is getting too tired for this.” he joked.
“oh right-“ you stood up quickly brushing off your dress, you did a small lap of the table thanking everyone for the lovely evening and telling them it was great to meet them.
you then followed gideon out of the room, all remaining eyes were now on spencer who slumped down into his chair.
“that’s rough man, you had all night and didn’t even ask her out.” morgan shook his head lightly, feeling somewhat bad for the boy genius.
before spencer could say anything, he watched you dart back into the room, a piece of paper in your grasp. you quickly placed it in spencer’s hand before pressing a light peck to his cheek and running off out of the restaurant again.
the now flustered brunette un crumpled the paper, scanning the scribbled words.
thanks for talking all night, id love to go out with you sometime x
555-555-555 - y/n
“never mind- atta boy!”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#fluff#jason gideon#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#penelope garcia#jenifer jareau#elle greenaway#emily prentiss
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hii! hope ur doing good I have some ideas in mind hear me out demon sunghoon where he fell in love with reader and tries to protect and keep an eye on her and sunghoon tries to disguise himself as a human to get closer to her will do anything to protect her and love her, buttt what if reader discover’s his true identity. It could be incubus sunghoon BUT ITS UR CHOICE, Hope ur doing good :333
The Incubus's Touch - P.S
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a/n: i hope you like it <33
P: Incubus!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (Recommended age 18+)
Warnings: Murder, Violence, Obsession, Teasing, Possession, Seduction, Hurt/Comfort, Temptation, Stalking, Suggestive Content, Mature Content.
Wordcount: 10.2k
Synopsis: Working at the old campus library was fun—except for one rule: never enter the basement. Yet, one day, you found yourself there, holding an ancient book. You read a few words, and now strange things are happening, and a mysterious new student won’t leave you alone. Who—or what—did you awaken?
a/n: i got some inspiration from a new book im reading called The Devil Makes Three by Tori Bovalino - i would recommend it if you can handle slowburn.
now playing: woo by rihanna | sins (let me in) by kanii | temptation by ashley sienna | dont mess with my mind by emo
reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3
--
When you first decided to get a job close to campus, you weren’t expecting much. In fact, you didn’t have many choices at all. Most of the cafes and shops near the university had already filled their rosters for the semester, and every rejection you received only added to the growing knot of anxiety in your chest. As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing desperate, spending late nights scrolling through job postings that seemed to disappear before you could even send in an application.
It wasn’t until one quiet afternoon in the campus library that your salvation arrived.
The campus library had always been your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and filled with the smell of old books. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend hours tucked into one of the corners, surrounded by towering shelves of books and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. The librarian, Mrs. Choi, had gotten used to seeing you there almost every day, to the point where she’d started greeting you by name when you walked through the doors.
That day, she had approached your table while you were hunched over your laptop, your screen open to yet another fruitless job search.
“Still looking?” she’d asked, her voice soft but knowing.
You’d sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah. It’s been… rough.”
She’d nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting toward the stacks of books waiting to be shelved. Then, after a moment, she’d said, “How would you feel about working here? As my assistant?”
You’d blinked, thinking you must have misheard her. “Wait, really?”
“Really,” she’d said, smiling faintly. “It’s nothing glamorous, but we could use an extra set of hands. And you seem like the kind of person who’d do well here.”
You didn’t need to think twice. You’d eagerly accepted the offer on the spot.
The job, as it turned out, was exactly what you’d needed. Sorting out books, erasing stray pencil marks and doodles from pages, sitting behind the counter to check books in and out, cleaning shelves, making sure the computers were turned off at the end of the day—it was simple work.
You quickly fell into a routine. Most days, you worked quietly alongside Mrs. Choi, who was as patient and kind. Other times, you found yourself alone.
There were small challenges, of course— like figuring out the library catalog system, dealing with students who were less than gentle with the books, chasing down overdue returns—but they were minor in the grand scheme of things.
It wasn’t the job you’d imagined yourself doing, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed.
But there was one simple rule she had given you: never enter the basement alone.
At first, you thought it was strange. The basement was just a storage space, wasn’t it? A place to keep old supplies, forgotten books, and maybe some outdated equipment. Why would it matter if you were alone or not?
You got your answer the first time Mrs. Choi took you down there.
It had been a quiet afternoon, with only a few students milling around the library. Mrs. Choi had handed you a list of supplies needed to repair a torn book—a delicate process that required some old tools and adhesives she kept locked away downstairs. She led you to a small, unassuming door at the far corner of the library, almost hidden behind one of the towering shelves.
The moment the door creaked open, the atmosphere changed.
The air was heavier, colder. A faint smell of mold hit your nose immediately, mixed with something metallic that made you wrinkle your nose. The single light bulb at the top of the stairs flickered, casting shadows that danced along the narrow stairwell. You hesitated, but Mrs. Choi gave you a reassuring look and motioned for you to follow.
“I know it’s not exactly inviting,” she said with a small smile, descending the stairs, “but the supplies we need are down here. Just stick close to me.”
You nodded and followed her, but the deeper you went, the more uneasy you felt. The basement wasn’t just dark—it was suffocatingly so. The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with dust-covered boxes, forgotten stacks of books, and unidentifiable objects. The floor beneath your feet was uneven, cracked concrete, and your steps echoed in the silence.
And then there were the hallways.
You hadn’t expected the basement to be so sprawling. Hallways branched off in seemingly every direction, twisting and turning into darkness. Some of them were so narrow you’d have to walk sideways to squeeze through. Others disappeared entirely into shadows, the overhead lights either burned out or nonexistent.
“This library is older than the campus itself,” Mrs. Choi explained as she rummaged through a shelf near the end of one of the hallways. “The basement used to be part of an old archive building before the university bought the property. They’ve renovated the library a dozen times over the years, but the basement? Well…” She trailed off, gesturing to the decaying walls around you.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” you muttered, wrinkling your nose at the sight of a particularly large spiderweb on the wall.
Mrs. Choi chuckled softly. “Exactly. What the students can’t see won’t hurt them—or so the administration likes to think. Just be glad you don’t have to come down here often.”
You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting to the dark hallways. There was something… off about them.
“Mrs. Choi?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.
“Hmm?” she replied without looking up.
“Why don’t you want me coming down here alone?”
She paused, her hands stilling on the box she’d been searching through. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, and you felt a chill crawl up your spine. When she finally spoke, her tone was casual—too casual.
“It’s easy to get lost,” she said, turning to you with a faint smile. “The layout down here doesn’t make much sense, and it’s not exactly safe to wander around in the dark. The last thing I want is for you to trip and hurt yourself.”
Her explanation made sense, but the way she avoided your gaze left you unconvinced. Still, you didn’t press the issue. You helped her carry the supplies back upstairs, relieved to step back into the library.
After that, you made a point to follow her rule. The basement was creepy enough with someone else—there was no way you were going down there alone.
At least, not until the night you had no choice.
It happened a few weeks later, after a long shift that had stretched past closing time. Mrs. Choi had gone home early, trusting you to lock up on your own. Most of the evening had just been returning books to their shelves, tidying up the counter, shutting down the computers—but just as you were about to leave, you noticed a small stack of books on the repair desk.
You froze, staring at them. Mrs. Choi had asked you to fix those earlier in the week, but you’d completely forgotten. The supplies you needed were downstairs—in the basement.
You hesitated, debating whether you could just leave it for tomorrow, but you knew Mrs. Choi was counting on you. Sighing, you grabbed a flashlight from the front desk and made your way to the basement door.
You hesitated at the door, keys in hand, as a quiet, uneasy thought crossed your mind: Just leave it for tomorrow. But Mrs. Choi... She was counting on you. The supplies were just downstairs. It’d take five minutes at most.
With a resigned sigh, you unlocked the door.
The heavy, creaking groan of the hinges sent a shiver down your spine as the door swung open. The familiar smell hit you immediately: damp, mold, and that faint metallic. You reached for the light switch, flipping it on without much thought.
Nothing happened.
You froze, your hand still on the switch. You flicked it again. And again. Still nothing.
You swallowed hard, telling yourself the bulb had probably just burned out—though you couldn’t remember a time the light had ever failed before.
“It’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, bringing the flashlight you’d brought along up. The bright beam cut through the darkness as you clicked it on, illuminating the narrow staircase in front of you. You took a shaky breath and began your descent.
The further down you went, the colder it became.
The air felt heavier here, pressing against your skin like a warning. You tried to focus on the flashlight’s beam, watching it bounce against the cracked walls and uneven steps. It helped, a little. But not enough to shake the growing knot of unease curling in your stomach.
When you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, you paused to look around. The beam of your flashlight swept across the basement, revealing the same maze of shelves, forgotten boxes, and darkened hallways you’d seen before. But tonight, it felt different—almost unfamiliar.
A shiver ran up your spine. You adjusted your grip on the flashlight, forcing yourself to move.
“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “Get the supplies and leave.”
You turned toward the shelf where Mrs. Choi always kept the repair tools. They were usually right there—neatly stored in a small wooden crate on the middle shelf. But as you shone the flashlight over it, you froze.
The shelf was empty.
Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly scanned the area. No crate. No tools. Nothing. You crouched down, checking the lower shelves, even though you knew they’d never been there before. Still nothing.
“Where…?” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own breathing.
Maybe Mrs. Choi had moved them? That was possible, right? She was always reorganizing things. You straightened up, your flashlight flicking from shelf to shelf, moving to step back, you were about tt turn to check the other shelves nearby. That’s when you heard it.
A faint sound, just on the edge of your hearing. A soft creak, like the sound of a door easing open—or maybe a floorboard shifting underfoot.
You froze, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hand.
“Hello?” you called out, your voice louder than you intended. It echoed through the basement, bouncing off the walls and disappearing into the dark hallways. No response.
You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe just the old pipes settling, or your own footsteps disturbing something. But as you turned back to the shelf, another sound reached you.
This time, it was softer—quieter. Like the faint rustle of fabric.
Your stomach dropped.
You swung the flashlight toward the nearest hallway, its beam cutting through the dark. Nothing. Just more shelves, more shadows. But your instincts were screaming at you now, telling you to leave. To get out of there.
"Okay, nope," you whispered to yourself, backing away from the hallway, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hands.
That’s when you heard it.
A hum.
Soft, almost melodic, like someone humming a lullaby just out of earshot. It floated through the air, carried on a breeze that shouldn’t have existed down here. The sound wrapped around you, tender and strangely inviting, tugging at something deep inside your chest.
You froze, the flashlight beam flickering as your grip loosened. The hum grew louder—not in an overwhelming way, but in a way that seemed to sink into your bones. It felt… warm.
Where were you again?
You frowned, the thought slipping through your mind like water through your fingers. You couldn’t remember. The dim basement around you blurred at the edges, the walls dissolving into a hazy glow. The tight knot of fear in your stomach melted away, replaced by a slow, pleasant warmth that spread through your body.
The hum wrapped around you like a blanket, comforting and wonderful, coaxing you to close your eyes and just… relax. The cold, damp smell of the basement faded, replaced by something sweeter. Flowers? No… vanilla, maybe. Something that reminded you of home.
You let out a soft sigh, your muscles relaxing, the tension in your shoulders fading. Your flashlight slipped from your fingers and clattered to the ground, but you barely noticed.
Everything felt so perfect.
You wanted to stay here forever.
But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the hum stopped.
And everything crashed back into focus.
The warmth in your chest was gone, replaced by a sharp chill that clawed at your skin. The sweetness in the air vanished, leaving behind the bitter stench of mold and metal. Your surroundings solidified, and you realized you were no longer standing where you’d been before.
You were in a different room.
The walls were smooth and gray, completely different from the crumbling concrete of the basement hallways. The shelves were gone, replaced by nothing but cold, empty space. The air felt heavier, colder, and every breath you took made your chest ache.
Your flashlight was nowhere to be seen, but a dim, pale light seemed to seep into the room from nowhere and everywhere at once.
The hum was gone, but the silence it left behind was worse.
You turned in slow circles, your heart hammering in your chest. The room was small, with smooth, gray walls that loomed over you, stretching upward into darkness.
“Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.
It echoed back to you, warped and distant, as if the room was far larger than it seemed.
The warped echoes of your voice faded into the suffocating silence of the room, leaving only the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
How did you even get here?
You couldn't remember. Your mind was still foggy, fragments of warmth and that eerie hum lingering in the back of your thoughts like an unfinished dream.
Did you walk here?
You felt like you were missing pieces of yourself, as if part of your memory had been swallowed whole.
You were about to take a tentative step forward when something deep inside you shifted—a strange, unnatural pull. It wasn't a sensation you could describe easily. It was as though a string deep within your chest was being tugged, pulling you toward something.
You froze, your breath catching as your eyes followed the invisible tether.
In the center of the room, sitting on a low, ornate stand, was a book.
Your heart stuttered. Had that been there before? You were sure it wasn’t. You would have noticed it immediately, wouldn’t you?
The book seemed to glow faintly, its crimson-red cover almost pulsating, like it was alive. There were no words or symbols on the front, just smooth, worn leather that seemed impossibly pristine for something that felt so… ancient.
You swallowed hard, your feet moving toward it as if on their own. Each step felt heavier, your instincts screaming at you to turn around, to run, but you couldn’t stop.
When you finally reached it, you hesitated.
It was smaller than you expected, almost delicate, as though it shouldn’t have belonged in a place like this. Despite its vivid crimson color, the book radiated a strange sense of calm—like it wanted to be touched.
Before you realized it, your fingers were brushing against the cover.
It felt smooth, almost unnaturally so, and surprisingly light when you picked it up. You turned it over in your hands, the edges soft and perfectly bound, as if the book had been untouched for centuries. But on the back, something caught your attention.
A pink heart.
It was imprinted into the leather, subtle, making it look almost playful.
You huffed, confused and almost annoyed by how strange it all felt. Turning the book back over, you slowly opened it.
The pages inside were blank.
Every single one, clean and untouched, as though the book had never been written in. But when you turned to the first page, something stopped you in your tracks.
There was writing.
It was delicate, inked in looping, elegant script that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. The letters were strange, unfamiliar, but they seemed alive, as though they were moving ever so slightly, shifting and breathing on the page.
Latin, your mind supplied, though you couldn’t remember ever studying the language.
You tilted your head, curiosity overriding your fear as your eyes traced the unfamiliar words. They beckoned to you, pulling you in deeper. Before you even realized what you were doing, your lips parted, and you read them aloud:
"Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum."
Nothing happened.
You stared at the book, waiting for some dramatic effect—a rumble, a flash of light, maybe a ghostly apparition—but there was nothing. Just silence.
You let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes. “Great. Real spooky,” you muttered under your breath. Closing the book with a snap, you placed it back on the stand, wiping your hands on your jeans as if to rid yourself of its texture. “What a waste of time.”
Turning around, you glanced around the room again, your frustration growing. It wasn’t like you had time to deal with creepy books in creepy basements. You still needed to get out of here and figure out why the supplies weren’t where they were supposed to be.
Then, you saw it.
A door.
It was open, just wide enough for you to slip through. You frowned. Had it been there before? It must’ve been—how else would you have gotten in here? Still, something about it didn’t sit right with you.
Was that where you came from?
You shrugged. Probably.
With no other options, you headed toward it, slipping through the opening, the faint creak of the hinges echoing unnervingly.
And then you were swallowed by darkness.
“Of course,” you muttered, groaning. Without the flashlight from earlier, the darkness was thick and impenetrable. You could barely see an inch in front of your face, and the faint light from the room behind you did nothing to help.
Fishing your phone from your pocket, you switched on its flashlight. The beam wasn’t as strong as the flashlight you’d been carrying before, but it was enough to see the area around you.
The floor beneath your feet was uneven and cold, a mixture of dirt and cracked stone. You shone the light around, trying to get your bearings. The walls were damp and covered in spiderwebs, and the faint scent of mold and rust lingered in the air.
Where even am I?
You took a tentative step forward, the beam of light from your phone trembling as you moved.
The hallway kept stretching forward, narrow and seemingly endless. The farther you walked, the more the walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder with each step. Your phone’s light flickered once, then again, making your pulse spike.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” you whispered, gripping the device tighter.
The light steadied, and you exhaled a shaky breath, your footsteps faltering slightly.
Something felt off.
The air was too still, the silence too absolute. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like you were being watched, like something was lurking just beyond the reach of your light.
You shook your head, trying to focus. “Get it together,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just find the exit.”
But as you took another step, something caught your attention.
A sound.
It was faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grew louder the more you listened. A soft, rhythmic tapping, like footsteps… or fingers drumming against a surface.
You froze, the beam of your phone’s light shaking as your hands trembled. The sound echoed faintly through the corridor, coming from somewhere ahead of you.
“Hello?” you called, your voice cracking slightly.
No response.
The tapping stopped.
You waited, holding your breath, your ears straining for any hint of movement.
Then, suddenly, the tapping started again—this time behind you.
Your stomach dropped, and you whipped around, the flashlight from your phone sweeping over the hallway you’d just walked through. It was empty.
Completely, utterly empty.
You took a shaky step backward, your heart hammering in your chest. The tapping grew louder, faster, coming from all around you now, echoing off the walls in a maddening cacophony.
“Stop it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just stop!”
And then it did.
The silence that followed was deafening, almost worse than the sound itself. You took another step back, your pulse racing, and suddenly the floor beneath you gave way.
With a startled cry, you fell, the phone slipping from your hand as you tumbled into darkness.
You hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Dazed and disoriented, you lay there for a moment, your head spinning and your body aching.
When you finally managed to sit up, you realized you were no longer in the narrow hallway.
You were back in the room.
The light was gone, replaced by an suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly around you.
And in the center of the room, sitting on the stand where you’d left it, was the book.
But this time, it wasn`t red.
It was black.
And it was beating.
You screamed, the sound raw and terrified as it echoed around the room. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Your body felt impossibly heavy, as though some unseen force was pressing down on you, rooting you in place.
Frantic, your eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out, for anything to explain what was happening. But the darkness seemed alive now, shifting and writhing just beyond your vision.
And then, you felt it.
Hot breath, impossibly close, brushing against your ear.
Your breath hitched as warmth spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, and you hated how your body betrayed you, reacting to something you couldn’t even see.
Then came the lips.
Soft, feather-light, trailing along the curve of your neck. The sensation was so vivid, so real, that a groan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your body arched instinctively, leaning into the phantom touch, even as your mind screamed at you to fight it, to run, to do something.
“Shh,” a voice purred, its tone soothing. “There’s no need to be afraid, my sweet. You called me, remember?”
Your heart raced, and your hands clenched into fists as you tried to regain control of your body. “What… what are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
The presence behind you chuckled, the sound low and intimate, like a lover’s laugh shared in the dark.
“I’m yours,” it said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You read the words. You invited me in. And now… we’re bound.”
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no, this isn’t real. This can’t be real.”
“Oh, but it is,” the voice replied, amusement lacing its tone. “You wanted something, didn’t you? Why else would you open that book? Why else would you speak those words?”
The weight on your body eased slightly, enough for you to shift and try to crawl away, but the darkness coiled around you like a living thing, keeping you in place.
“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” the voice murmured, almost pitying. “Poor thing. You were so eager, so curious. And now…”
A hand—cold yet burning—brushed against your cheek, tilting your head up toward the stand where the book still rested.
“…you’re mine.”
The room seemed to pulse with those final words, the darkness tightening around you like a vice. Your vision blurred as panic clawed at your throat, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the book—its pages flipping wildly on their own—glowing faintly with a sinister crimson light.
You woke up with a sharp gasp, your body jolting upright like you’d been shocked awake. But as you looked around, you realized you were lying in the middle of the hallway.
Your phone was on the floor beside you, its flashlight pointed up at the cracked ceiling.
It was a dream?
You laughed, breathless and shaky, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself. “This is insane,” you muttered, your voice trembling. The laughter didn’t last long—it felt hollow, a desperate attempt to convince yourself that what you’d experienced wasn’t real.
You snatched up your phone, and scrambled to your feet. Without wasting another second, you sprinted down the hallway, the weak beam of your phone’s flashlight bouncing with every step. You didn’t care where you were going anymore; you just needed to get out.
The hallways twisted and turned, stretching endlessly, and every shadow seemed to claw at you as you ran. It felt like hours—like the labyrinth was mocking you, refusing to let you leave.
But finally, somehow, you found your way back.
The dim light of the main basement room greeted you, and your breath hitched as your eyes landed on something you hadn’t expected to see.
The box of supplies.
It was sitting on the shelf, exactly where it was supposed to be.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at it. The same box you’d been searching for, on the same shelf you’d checked before.
How had it gotten here?
You didn’t dare question it. Not now. Not after everything that had just happened.
Without hesitation, you grabbed the box, clutching it tightly in one hand while you snatched the flashlight off the ground with the other.
Then you bolted.
Your feet thundered up the stairs, your pulse roaring in your ears as you raced for the exit. When you reached the top, you slammed the basement door shut and locked it, your hands shaking so badly it took you a couple of tries to get the key to turn.
The moment it was locked, you pressed your back against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
You glanced down at the supplies in your arms, the mundane, ordinary contents almost laughable now after everything you’d been through.
But as you stood there, something cold prickled at the back of your neck.
You turned slowly, your eyes drifting toward the library’s main floor.
Everything was still. Silent.
And yet, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a figure standing in the shadows between the shelves.
Watching you.
You blinked, and it was gone.
This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.
You forced yourself to take a deep breath, shaking your head as you clutched the box tighter. You were just tired, that was all. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days, and the stress of balancing school and work was clearly catching up to you. Yeah, tired. That’s all this is, you thought, repeating it like a mantra.
Ignoring the lingering unease prickling at the back of your neck, you made your way to the counter. The two ripped books Mrs. Choi had left were still there, waiting for you. You dropped the box down with a thud, grabbed the tools you needed, and got to work.
Your hands trembled at first as you smoothed out the torn pages, applying the adhesive carefully. You focused on the process—cutting, pressing, and smoothing out the repair strips—letting the repetitive actions calm your frayed nerves.
This was normal. Fixing books. Doing your job. Nothing weird about that.
Minutes passed. Then longer. The books were almost done, and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe again.
But then, just as you reached for the last tool in the box, a soft tap echoed through the library.
Your hand froze mid-reach, your eyes darting toward the source of the sound.
Tap… tap… tap.
It came from the direction of the shelves, slow and deliberate, like someone tapping their nails against wood.
Your chest tightened as you stared into the rows of books, the library was dark now—darker than it should’ve been. The overhead lights seemed dimmer, casting distorted shadows across the shelves.
You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was the building settling, or the heating system kicking on. Don’t be stupid. You’re just scaring yourself.
Still, you couldn’t help but call out, your voice wavering. “Hello?”
No response.
The tapping stopped.
You stared into the darkness for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering in your chest.
Then, just as you were about to turn back to the books, a book fell from one of the shelves.
The sound was deafening, the thud reverberating through the library like a gunshot.
You jumped, your breath hitching, and spun toward the source. The book lay open on the floor, its pages splayed out like wings.
You didn’t want to go over there. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to stay behind the counter, to leave it alone.
But your feet moved on their own, taking slow, hesitant steps toward the fallen book.
When you finally reached the book, you crouched down, your hand trembling as you picked it up.
Your fingers brushed over the embossed title, and your stomach dropped.
It was the same book you’d seen in the basement.
You gasped, clutching the crimson book tightly as your eyes darted around the library. Maybe this was some sort of prank? Someone could have grabbed the book from the basement and planted it here to scare you.
“Hello?” you called out again, but the library was still empty, silent.
Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, desperate to catch a glimpse of anyone—a student pulling some cruel joke, or maybe Mrs. Choi coming back to check on you. But there was no one.
You hurried back to the counter, your heart racing, and turned on the computer. Your fingers fumbled as you brought up the CCTV footage, the small screen flickering to life. You scrubbed through the past hour, watching yourself walking back and forth, grabbing the box, and fixing the books.
Nothing.
No one else had entered the library. The hallways and shelves were empty. It was just you, moving around, completely alone.
Well… almost.
You paused the footage, your heart sinking as your eyes locked onto a shadow. It was faint, barely distinguishable, but for one brief frame, something seemed to linger in the corner of the screen. Not a person, but… something.
It was gone in the next frame.
“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the monitor off.
You looked at the crimson book sitting on the counter, its cover gleaming faintly under the dim light. It felt wrong—its very presence seemed to thrum.
Without thinking, you grabbed it and tossed it into the nearest trash bin, making sure it landed deep under crumpled paper and leftover scraps.
“There,” you said to yourself, your voice shaky. “Done.”
Forcing yourself to focus, you went back to finishing the torn books, your hands working faster than ever. As soon as the repairs were complete, you shoved the box under the counter and hurried to turn off the lights.
The library plunged into darkness, the faint moonlight filtering through the windows barely enough to guide you as you locked the doors behind you.
You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside. The campus was quiet, the lampposts casting long shadows across the pathways.
You tightened your coat around you and began the walk home, your footsteps echoing loud. Every so often, you glanced over your shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that someone was following you.
But the path behind you was always empty.
Still, the unease stayed with you, like a cold weight settling deep in your chest.
When you finally reached your apartment, you locked the door behind you, double-checking it twice before collapsing onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were just tired, your imagination running wild after a long day.
Before you knew it, sleep had overtaken you. The exhaustion from the long day weighed down on your body like a blanket, pulling you into unconsciousness almost instantly.
But the peace of sleep didn’t last long.
You found yourself in a dimly lit bedroom, one you didn’t recognize. The walls were draped with dark curtains, and the air was heavy with the faint scent of roses. You sat up slowly, blinking in confusion as you tried to make sense of where you were.
“How did I…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off.
Before you could process anything, a voice, smooth and rich like velvet, broke the silence.
“My, you’re even more beautiful up close.”
The words sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts alluring and unsettling. You whipped your head around, searching for the source, but the shadows in the room seemed to shift and dance, obscuring whoever was speaking to you.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” the voice continued, closer now, almost right beside your ear. “To touch you… to feel you…”
You gasped as a pair of lips suddenly pressed against yours, soft but demanding.
Your initial instinct was to pull away, but the sensation was overwhelming. Your mind grew hazy, a strange warmth spreading through your chest as the kiss deepened. It felt so intoxicating, so magnetic, that you couldn’t help but melt into it.
Your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever experienced—it was all-consuming, as though the very act of it was pulling you further into the dream.
You felt hands brush against your skin, feather-light but firm, holding you in place.
You tried to pull back, but the hands held you steady, the kiss turning more possessive. The warmth you’d felt earlier now burned, searing through your veins as if something was being poured into you.
Panic swelled in your chest, but just as you were about to scream, the room spun violently, and everything went dark.
When your eyes shot open, you were back on your couch, drenched in sweat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, your fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.
It was a dream. Just a dream.
But the lingering warmth on your lips, the faint ache of the kiss, told you otherwise.
And as you glanced toward the door, you froze.
The crimson book was sitting there, completely untouched, resting on the floor as if it had never been buried at all.
Your blood ran cold.
You scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding as you stared at the book. How was it there again? You knew you’d buried it deep under the pile of scraps.
“Nope. Not dealing with this,” you muttered, your voice shaking but resolute.
You grabbed the book, your fingers brushing against its smooth, cold cover. A strange, pleasant warmth crawled up your arm at the contact, sending shivers through your body. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—too good. Your grip faltered as a soft sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.
No.
Shaking your head fiercely, you tightened your grip and turned toward the window. Without hesitating, you threw it open, the cool night air brushing against your flushed face.
With all the strength you could muster, you hurled the book out. It spiraled through the air before landing with a dull thud on the damp grass below.
You leaned against the windowsill, watching the book. It lay there, unmoving.
Relief coursed through you.
“That’s it,” you whispered. “Stay there. Stay gone.”
Slamming the window shut, you locked it, double-checking the latch before stepping back.
You needed to clear your head, to shake off the strange sensations still crawling under your skin. Heading to the bathroom, you stripped off your clothes.
The shower hissed to life, steam rising as the water warmed. You stepped under the stream, letting the heat cascade over you, washing away the sweat and fear clinging to your body.
You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to convince yourself it was all in your head. Just a bad day. Just a stressful, weird day.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water beating against your skin filling your ears as you focused on your breathing. It’s fine. It’s just your imagination. Nothing weird is going on. You’re tired, just tired, you repeated in your mind.
The water seemed colder now, even though the temperature hadn't changed, and a shiver ran down your spine. You’re overthinking it. Just get out of the shower and relax, you told yourself, but your hands felt heavy as you reached for the soap.
Just as you were about to wash your face, a soft tap echoed from somewhere beyond the bathroom door.
You froze, the motion of your hands stalling in midair.
Tap... Tap...
Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes darted to the bathroom door.
It was all too familiar. You couldn’t breathe, your chest tightening as the sound echoed louder in your mind.
No. No. It’s just the house settling. Maybe it’s the pipes. Just the pipes.
But the words felt hollow in your mind, the fear building with every passing second. The taps grew louder, clearer, almost closer.
You turned off the water quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. You stood there, motionless, listening, waiting for the sound to stop.
But it didn’t.
And then a creak. Just slightly, but enough for you to hear.
You gasped, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you backed away, your legs shaking. Your mind screamed at you to leave the bathroom, to get out of the apartment, but you couldn’t move.
Then, before you could react, the door opened, just a crack.
There was nothing on the other side.
Just the empty hallway beyond.
But you knew. You knew it wasn’t right.
You slammed the door shut and locked it immediately, your breath ragged. The air in the bathroom felt stifling now, the walls pressing in on you, the space shrinking.
Your hand trembled as you reached for your phone, desperate to call someone, anyone.
But the screen flickered as soon as you unlocked it. The text on the screen was warped, unreadable. You stared at it for a moment, your stomach dropping. Something wasn’t right with your phone either.
A sharp, guttural whisper curled through the air, a voice so low you barely caught it.
The voice was so faint at first, you thought it was just a figment of your imagination, a trick your mind had played in the silence. But then it came again, clear and sharp, wrapping around your senses like a heavy fog.
“Come closer...”
It was soft, smooth, but there was an undeniable edge to it—laced with something... something tempting.
You froze, the words swirling in your mind. It wasn’t your own voice. It was deeper, resonating through you, the very air around you thick with a strange pull. Your chest tightened, and you felt something shift within you, an involuntary tug deep inside your stomach, urging you forward.
“Just one touch... just one kiss...”
The voice slithered, curling into your ear like a lover’s whisper, and something about it stirred the air around you. Your body was heating up, your skin prickling with a strange energy you couldn't explain.
You swallowed hard, your breath quickening as you stared at the mirror, trying to make sense of what was happening.
That’s when you felt it—an undeniable heat at your back.
It burned, searing through you like something alive, something that wanted you. Your breath hitched, and you spun around in a panic, expecting to see someone behind you, but the bathroom was empty, the space cold and silent.
But the heat didn’t fade.
It lingered, crawling across your skin like a heavy presence, sending shivers up your spine. There was no one there, but the sensation of being watched was there. Your body tensed, the warmth spreading through your entire body now, suffocating you, as if someone was right there, pressed against you, whispering into your very soul.
“It’s just us now…”
You glanced into the mirror once more, and there it was again—the figure. This time, it was clearer, its shadowy outline just behind you, impossibly close. The reflection wasn’t yours—it was someone else, standing so close that the hairs on your neck stood on end.
You gasped, heart pounding, but the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. It simply stood.
The heat intensified, and the whisper grew louder, more insistent, as if it had taken root in your mind.
“Come to me... you know you want to...”
Your pulse raced. The pull in your chest was growing stronger now, as if your body was no longer your own, as if it was being drawn to something that wasn’t just a dream anymore.
The room began to spin, and you had to grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself, feeling dizzy as the desire to obey, to give in, washed over you. But as you fought it, something else caught your eye in the mirror—something that made your blood run cold.
A pair of glowing eyes pierced through the shadows, locked on you. And they were hungry.
You staggered back, heart slamming against your ribcage, and in the corner of your vision, you saw a fleeting glimpse of something—something moving, shifting in the dark.
No… You wanted to scream, to run, but your body wouldn’t move. Your limbs felt like lead, and the heat had become unbearable, pressing into you, dragging you toward it.
With a strangled breath, you finally tore your gaze away from the mirror, blinking furiously to rid yourself of the image. But the voice didn’t stop. It echoed inside your mind, growing louder.
“We’re bound now... there’s no going back…”
You tried to pull away, tried to break free of the suffocating heat and the unbearable pressure, but you couldn’t move. It was as if invisible hands were holding you in place. Your body, already trembling from the overwhelming sensations, was paralyzed as the touch slowly traveled up your arms.
It was light, ghostly, like fingertips grazing over your skin—soft, but burning with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t. The sensation slid up to your shoulders, your neck, curling around you.
The moment it brushed your throat, the pressure seemed to increase, suffocating you. The touch lingered there, just under your jawline, fingers gentle yet firm. And then, before you could think, before you could react, you felt something else—lips.
A kiss.
But not from anyone you could see.
Your eyes snapped shut, your breath shallow as the kiss deepened, warm and intoxicating. It was urgent, burning, and wrong, but in a way that felt too good to resist. You tried to move, tried to pull back, but the invisible force held you in place, pushing you further into the kiss.
It was there, all around you—this overwhelming feeling of being wanted, of being pulled into something. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, fear and desire mingling into a sickening cocktail. The sensation of lips on yours, it felt alive, like the very essence of the kiss was drawing something from you.
A low, satisfied murmur vibrated against your lips, and something deep within you shivered.
No… stop, please… You tried to scream in your mind, but your body didn’t obey. You couldn’t pull away from it.
You were being pulled into it, held captive by something invisible, something that wasn't human. But what? What was kissing you, claiming you like this?
The answer felt just out of reach, like a whisper that barely brushed against your mind, too faint to grasp, too slippery to hold onto. The sensation of lips—too warm, too alive—pressed against yours again, and your strength began to wane. It was as if every breath you took was being drained, pulled out from you with each passing second. You felt weak, too weak to move, too weak to even think.
Your body, once full of fear, had gone completely limp, like a ragdoll strung up and held in place by an invisible force. The pressure around your throat tightened, suffocating, but you could do nothing to fight it. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t even blink—all your energy was consumed, sucked away by whatever was holding you captive, by the kiss that wasn't a kiss.
You could feel your mind slipping, like your thoughts were dissolving into the heat, into the darkness surrounding you. The invisible force—was it a presence? A shadow?—held you in place, guiding you, manipulating you, as if you were a puppet and it was pulling your strings.
But still, the sensation of being claimed lingered, you tried to focus, tried to break free, but it was no use. Every attempt only made you feel smaller, more powerless, like you were losing yourself bit by bit.
Was this what it wanted?
Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. It felt... distant. Detached. Like you were a spectator in your own skin, watching as the thing—whatever it was—wove its tendrils around you.
Just as the world around you seemed to fade, a distant whisper echoed through the fog of your mind:
"Mine now."
The words wrapped around you like a heavy chain, pulling tighter and tighter until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel the floor beneath you anymore.
You were slipping away, your body fading into nothingness, held together only by the force that had claimed you.
"Mine forever."
--
When you woke up, it wasn’t like any other morning. You felt... tired. Groggy, and exhausted. As you stretched, you looked around the room, everything exactly as you left it, nothing unusual. It felt normal.
When you arrived at school, you couldn’t focus. The lessons droned on, but your mind kept wandering. You couldn't shake the feeling from last night. There was a gnawing curiosity deep inside you, a need to know what had happened, to make sense of it. You couldn’t just ignore it—your body wasn’t the same.
You pulled out your laptop in the middle of class, and you typed furiously. Your fingers flew over the keys, searching for any explanation that made sense, some kind of rational answer.
You found nothing but chaos.
The results were all over the place: demons, rituals, ghosts, whispers about curses and creatures from myths, things you thought only existed in horror stories. At first, you dismissed it. This can’t be real, you told yourself. But the deeper you went, the more it all seemed... possible.
And then you found it.
Incubus demons.
Your stomach twisted as you read more. The descriptions, the encounters—everything fit too perfectly. A demon, often seductive, one that could manipulate dreams, feed off your energy, entwine itself with you in the most intimate of ways. It would drain you slowly, filling you with warmth, with need, until it had you completely. Some even said an incubus could bind you to them—forever.
You felt a shiver creep down your spine. Was this what had happened to you? Could it be real? Could the thing you felt, the presence that had been with you, be an incubus?
The deeper you read, the more it made sense. The powerlessness, the way you felt unable to stop it, to resist. The hunger, the overwhelming desire. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn't dream it.
You were still lost in thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You gathered your things mechanically, your mind still reeling from the unsettling information you had uncovered. The words about incubus demons echoed in your head, each sentence making you feel more and more trapped.
As you packed your bag, your hand brushed against something unfamiliar. A cold chill ran through you, and your stomach dropped. You froze for a second, staring at your bag with a creeping sense of dread. Slowly, you opened it, and your eyes widened.
The book.
The crimson-red book. The one you had thrown out the window, the one you’d left behind—it was here, in your bag.
Your heart hammered in your chest, your fingers trembling as you touched the book. It was impossible. How could it be here? You distinctly remembered tossing it out, watching it fall to the ground outside your window. You’d even seen it land on the grass—it couldn’t have just come back.
A deep sense of dread filled your chest as your fingers slowly curled around the cover. You could feel the pull of it again, that same suffocating desire that called to you, whispered to you.
You quickly closed the bag, as if hiding it would make it go away.
How... how was this possible?
Your mind raced, trying to piece it together, but there was no logical explanation. The book had been thrown out. It shouldn’t be here.
And yet, it was.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t in control anymore.
Something was toying with you.
You had just sat down in your next class, trying to focus, but your mind kept wandering. How was it possible? What was happening to you? You barely noticed when the seat beside you shifted, and someone sat down, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts.
You turned your head instinctively, and your breath caught in your throat.
He was... stunning.
Tall, with sharp features and thick eyebrows that gave him an almost commanding presence. A few moles dotted his face, and his eyes were dark, almost mesmerizing, in a way which made your heart race in a way that felt unnatural.
But what really made your stomach flutter was the fact that you’d never seen him before.
Was he in this class?
You racked your brain, trying to recall if you had ever noticed him in the hallways or anywhere else on campus, but nothing came to mind.
He seemed to notice you staring at him, and a sly smile tugged at his lips. He leaned a bit closer, as if he didn’t mind the attention at all, his voice smooth and confident when he spoke.
"Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his tone. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."
He chuckled softly, and you felt a strange sensation wash over you, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was unsettling, but you couldn't quite pinpoint why.
"I'm Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon," he said, his smile widening slightly.
You blinked again, now fully aware of how close he was. "Oh, uh, nice to meet you."
You forced a smile, but your heart was beating too fast. There was something about him, something that felt off—but also familiar.
Why did it feel like he already knew you?
The class went by as usual, the minutes dragging on in a haze. Sunghoon didn't speak much after you introducing yourself, but every now and then, you'd catch him glancing at you, his dark eyes glimmering with something you couldn't quite place. You tried to ignore the unease creeping up your spine and focused on the lesson.
By the time class ended, you were relieved to be able to leave. You needed some time to clear your head.
--
When you arrived at the library, you clocked in and slid behind the counter, but quickly growing bored, you leaned forward and opened the computer, deciding to look up something to distract you. You typed in "demon books," half expecting it to pull up some weird conspiracy theory, but to your surprise, a result popped up. There was a book, right there in the archives—on demons.
Your curiosity flared. This was what you needed.
You grabbed a pen and jotted down the shelf number before heading to the stacks. When you arrived, your eyes searched the shelves, scanning for the number you’d written down. There it was—just out of reach. The book you wanted sat high on the shelf, taunting you. You stretched on your toes, reaching as far as you could, but it was no use. You could feel the frustration rising as you considered your options.
As you were about to give up and turn away, a hand shot up from behind you, effortlessly reaching the book and pulling it down.
You turned around, heart skipping a beat. There, standing just behind you, was Sunghoon. He held the book you had been struggling to get, his expression unreadable.
“Need this?” he asked, his voice casual, almost too smooth.
You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Something about the way he said that sent a strange shiver down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly what you were searching for, as if he had been waiting for you to look it up.
“Thanks,” you said, taking the book from him, but your hand brushed against his for a moment longer than necessary. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand away, your face flushing.
“No problem,” he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “Figured you needed a little help.”
You watched him disappear into the rows of books, and the unease from earlier returned, settling deep into your bones.
--
You don’t even realize what you've walked into, do you? Your deliciousness is like a siren's song, luring me in, and I am a lost soul, destined to follow. I've got you now, and I won't let you go. I'll devour every last piece of you, leaving no part untouched, for you're a feast that I'll savor forever.
Your beauty, it's like a spell, casting a shadow over my heart, and I want to take and take, until you give me everything, for I crave the taste of your soul, the essence of your being.
I think of your skin, smooth as silk, and how it feels under my touch. I imagine the taste of your lips, sweet like nectar, and how they'd satisfy my every craving. I envision your body, and how it yields to my every caress.
I'll trace the map of your body with my hands, my lips, and my heart, marking every inch as my own.
I'll feast on your lips, kiss by kiss, until my soul is satiated. I'll drink from the well of your desire, quench my thirst, and be nourished by your passion. I'll explore the depths of your pleasure, discover the peaks of your ecstasy.
And when I've had my fill, my sweet, I'll still want more. For you're an endless ocean, a bottomless pit of pleasure, and I can never quench my thirst. I'll always want to dive deeper, explore further, and discover more.
--
You stared at the book in your hands as you made your way back to the counter. And once you sat behind the counter, you placed the book down in front of you, the sound of the pages flipping echoing softly in the quiet library.
You opened the book, the musty scent of old pages filling your nose as you began flipping through it, scanning the words and images. Each page was filled with descriptions of various demons, their powers, their origins, and their terrifying abilities. But you kept your focus, searching for the section you had come here for.
Incubus demons.
When you finally reached the right section, your heart pounded in your chest. The words jumped off the page, unsettlingly familiar. It was like the book was confirming everything you had felt and the more you read, the clearer it became that this was no coincidence.
Incubi, it said, were demons who thrived on energy—specifically life force. They were known to seduce their victims, using dreams, lust, and an overwhelming need for intimacy to drain them. They were powerful, manipulating their prey until they were completely drained, their energy absorbed by the demon.
But what caught your eye was the last part.
"Once an incubus claims someone, it forms a bond—one that cannot be easily broken. The victim becomes a vessel, their soul linked to the demon’s for eternity."
You froze, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. Eternity. Was that what had happened to you? Had you unknowingly made a pact with something otherworldly?
You could feel your pulse quicken as your mind raced. Had you been claimed by the demon? Was it already too late to turn back?
You closed the book abruptly, the sound of it thudding against the counter loudly. You couldn’t breathe. Your stomach twisted, and for a brief moment, you thought you might collapse right there.
Just then, you heard a voice, soft but clear, cutting through the storm of thoughts in your head.
"Are you okay?"
You looked up, startled, and saw Sunghoon standing there, a stack of books in his hands. His eyes were searching your face, brows furrowed in concern.
"Uh... yeah, I’m fine," you stammered, trying to act normal. But you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, the words of the book still fresh in your mind. You quickly gathered your composure and grabbed the books from him, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feelings swirling inside you.
You ran the books through the system, scanning the barcodes one by one, all the while acutely aware of how close Sunghoon was standing.
As you glanced down at the books, you couldn't help but notice the titles—all of them were romance novels. It felt... strange. You glanced back at Sunghoon, trying to read his expression.
"Romance, huh?" you said, attempting to make small talk as you finished scanning the last one. "Didn’t peg you for someone into these kinds of books."
He chuckled softly, a low, smooth sound that made your heart skip again. "I’m not really. But, you know, sometimes it's good to pretend."
You blinked, unsure if you were reading too much into the comment. His smile didn’t help—he always had that air of mystery, like he was saying something and nothing at the same time.
"Thanks for helping with the book earlier," you added, trying to steer the conversation back to something neutral. "I appreciate it."
He shrugged, grabbing the books from on the counter. "No problem. Just looking out for you."
The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. It felt like more than just a casual statement. Like he knew something you didn’t. Something you didn’t want to know.
You tried to push the feeling down. You had to stay focused. "Anything else you need?" you asked, attempting to keep things professional.
Sunghoon just smiled again, that strange glimmer in his eyes never fading. "For now, no," he said, his tone teasing. "But I’ll be around."
--
When your shift finally ended, the night had already settled in, the streets now cast in shadows. You clutched your bag tightly as you walked, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Eventually, you found yourself at the bridge, standing on the edge, the water below reflecting the lights.
You opened your bag, pulling out the crimson red book, the one you had tried so desperately to get rid of. As you held it, you could feel something radiating from it—a pull, tempting you to keep it, to keep following.
You shook, unable to tear your gaze away from the book, as if it were alive, trying to draw you into its dark power. What had happened to you? What had you gotten yourself into?
A cold sweat broke out along your spine, and for a moment, you thought you might lose control. With trembling hands, you lifted the book to toss it into the water, ready to rid yourself of it once and for all.
But just as you were about to throw it off the bridge, you heard a voice behind you, low and rough.
"Hey," the voice called out, sending a shiver down your spine.
You froze, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you turned around.
Standing there was a man—a stranger. His features were sharp, his eyes narrowed in a way that made your stomach turn. There was something off about him, something unsettling in the way he watched you. His gaze was degrading, as if he had already sized you up.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?" he asked, his voice slithering through the air.
You instinctively took a step back, clutching the book tighter in your hands, there was no mistaking the way his eyes lingered on you, his stare lingering a little too long.
His lips twisted into a grin, and it made your blood run cold. "You don't look like you're in a hurry to leave."
His tone, that smile—everything about him screamed danger, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you fought the urge to run, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.
Your breath caught in your throat as the man took a step toward you, his hand reaching out with an unsettling determination. This was it. He was going to—
Suddenly, there was a sharp thud, and the man was thrown backward, crashing to the ground with a pained grunt.
You gasped, startled, and watched in disbelief as a familiar figure stepped besides you.
Sunghoon.
Without hesitation, he lunged at the man, throwing a fist that landed with a sickening crack against the stranger’s face. The man tried to scramble to his feet, but Sunghoon was relentless, his fists moving with precision, each punch landing harder than the last. You could hear the force of each strike, the sound of flesh hitting bone. The man barely had a chance to defend himself, crumpling beneath the force of Sunghoon’s blows.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, transfixed by the brutal scene before you. There was something terrifyingly powerful about Sunghoon right now, his movements were swift and calculated, as if he were punishing the man for something more than just the assault on you.
Your hands shook as you held the book tighter to your chest, you didn’t know why, but it felt like it was alive, pulsing in your grip.
The book was vibrating, faintly at first, but then stronger, almost as though it was purring, responding to the violence — to you.
You ignored it, trying to focus on what was happening in front of you. Sunghoon wasn’t stopping, his anger mounting with each punch.
The man on the ground groaned, clearly dazed, unable to defend himself. Finally, Sunghoon stopped, standing over the man, his breath coming in heavy, measured gasps.
"You shouldn’t have done that," Sunghoon said, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze unwavering. He turned to look at you, eyes locking with yours.
You were still frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t make sense of it all. The way Sunghoon was acting, the way he looked at you—it was like he wasn’t the same person you’d met in the library. This was someone else.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice softer now, though there was still a sharpness to it.
You nodded, though your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even find the words to thank him, or to ask why he’d come out of nowhere to help you. Why was he here?
Sunghoon glanced down at the man on the ground, his expression unreadable, before he turned to you again, taking a step closer.
"You’re safe now," he said, his voice more comforting this time, though the intensity never fully left his gaze.
Your hands trembled as you clutched the book tighter, trying to shake off the strange feeling it was giving you.
Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you before he helped you steady yourself.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone lighter, he glanced at the book in your hands, and that smile of his grew, just slightly, as if pleased.
He led you away from the bridge, the cool night air now feeling heavy around you. His presence beside you was comforting, but at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the sense that he was guiding you in more ways than one.
You looked up at him, and he caught your gaze, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Seems like you’ve taken quite the interest in that," he said, his voice soft but with an edge you couldn’t quite place. "You’re holding it tightly."
Your fingers ached as you continued to clutch the book to your chest, your heart still hammering from the encounter. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
"You shouldn’t have to worry anymore," he said, his voice lowering. “You’re safe now.”
Then why did something not feel right? Sunghoon was far too calm, too understanding. As if he already knew everything—everything that had been happening to you.
The way he looked at you, like he was watching, waiting for something.
And for the first time, you realized something that made your stomach twist in unease.
He wasn’t just helping you.
He was guiding you.
--
The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you immediately noticed it. The book was still pressed against your chest, and for the first time, it felt almost suffocating. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding onto it the entire time—your knuckles white. It was like it had become a part of you, and that realization twisted something deep within your gut.
You couldn't stand it anymore.
Without even thinking, you hurled the book against the wall, your heart racing as the impact caused it to thud loudly, the book sliding to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat, as if your body had finally caught up to the chaos inside your mind.
For a moment, there was silence. The book lay on the floor, the cover staring up at you, as if mocking your decision. But you were too exhausted to care anymore. Too worn out by everything that had happened.
You stumbled fowards, your legs giving way, and before you knew it, you were sinking onto the couch. Your mind was foggy, too tired to think. Your body ached, your head pounded, but the exhaustion was overpowering. The last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut was the book, sitting on the floor.
And the only thing you could think of as you drifted off was how you felt that it wasn’t done with you yet.
--
You felt so... relaxed? It was like your body was weightless, wrapped in warmth and comfort. The air was thick, almost too hot, and the bed beneath you felt too soft, like sinking into a cloud. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. A grand queen-sized bed stretched out beneath you, luxurious sheets tangled around your legs.
Your head was still foggy, like you were waking from a deep, dreamless sleep. But the discomfort of the heat around you was immediate, and you instinctively pushed the covers away, trying to breathe through the thick air.
That’s when you felt it.
A weight on your body, pressing down, holding you where you lay. Your breath hitched as the sensation of someone’s lips—warm, urgent—pressed against yours. The shock of it made your chest tighten, and you gasped, eyes wide as you tried to push the figure off of you, only to find you couldn’t move.
A voice, soft but laced with something darker, echoed in your mind, almost like a whisper, “Give in.”
Your body stiffened, the words familiar yet chilling. The lips on yours were insistent, coaxing you into submission. You couldn't understand—how did you get here? Why was everything so warm? And why did you feel this strange pull?
The kiss deepened as your breath quickened, and the moment your hands tried to reach above you, they tightened their grip. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think.
You wanted to push away. You wanted to scream. But you couldn’t. You were trapped in this sensation, helpless.
You felt so good. So pleasant. Every part of you hummed with a warmth, an overwhelming comfort, like sinking into the softest dream. But with it came an exhaustion, a draining weariness you couldn't fight.
As the lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw, trailing soft, slow kisses, you felt your body go limp beneath them. You tried to stay alert, to keep your mind sharp, but the sensation was too much. The warmth, the pleasure, it was like it was melting you from the inside out. Your energy, your strength, seemed to vanish with every kiss, every press of lips against your sensitive skin. You couldn't fight it. It felt too good.
A small gasp escaped your lips as they moved lower, their touch leaving a trail of warmth on your neck, then your collarbone. The sensation was both soothing and dizzying, like you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep. You felt so tired, but the pleasure pulling you under kept you from fully giving in.
Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, quickening with each new kiss, each lingering touch. The sound of your breath was louder than the rest of the world, but even that was fading. You could barely hold onto your thoughts, the desire to move, to push, slipped further and further away.
And then you realized—there was nothing you could do. You didn’t want to.
You felt something deep inside you stir, a craving, a hunger that matched the pull of the lips against your skin. You were being drained, yes, but it also felt like it was what you needed.
You closed your eyes, surrendering to it. You let your body go, let the exhaustion wash over you, let yourself fall into the warmth of the kiss. You didn’t even care where it was leading anymore.
You felt your body give in completely as the lips on your neck paused, lingering there, and you could hear the soft hum of approval, a low sound of satisfaction. And just like that, it was too late to resist.
As you surrendered to the moment, the hands, ever so gently, pushed your shirt up, exposing more of your skin, as the heat in the room seemed to rise.
The lips, now free to explore, trailed kisses down your stomach, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands slid down to your waist, he squeezed gently, pulling you closer, and you felt his body press against yours.
You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Your body was giving in, responding to him, reacting in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. It was as though you were caught in a web, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
His lips moved from your neck, tracing the sensitive line of your jaw before they found your lips again, kissing you. The kiss was hungry now, deeper. You felt his hands tighten around you, as though he couldn’t get close enough, as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
And somehow, it felt... right.
You felt so hazy, your mind clouded by a warm, soothing fog that made it impossible to think clearly. Everything was blurred, all thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. The weight of your body felt distant, like you were floating. You couldn’t move your limbs, couldn’t even feel them anymore.
The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of the lips that pressed gently against yours, warm and insistent. Every time they left, it felt like you were waiting, craving the return of that contact. And when they did, you kissed them back instinctively, your lips parting slightly to welcome them.
"Let go," it murmured softly, the sound of it like silk against your mind. "Enjoy this. Let the pleasure take over. You deserve it."
You shivered, feeling the warmth of the words settle deep inside you, pushing aside any lingering doubts, any hesitation. The voice continued, coaxing you, convincing you that this feeling, this moment, was all that mattered. That you didn’t need to resist, that you could simply surrender and feel everything without fear.
There was no fight left in you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely at peace. You didn’t have to think, you didn’t have to worry— just the feeling of being taken care of, loved, and wanted.
You closed your eyes, lost in the comfort, the warmth, and the voice that guided you deeper into the haze.
--
You woke up suddenly, your mind heavy, still clouded in a haze, and found yourself lying on the couch. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog, and as you looked around, everything seemed perfectly normal.
One thing wasn't normal, though. It was the warmth, the sticky, almost suffocating heat clinging to your skin, like honey trapping you in its sweetness. The sensation was odd, and it was paired with an exhaustion that weighed you down, a tiredness so deep you could barely keep your eyes open.
You managed to sit up and push yourself to your feet, dragging yourself to the bathroom, needing to see your reflection, needing to understand what was happening. The mirror greeted you with an unexpected shock.
Your neck and collarbone were covered in marks—deep, almost bruised-looking impressions, some faint, others dark, like someone had pressed their lips into your skin too hard, leaving their mark. You barely recognized the face staring back at you. Your cheeks were flushed, the kind of flush you’d never get from just a long day, and your eyes looked distant.
You kept staring at your reflection, eyes wide in disbelief, and slowly pulled your shirt off, but what greeted you beneath your clothes made your breath catch in your throat.
Handprints. Dark, unmistakable imprints stretched across your waist, your hips, and even down to your thighs. It was like someone had gripped you there with force, leaving their mark on your skin, as if they couldn’t resist claiming every part of you.
You stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. The more you looked, the more it seemed to confirm your theory.
An incubus had done this.
But the memories were murky, like a dream fading in the light of day. You couldn't remember the specifics, but the evidence was undeniable.
You were cursed.
The thought sent a shiver through your body. There was no other explanation. It was all pointing to something beyond your control, something that wanted you, that had claimed you.
But what did it want from you? Why you?
The mirror reflected your confusion, your unease, and your disbelief. Your hand instinctively reached up to touch the marks, your fingers brushing lightly over your skin. Each touch sent a wave of heat through you, a reminder that something was still there, still affecting you, even when you had no idea what was really going on.
--
Days passed in a strange blur after that. Each time you tried to focus, tried to pull yourself together, the exhaustion dragged you down further. You couldn’t remember when it had started, when your body began to feel like it was no longer your own, but it was now a part of your reality. Every night, you’d find yourself drifting off to sleep, only to wake up once again in that grand bed, under the same warmth, your body burning.
The familiar sensation of lips on yours, the heat of his hands—each kiss drained you, leaving you weak and confused. It felt as though the very life force was being sucked out of you, but you were too tired to resist. Too tired to care. The next morning, you would wake up again, just as exhausted, with the marks on your skin deepening, the imprint of his touch still there. You tried to push through the haze, but it felt like you were walking through quicksand.
And then there was Sunghoon.
He was there for you in ways you couldn’t explain. It started small—offering to walk you to class, making sure you ate something, checking in on you when you seemed too tired to function. You didn’t fight it. You were too exhausted to.
You would often find yourself slumped at the counter, fighting to keep your eyes open, and there he was, showing up with something to drink or a comforting word, offering you a brief respite from the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to cling to your every movement. You didn’t realize at first that you were relying on him, leaning on him without question.
But Sunghoon didn’t mind. In fact, he thrived in this new dynamic, in your dependence on him. He reveled in the way you’d look to him for comfort, for answers, for protection. You didn’t know how much it fed into his desires, how much he enjoyed being the one to offer you care, to have you rely on him completely.
And you? You were too tired to notice. Too lost in the fog of exhaustion, the haze of what was happening to you.
But.. the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the more you began to notice the oddities that you’d once brushed off. He was always there, always watching, always making sure you were okay. But something about him felt... off. It wasn’t just his constant attention—it was the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, before you even asked for it. It was the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, his smile a little too knowing, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did.
Then, there was the issue with his past. Sunghoon never spoke about it. When you asked about his family or where he grew up, his answers were vague, brushing off the topic with a quick change of subject. No traces of a life outside of the moments he spent with you.
It didn’t make sense. You had seen him around campus, so you knew he wasn’t a complete ghost. But there were no photos, no friends tagging him on social media, no history to trace. He was just... there. As if he had stepped out of nowhere and appeared in your life, and now he was all you could focus on.
Something about him felt wrong, and the pieces were starting to fall into place. But you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning on him, allowing him to take care of you. You didn’t know what to think anymore, especially since you were so tired, so lost in the fog of exhaustion that you couldn’t tell if your thoughts were your own or if they were being influenced by something else.
So, you decided to test your theory—to see what would happen if you suddenly started ignoring him. It wasn’t easy. Sunghoon always seemed to find a way to be around you, whether it was sitting next to you in class or showing up at the library while you worked. But you were determined. You stopped texting him back, avoided his gaze, and made excuses to leave whenever he tried to engage you in conversation.
At first, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He would simply smile when you dodged him, as if he already knew why you were doing it. That unnerved you more than anything else. It was like he could see right through you, like he knew your thoughts before you did.
But as the days went on, his demeanor started to shift. His smiles became tighter, his gaze colder, and the once-comforting presence he exuded started to feel suffocating. He wasn’t following you outright, but every time you turned a corner, you’d catch him in your peripheral vision—leaning against a wall, walking just a few steps behind you, always near enough to remind you that he was there.
One night, after a particularly long shift at the library, you came home and collapsed onto your couch, exhaustion washing over you. The moment you closed your eyes, you found yourself back in that bed again.
But this time, there was a whisper. A deep, seductive voice you hadn’t heard before.
"You can’t ignore me forever."
Your eyes snapped open, your heart pounding. You were back on your couch, drenched in sweat, and your hands were trembling. You instinctively gripped the edge of the couch as you tried to ground yourself, but the tremor in your fingers betrayed how shaken you really were. The room was quiet—too quiet. It felt as though something was watching you, just out of sight.
Your gaze darted toward the windows, scanning for any sign of movement, but the curtains were still drawn shut. Slowly, you reached for your phone on the coffee table, wanting the comfort of a light, a distraction—anything. As the screen lit up, you noticed the time. 3:03 a.m.
And then you saw it.
A single notification. It wasn’t from anyone in your contacts, just an unknown number. You hesitated before opening it, dread settling in your stomach like a lead weight. The message read:
"Stop running."
You dropped the phone as though it had burned you, the clatter breaking the suffocating silence. Your breaths came shallow and quick as you stared at the device, afraid it would light up again.
No. This had to stop.
You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom, your legs weak beneath you. Splashing cold water on your face, you tried to steady your breathing.
You gripped the edge of the sink, your knuckles turning white as you leaned forward, staring at your pale reflection in the mirror. Your breaths came shallow and uneven as you tried to process everything.
It didn’t make sense—none of it did. But your thoughts kept circling back to Sunghoon. His perfect timing, his uncanny presence, the way he seemed to know more than he let on.
Your throat felt dry as you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to say it.
“Sunghoon?”
The sound of his name echoed faintly in the small bathroom. You waited, holding your breath, your heart pounding louder and louder in your chest. Nothing happened.
For a moment, you felt ridiculous, like you were spiraling into paranoia. You let out a shaky exhale and closed your eyes, trying to collect yourself. But then, just as you started to relax, you felt it.
A heat began to radiate behind you, warm and heavy, pressing against your back like a presence. The air shifted, and before you could react, a soft whisper brushed against your ear.
“Did you miss me?”
Your eyes snapped open, wide with terror, as you froze in place. The mirror reflected nothing behind you, but the heat remained, and the voice lingered, teasingly low and intimate.
“Y-you’re not real,” you stammered, gripping the sink tighter, refusing to turn around.
The voice chuckled, soft and amused. “Oh, but I am. You called me, didn’t you? Thinking of me? Dreaming of me?”
A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth seemed to creep closer, pressing against you like an invisible embrace. You gasped, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of whatever was behind you.
“I-I wasn’t—”
“Liar,” the voice interrupted, a trace of playfulness in its tone. “You’ve been looking for answers, haven’t you?”
You felt something brush against your shoulder, light as a feather but enough to make your skin tingle. Your breathing quickened as the sensation spread, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.
“Stop,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
But the voice only hummed in response, low and pleased. “You can’t run from me. You’ve known that all along.”
“I never wanted this!” you shouted, your voice trembling but firm, defiance breaking through your fear. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”
The air around you grew colder, and suddenly a hand—a firm, invisible grip—wrapped around your throat. You gasped, your hands flying up instinctively to claw at nothing.
“Oh, but you did,” the voice purred, smooth and dark, vibrating through the room. The grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your pulse race, but not enough to harm you. It was a warning.
“You put this on yourself the moment you read the words in that book,” the voice hissed, hot breath fanning over your ear. “Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum. Do you even know what that means?”
You shook your head frantically, tears pricking at your eyes as you struggled against the phantom hand holding you in place. The voice chuckled, low and condescending.
“It means, ‘Who reads me, let our bond be eternal.’ You invited me in.”
Your breath hitched as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. The book. The book in the basement. The words you read aloud.
“That’s not possible,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “It’s just a stupid book. It—it can’t be real!”
The laughter that followed was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, it’s very real. And now, so am I.”
In the mirror, the reflection began to change. The shadow behind you shifted, growing more defined, more solid. Your eyes widened in horror as the silhouette morphed, taking shape, and then—
There he was.
Sunghoon.
Your heart stopped. You couldn’t believe it, but there was no mistaking him. The sharp jawline, the intense gaze, the faint smirk curling his lips. It was him.
Sunghoon stood behind you, his hand still firmly around your throat, his touch searing and impossible to ignore. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, and you shivered under the weight.
“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, panic rising in your chest. “This— you’re not—”
“Not what?” Sunghoon interrupted, tilting his head as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not human? Not the man who’s been taking care of you? Or not the one who’s been in your dreams, night after night?”
You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The pieces were falling into place, but they painted a picture you didn’t want to see.
“You were so lonely,” Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now, almost tender. “So desperate for someone to understand you. And I came to you, didn’t I? Gave you exactly what you needed.”
His hand on your waist tightened slightly, his grip on your throat loosening just enough for you to take a shaky breath.
“But you’re scared now. Why?” he asked, his tone almost teasing, as if he already knew the answer. “You’ve enjoyed this, haven’t you? The attention, the way I’ve made you feel.”
“No,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You tricked me. This isn’t what I wanted.”
Sunghoon’s smirk widened, his reflection in the mirror impossibly calm, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.
“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “But you can’t lie to me.”
“We’re bound now, you and I,” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with finality. “You can’t run from me. You can’t hide. And deep down, you don’t want to.”
You stared at him in the mirror, your chest heaving, your mind screaming for you to fight back, to do something, anything. But your body betrayed you, frozen in place as Sunghoon’s reflection smiled, dark and triumphant.
His grip tightened around your arms as he suddenly spun you around effortlessly, your back slamming against the cold countertop. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the impact sent a jolt through your body, and you found yourself face to face with him.
Only... it wasn’t entirely him.
Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you took in his appearance. Sunghoon was still the same—his sharp features, his impossibly handsome face—but now, his true form was on full display.
Two curved, jet-black horns protruded from his head, his ears were pointed, inhumanly sharp, twitching slightly as though attuned to every sound you made. A pair of massive, leathery wings stretched out behind him. His skin held a faint reddish tint now, and his eyes...
They weren’t what you’d grown accustomed to.
They were blood-red, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak.
As your gaze traveled lower, you caught sight of a sleek black tail swishing behind him, the pointed tip moving back and forth like a serpent poised to strike.
“Like what you see?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low and smooth, laced with amusement.
You couldn’t answer. Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you stared up at him, utterly frozen. He leaned in closer, the heat radiating from him making it even harder to think, to breathe.
“You should’ve known,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve felt it. I’ve been hiding in plain sight this whole time, waiting for you to figure it out.”
“Sunghoon...” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you tried to push him away, but your arms felt like they were moving through water—slow, weak, powerless.
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat flooding through your chest. “Still clinging to the illusion, huh? Poor thing.”
His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with an almost tender touch.
“This is the real me,” he said softly, his voice dripping with dangerous charm. “And now that you’ve seen it, there’s no going back.” His wings shifted slightly behind him, the sound making your stomach twist in unease. His tail flicked once, curling against your leg in a way that made your skin crawl—and, to your shame, sent a strange warmth pooling in your chest.
“You’re lying,” you said weakly, your voice barely audible. “This isn’t happening...”
Sunghoon tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to make it even more unsettling. “Lying?” he repeated, his voice almost offended. “Sweet thing, everything I’ve done has been the truth. You just didn’t want to see it.”
He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his red eyes locking onto yours with a hypnotic intensity. “But now you can’t ignore it, can you? You can’t ignore me.”
You gasped, your body trembling as his tail coiled tighter around your leg, holding you in place. “You belong to me now,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice final. “And nothing will change that.”
You clenched your eyes shut, your entire body trembling as you willed it all to disappear. You thought maybe—just maybe—if you denied it long enough, it would go away. That he would go away.
But it didn’t work.
Instead, you heard his low, amused chuckle. The sound was rich and dark, crawling into your ears and embedding itself into your mind.
“You can’t escape me,” he murmured. And before you could protest, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath and overwhelming your senses.
The kiss was searing, a fire that burned its way through your body and left you paralyzed. It wasn’t soft or careful—it was commanding, leaving no room for resistance.
Sunghoon...
Sunghoon was an incubus.
Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight, but your body wouldn’t listen. The warmth from his lips spread through you like molten lava, making you weak, making you feel... good. Too good.
You tried to turn your head, to break the connection, but his hand gripped your jaw firmly, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees feel like jelly, and the heat radiating off him felt almost suffocating.
When he finally pulled back, your head spun, your breaths shallow and uneven. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the satisfaction etched across his face.
“See?” he purred, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re not resisting me.”
You shook your head weakly, trying to deny it. “You’re not... I won’t...” you stammered, but even as the words left your lips, they sounded hollow.
Sunghoon leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You already gave yourself to me the moment you opened that book.”
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his words. You’d read the words without understanding what they meant, unknowingly binding yourself to him.
“You belong to me now,” he said, his voice soft but firm, his hand trailing down to rest on your waist. “No running. No escaping.”
His tail flicked lazily at his side, as if he were toying with you, enjoying your fear and confusion.
“I’ll take care of you,” Sunghoon continued, his tone shifting to something almost... tender. “You won’t need anyone else. You won’t want anyone else.”
You clenched your fists, trying to fight against the pull he had on you, the way his words seemed to seep into your mind like poison.
“What do you want from me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I already have what I want,” he said simply, his hand tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away. “You.”
His hand slid up to your throat again, his grip firm but not enough to hurt—just enough to remind you who was in control. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, and before you could think or protest, his lips captured yours again.
This time, the kiss was more intense. It was intoxicating, a dizzying, heady sensation that left you feeling drunk and high at the same time, though there wasn’t a hint of nausea.
Instead, you felt consumed, like your body and mind were being submerged in a warm ocean. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.
Your hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter behind you, trying to ground yourself, but the heat only grew. It curled in your stomach, spread up your spine, and flooded every corner of your being.
Sunghoon’s lips left yours only briefly, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed down your jaw, tracing a path to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
You couldn’t respond, your head spinning, your body trembling. Every word he spoke seemed to sink into your skin, fusing with your very being.
He chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your ear. “No one else can make you feel like this. No one else can take care of you like I can.”
When he finally pulled back, his red eyes burned into yours, glowing with satisfaction.
“Say it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your pulse. “Say you’re mine.”
You hesitated, your lips parting, but no words came out. Your mind was a swirling mess of emotions, torn between the primal pull he had over you and the small flicker of defiance still burning in your chest.
Sunghoon leaned closer, his smirk returning as he tilted your chin up slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll say it soon enough.”
With that, he released you, stepping back just enough to let you breathe, though the heat still clung to your skin like a second layer. Your knees felt weak, your body trembling, and you gripped the counter to keep from collapsing.
“Rest for now,” he said, his tone almost affectionate. “We’ll see each other again soon.”
And with a flick of his tail and a low hum of satisfaction, he vanished, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bathroom, your body still warm and your mind reeling from what had just happened.
--
It didn’t take long for you to realize that Sunghoon’s persistence wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation—it was something far deeper. When an incubus claimed a human, it seemed, their desire turned into a relentless obsession. Sunghoon took every opportunity to have you, to pull you into the haze of his presence, leaving you breathless and weak in his wake.
In the library, you were shelving books in the far corner, but then, you felt it—the familiar warmth crawling up your spine. Before you could turn, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around and pressing you against the shelf.
“Sunghoon—” you started, but your words were cut off as his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry.
The books nearly toppled from the shelf as his body pinned you in place. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before lifting you up effortlessly, your back pressed to the shelf. His kisses left you dizzy, your hands clinging to his shoulders for balance as his lips trailed down your jaw, his voice low murmurs.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body trembling. He smiled, his red eyes glowing faintly. “Couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
In the kitchen, you thought you’d have a moment of peace as you cooked dinner, but of course, he appeared again.
You didn’t even hear him approach before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter.
“Sunghoon!” you protested, but your voice wavered as his lips found yours, silencing any resistance.
His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them slightly as he stood between them, his kisses consuming. The heat of the stove was nothing compared to the fire he ignited in you with every touch.
“You taste better than anything you’re cooking,” he teased against your lips, as you shivered under his touch.
Even in class, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. At first, it was subtle—a hand resting on your thigh under the desk. But his touch was anything but innocent. His fingers pressed into your skin, his grip firm enough to leave an imprint through the fabric of your jeans.
One day, you made the mistake of wearing a skirt to class. His reaction was immediate.
His eyes darkened the moment he saw you, his gaze lingering on your legs with a hunger. The skirt seemed to drive him wild, and he didn’t bother to hide the want in his eyes as he took the seat beside you.
During the lecture, his hand found its way to your thigh again, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your bare skin. Every touch sent shivers up your spine, your pulse quickening as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
You didn’t answer, your face burning as you tried to focus on the professor’s voice. But Sunghoon wasn’t letting you off so easily. His hand slid higher, just enough to make you squirm in your seat.
By the end of class, you were a mess, your legs trembling as you tried to stand. Sunghoon, of course, looked perfectly composed.
But one event made you realize just how far Sunghoon's obsession had gone happened unexpectedly.
You had just finished getting ready, dressed to go out to the club, your outfit on point, and your makeup perfectly done. You were about to put on some music for the drive when suddenly, you heard a soft hum from behind you.
The sound was so familiar, so calming that you couldn’t help but pause. The familiar haze crept in, clouding your thoughts. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt a shift in your surroundings. The next thing you knew, you were no longer sitting in the front seat of your car but instead found yourself in the backseat, sitting on Sunghoon's lap.
“You going somewhere?” he asked, his voice smooth, leaning back, his eyes filled with contentment. He seemed to be enjoying the view of you on his lap, your body pressed against his, all dressed up.
You were about to move off, muttering to yourself about how utterly stupid this situation was.
However, before you could push him away, Sunghoon's hands went around your hips. He pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours, and then, with a sudden thrust, he lifted you off his lap.
The movement was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. You let out a surprised squeal as you found yourself being moved to lay down on the backseat. Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing down on yours, his eyes filled with a fiery passion.
You were on the brink of speaking, your mind filled with thoughts you wanted to express, when suddenly, Sunghoon's lips crashed down on yours, silencing your words in an instant.
His lips, soft yet demanding, devoured yours, a perfect blend of tenderness and dominance. Sunghoon groaned into the kiss, a deep, raw sound that reverberated through your core. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. And as his kiss deepened, you felt him wrap your legs around his hips. You could feel the heat of his body, the solidness of his muscles, and the intensity.
You felt a sudden urge to pull away, to regain some sense of control and composure. With a gentle push, you tried to create some distance between you and Sunghoon. But Sunghoon, ever attuned to your every move, wasn’t about to let you escape so easily. As you tried to shift, reaching for the car door, his hands swiftly grabbed your waist, his strong arms pulling you closer. His chest pressed against your back, and you turned your head, your breath quickening as Sunghoon leaned over, his face now inches from yours.
His voice, soft and teasing, broke through your thoughts. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his tone low, almost playful.
You couldn’t find the words to answer, but you could feel the heat rising between you.
Sunghoon, sensing your hesitation, nuzzled his face against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The soft touch of his lips traced a path along your neck, sending a jolt of warmth through you. You shivered at the sensation, unable to stop the flutter in your chest.
"Sunghoon..." you breathed, trying to push him away again, but his hands tightened around your waist. He didn’t let you move, holding you there.
He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You want me to slow down?” he teased, his voice amused.
You swallowed hard, feeling the heat between you both. The car, once cool, now felt stifling, the air thick. You glanced over at the windows, noticing that the glass had fogged up, the condensation creeping in.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tried to focus, but it was hard with him so near, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel him pressed against your back, his hands still holding you close.
“Sunghoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely a breath, caught between uncertainty and desire. You shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but he gently tugged you back, his lips hovering just above your ear.
“Why resist?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it, a quiet demand. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending another shiver down your spine. “We both know you don’t want to.”
The fog on the windows seemed to grow thicker, the air growing warmer with every passing second, as if the space between you was becoming smaller.
You didn’t answer him right away, just closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to clear your mind.
But Sunghoon's voice broke the silence as he gazed at you. "You look perfect," he said, his eyes roving over your body, taking in every detail. "So delectable, it's as if you're offering yourself on a silver platter."
His hands, which had been resting on your waist, slowly slid downwards, tracing the curves of your hips with a gentle touch.
"I want to ruin your makeup," he said, his voice low. "I want to mark you as mine, to leave my touch on you."
His hands, which had been gently caressing your body, suddenly tightened around your hips. With a swift movement, he flipped you over, and you found yourself lying on your back, staring up at him with surprise.
"I want to look at you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to see your beautiful face, your eyes, your lips, as I kiss you."
His lips, soft yet demanding, pressed against yours, a perfect show of passion. His hands roamed freely, tracing the curves of your body. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, a gentle caress that sent a rush of pleasure through your body.
Guess this is what happens when you get claimed by an incubus in love.
a/n: well.. i have no other words. this had been sitting in my drafts for awhile so, yeah :)
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please bestie i want some soft love that's so second nature joe doesnt even have his attention with you whilst he gives it, please can you write something like that?
im not allowed to write right now because work and stress and boundaries and mental health etc etc so 🥰fuck you🥰 for this Wordcount: 1.8K
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Cotton Soft Touches Gentle Voices Smooth
“What are you doing?”
You barely even heard Joe ask the question from across the room. You were so buried in whatever was happening on TV, focus completely zoomed in, mind somewhere else entirely. It took Joe another try for you to register the question directed at you.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Hmm?” you turned your head to Joe before your eyes followed and for a moment, you just slowly blinked at him. Something about his face combined with the fact that it really took you a minute to find yourself back in the room made you smile. You were so cosy.
“Watching TV.” you answered innocently, because you were, eyes back on the screen already.
You were warmly nestled into the sofa, curled up, knees pulled in, all comfortable in your white ribbed cotton pyjamas. The throwpillows and blankets on the sofa created the perfect nest for you to happily curl up into.
Snug.
Soft ambient light from several lamps placed in strategic corners lit up the room just enough. If you stood and opened the curtains a bit more, you could still catch the faint and fading oranges of the sunset.
You were shower fresh, limbs covered by white clean cotton, nose still a little cold from the difference in temperature after getting out of the hot stream, and wet hair cool where it touched your skin.
But you felt so warm.
So fucking cosy.
When you’d walked back into the living room post shower, skin glossy and wet hair brushed back, Joe had installed himself at the dinner table with his laptop and a notebook.
He’d cleared away the mess from dinner and had turned his spot into a desk.
“Just need to do these e-mails,” he said after you’d let your arms curl around him from behind, arms that he grabbed hold of for a second, and you kissed the top of his head.
“Will only be a minute.”
You’d left him to it then, not minding that Joe had some work to do, just happy that he was in the same room instead of hidden away in what he called the office and you called the guest bedroom.
The ‘only a minute’ easily turned into an hour plus. Joe kept busy on both his computer and his phone, and would sometimes scribble some things down onto paper. There was a phone call or two, just quick “Sorry to call so late, but have you seen the...” and, “Hey, yea, I'm just reading it now, can I call you back in a minute?” type things.
Joe became background noise to you the second you snuggled up, and similarly the low sounds coming from the TV were just a nice reminder that Joe wasn’t alone.
But then, halfway through typing a response to an e-mail, something in Joe’s peripheral vision caught his attention.
Something moving slowly.
A little rhythmically.
When he peeked over his laptop screen and saw his girlfriend looking just about the most comfortable she’d ever looked, he didn’t even think you were aware that you were doing it.
In your layers of soft cream fabrics, head slumped to the side, Joe saw how you let your fingers softly skim over the area below your ear. They danced in circles and lines by your jaw, onto your cheek just a little before trailing back to your neck and—
That was what Joe always did.
That’s where Joe let his fingers draw shapes.
He would brush some hair from your face and would then let his fingertips linger, and it always made you hum. Made you relax. Gave you tingles that made your hearing go funny for a second.
Joe watched you lazily self soothe, and after a moment he decided that he’d actually done enough work. He could finish this e-mail tomorrow.
“What are you doing?”
“Hmm? Watching TV.”
Your eyes were back on the screen before Joe could’ve even said anything about how you were touching yourself.
It was nothing sexual - not really. Not what he was witnessing right now anyway. He imagined it just felt nice.
He closed his laptop and got up from his seat, and without looking away from the TV, you moved to make space for Joe next to you, knowing he’d make his way over to press himself into your side.
Joe smiled as you moved blankets aside but kept that one hand near your ear, index finger mapping out your hairline towards the nape of your neck and back.
Instead of sitting down though, Joe pushed a knee into the sofa right next to your thigh and placed his fingers right were yours were, pushing them aside.
“I do this,” Joe said as he hovered over you, and you grinned as you let your head fall to the side more. “This is my job.”
Joe tickled his fingers along your soft skin, fresh and clean from the shower, and it only took a few seconds for you to sigh into his touch.
It was nicer when Joe did it.
“S’nice?” Joe murmured, still with just one knee on the sofa, and you hummed, eyes closed, nodding.
“Is nicer when you do it.”
“Yea?”
Joe leant forward to press a kiss to your cheek, getting you just under your eye, and then he moved to sit down next to you.
After a shuffle of throws, pillows, and limbs, you found yourself under Joe’s arm, curled up into his side.
You were comfortable before, but this would always be infinitely better.
“Hmm, you smell nice.” Joe commented after taking a moment to press his nose into your still damp hair.
“Yea? What do I smell like? Shampoo?” you whispered, voice not wanting to be any louder.
Joe easily bit, taking the invitation to get another real good whiff of you, his whole face now pressing into the crook of your neck.
You relished the attention, feeling fuzzy on the inside, heat blooming in your chest.
“Yea, sort of lemony… all fresh and clean.”
You blushed and were unable to hide your smile as you settled together for some TV watching, warm bodies pressed together, always fitting just right somehow.
Joe’s arm rested on the back of the sofa and bent around your head just right for his fingers to play. To touch the skin around your ear like you’d been doing before. To lightly trail and leave goosebumps down your whole body.
You could easily fall asleep like this, legs intertwined, head on his chest.
You lazily watched TV in silence for a while and if Joe was going to keep up the barely there shapes drawn down your neck you knew you actually would fall asleep.
It was becoming difficult to keep your eyes open, every blink a comfortable invitation to just keep them closed, but then the soft buzzing of Joe’s phone pulled you both from your haze.
Joe had your earlobe in between his fingers when he answered, and for a moment you were fully expecting him to get up. Move to where his laptop lay shut to open it once more to maybe finish something he hadn’t yet.
But when you tried to sit up a little for Joe to slip out of this cocoon you’d created, you felt his arm tense. He wasn’t letting go of the soft skin of your ear and to make sure you stayed put, he bent a leg to keep yours in place.
“It’s past ten, mate,” Joe answered and although you didn’t know who was calling him, just from his tone of voice you knew it wasn’t work related.
Joe gently rubbed your earlobe between his fingers and it felt so nice, it turned the world blurry as you unfocused your eyes.
When you relaxed back into him, sinking into the line of his body, Joe tilted his head down to look at you, barely catching your little smile but happy to see you were still enticed by whatever was happening on TV.
You weren’t though.
Not really.
Because as Joe spoke, he let his fingers continue what they’d been doing and if he thought you were able to try to follow his conversation as well as what you were watching whilst he made you melt with his touch, he was wrong.
You were bad at multitasking on a good day, and you knew Joe was too. The fact that he was somehow able to keep you lax and floating whilst simultaneously being mentally present for this phone call was impressive.
Joe laughed through casual conversation with a friend who had some questions about future plans they’d made. Their chat quickly turned into a hey-now-that-I’ve-got-you-on-the-phone catch up.
The low vibrations from his smooth voice were nice. You felt them where your face rested on his chest and relished in the tender love you were receiving that felt like a second nature sort of thing.
“No, I’m just at home. Watching TV.”
Not being mentioned suddenly made Joes fingers feel a little scandalous. Like the person on the phone wasn’t allowed to know you were there and how he was making you feel right now.
It got a little worse when you felt how Joe let his fingers trail down your neck to disappear into your pyjama top where they slowly caressed over your collarbone.
Your voice let a little noise escape when his hand snuck back up again, finding its way into your hair, and Joe chuckled lowly.
You let yourself balance on the borders of consciousness, half asleep with thoughts so far removed from where you were, yet half laser focused on Joe’s fingers and where they tickled your skin.
Unsure of when you’d drifted off, or when Joe had finished his phone call, the next thing you registered was a soft and low far away, “Have I done a plait?” that pulled you back into the room a little more.
With your eyes still closed you reached a heavy hand up to feel what was essentially just a twirled strand of hair, not a plait at all.
You couldn’t hide the little smile that spread at how adorable you thought it was that Joe’d just been playing with your hair and thought he’d actually done something.
He hadn’t.
He just made you feel loved, which was actually far better than a plait.
“Mhm,” you hummed approvingly, snuggling up into Joe more, understanding that it was likely much smarter to just get up and find your way into bed, but you’d quite literally never been more comfortable before.
“I’ve done a plait.” Joe whispered, gleefully proud of himself and making sure that you knew, that you’d heard him, give him some praise.
“Well done.” You lied, because he’d not done a plait, but that was okay.
You weren’t going to shoot yourself in the foot, because you were about to sink back into sleep and there was just one thing that’d make you feel even more comfortable.
That would send you right back off into sleep.
“Do another.”
---
The Taglisted
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add yourself
#joe quinn#joseph quinn#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfiction#joe quinn x Y/N#joseph quinn x Y/N#icallhimjoey#cotton soft touches gentle voices smooth
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𐙚 : 'CATCHING YOU USING YOUR PLUSHIE TO GET OFF' ( reaction ) ֶָ֢ !
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e506b35899d7a707fb423773b625ff97/71b7d83f2aaca5d1-41/s250x250_c1/85acf4b09aa35c9f284b07516ab2d2abe2e23a1e.jpg)
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request: can i request enha legal line catching u red handed grinding on the plushie they gifted you
authors note. i hope you like it 💛
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
𐙚 : HEESEUNG ֶָ֢ !
he'll be surprised , you're getting off to the bear he bought you? your clit swollen desperate to be touched , he didn't even bother to watch you through the door, pushing the bedroom door open. "no please don't stop." he bit his lip , sitting down , his cock hard against his jeans , pulling it out. "fuck im so hard." his hands came up to your clit , rubbing circles. "that's it -fuck- keep humping that bear baby." he stroked his cock with the other hand, matching your pace. "oh fuck im gonna cum , cum with me." he whimpered both of you cumming at the same time. he quickly took the bear , throwing it , pushing you back against the bed; his cock bobbing against his stomach.
"you don't need that bear baby , use me, use my cock to make yourself cum."
𐙚 : JAY ֶָ֢ !
coming home from a long day at work, ready to spend the rest of the night with his favorite girl , only to find you in bed , in one of his shirts— one of your tits out as you rutted your hips against the stuffed animal, moaning his name. "did i say you could do that?" your body froze hearing his name. "i-im sorry, i was needy." you stuttered. "so you get off with out my permission." he said walking into the room , unbuttoning his shirt. "pl-please help." you whimpered. "uh uh baby." he sat down in the chair next to your bed. "you don't make the rules , i do." he said. "now keep going, i wanna see you cum all over that nice bear i got you." he watched you with low eyes.
"make yourself cum and i'll determine if i let you cum on my cock."
𐙚 : JAKE ֶָ֢ !
he watched you through the door , palming his hard cock through his jeans , biting his lip to keep himself from moaning and you catching him. he could've just opened the door and walked in , but it was too hot to him , watch you boobs bounce as you desperately tried to reach your peak on the teddy bear he gifted you for christmas, your head thrown back; squeezing your tits as you rocked your hips against the bear. he almost came in his pants when your mouth dropped open , thighs shaking as you came all over the stuffed animals, cursing as you desperately tried to catch your breath, having enough and feeling like he was gonna blow his load in his pants , he pushed the door open, catching you off guard. "jake!" you tried to hide yourself.
"don't hide bay , i need you to ride my cock just like you did that bear."
𐙚 : SUNGHOON ֶָ֢ !
already knew what you were doing, because you were doing it to piss him off , previously you had sent him a video of you getting off with the bear — your moans picking up indicating that you were about to cum, thankfully he was on his way home , but that didn't stop you from cumming, hanging up the phone right as you were cumming , pissing him off even more , speeding on the gas all the way home. finally home he heard the moans indicating you still were going. not bothering to take his shoes of, rushing straight to the room , pushing the door open , the smirk on your face pissing him off even more. "so horny and desperate to cum you'll use a plushie, fucking slut." he hissed, you moaned. "ho-hoonie."
"don't call me name now whore save it for when your begging to cum on my cock."
𐙚 : SUNOO ֶָ֢ !
to him everything you do is cute, so when he finds you rutting against the teddy bear he bought you for your birthday , he couldn't help but coo at how cute you looked huffing, desperate to get off. opening the door to your bedroom, catching you off guard, but he didn't care. "don't be embarrassed baby." he said. "let me see you." he said , ignoring the fact that he was hard in his jeans. "does that feel nice?" he watched you nodded your head , moaning out for him to help you. "so cute baby." he chuckled. "how about you finish making yourself cum." you whined in protest, but he stopped you.
"don't be too upset baby, as soon as you cum i'll fuck you."
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/67a227448a0620ef8b4e57c19a8a36b4/71b7d83f2aaca5d1-9a/s540x810/34e2810442e9f2c0bfcd7e369a5f7b50ebdc6c2d.jpg)
©️LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung smut#jay park x reader#jay park smut#park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon x reader#jake sim smut#jake sim x reader#kim sunoo smut#sunoo x reader
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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 10
pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami
synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.
warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)
a/n: wow here's me with a fast part out! im already working on part 11 so don't you worry! i believe i tagged everyone who requested to, but pls feel free to yell at me in my askbox if i missed you! next chapter is gonna be... fun ;) just wanna say, your replies/reactions/reblogs make my heart sing and it makes me smile lots
all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9,
December | Tokyo, Japan | Sunday
You woke up to the sounds of coughing and beeping.
The subtle creaks of wheels being rolled, with voices left and right, both tones of urgency and concern. Through your blurred image, you knew for a fact you were no longer home. Lights brighter than the moon blinded you from above. You decide to use your hands to give you context, feeling this holed yet weighted blanket covering your body. As you moved, you felt wires tickle your arms, with some tugging from restriction.
“What…” you murmur to yourself, groaning in pain. The moment you shifted for comfort was when you realized you were in the hospital. Gurneys are as unforgeable to your back as spikes, and even then you’d probably respect the spikes more. They don’t pretend to not be uncomfortable. Finally rubbing your eyes, you look around, finding Nanami right beside you, eyeing your drip that was overhead you. “Nana…?”
It was almost consequential whenever you said his name. Once he hears your voice, those enticing hazel eyes find their way to burn into your own. Although you felt much better, the sudden pressure of his gaze forced a few coughs out of you. Seeing this, Nanami quickly held your forearm, his expression dressed with concern.
“Are you still feeling unwell?” Nanami asks quickly. “Should I call for a nurse?”
You shake your head, waving your free hand weakly, “I feel fine, please.” You begin to adjust yourself to sit up, noticing as Nanami stood up in order to hold you by your elbows. Rough, calloused hands delicately assist you as you sit yourself up. The faint, nauseating feeling you had prior to going unconscious vanished. “Thank you,” you murmur, quietly clearing your throat which was in long desire for some hydration.
“Ah, here.” Nanami reached over for a water bottle by the provided table, snapping the cap open while slowly passing it to you. You grab the bottle from him and begin to down it, the cooling relief surfing down your throat. Few streams of water escape from your lips, feeling the cold sensation go down your jaw and neck. But, it is kindly wiped away from a napkin, as Nanami dabs it dry. “Don’t drink so hastily, Y/N. You’re not in a rush anywhere, are you?”
“Yes I am,” you hiss after finishing half the water. “I need to go home. Now.”
“Y/N, you’re running a 39.4°C (103°F) fever, and you were incredibly dehydrated,” Nanami says in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone. He tugs carefully at your IV drip, “this is your third bag.”
You cross your arms over your chest and look away with a stubborn hmph. As you distantly looked towards the window and into the Tokyo night, you realized immediately that Nanami brought you to the hospital. Meaning, he was there when you passed out. Also meaning that… his confession may have been part of your fever. Perhaps the delusion of his confession may have just been a dream. Or a sweet nightmare.
“What happened?” You pondered quietly, anticipating that he’d answer your indirect question.
“You fainted,” Nanami answered curtly. Go figure. “So I brought you to the hospital immediately.”
You look over at him, seeing the earnesty in his face. You sucked your teeth mentally, knowing you couldn’t get mad at him over this. “Well… thank you, Nanami kacho. I’m really sorry for the trouble as well.”
Nanami shakes his head, “it’s absolutely no trouble. ‘M just glad you’re awake and well. The doctors were able to calm down that fever pretty quickly, and they simply said you needed more water and rest.”
You nod slowly, “work has been doing a number on me. I might schedule a vacation after the holiday, if that’s alright with you, kacho.”
Nanami, through an annoyed sigh from how you’re addressing him, gives a reluctant nod, “you’ve been working hard this last year. Consider it approved.”
“Thank you,” you let out.
After a moment of silence, Nanami leans forward in his chair, anxious thumbs twiddling around one another. “Y/N, if I may ask… do you remember anything prior to you going unconscious?”
You stare at him pensively, trying to recall memories in his brown eyes. “I remember you coming over with vegetables,” you begin, “and then you were making me soup– oh my god, the soup! Did you–!”
“It’s completely off, don’t worry,” Nanami reassures you. You quickly hold your chest, the sudden panic making your heart go off. “Anything else?”
He was trying to itch it out of you. “I believe that was it,” you say quickly, “everything else… I think it was just in my head.”
“Like a dream?” Nanami continues.
You nod, “it must have been. The last thing I remember is us on the couch, and you telling me something…” Your cheeks go warm again.
Nanami’s eyes narrow on your expression, curious as to what caused it. “Do you remember what I said?”
Your eyes dart at him, your nerves collecting. You had much more energy than before, sure, but that doesn’t neglect how lightheaded you were from everything. “Um,” you hesitate. You didn’t want to bring it up and embarrass yourself more than you already have. First 2 rejections, and now having to recount something that you were very confident did not happen. “Well, in my mind… I think you were trying to confess to me.”
Nanami nods, “I wasn’t trying to; I did.”
You blink a few times, your mind going blank. Mindlessly, you pinched your forearm, letting out a pained hiss. Nanami quickly holds your damage-dealing hand and looks at you puzzled. “Sorry,” you begin quietly, “I sort of lost my mind there. Sorry to ask you to repeat yourself, but can you say that one more time for me?”
“You were not dreaming, Y/N,” Nanami says forwardly, “I like you.”
The words were golden, but they didn’t reflect with that metallic shine. Your heart jumped for joy, but it was tied down with light weights. This confession, his words… it didn’t quite feel right. Not that you have experience being confessed to, but this didn’t feel like in the dramas you binged at 1 A.M.
You squint at him, skepticism drowning the air. You adjust yourself, facing him as best as you could with the most serious look on your face. Even Nanami looked surprised at your sudden change. “Nanami, you like me?”
Nanami looks at you, feeling as though this was a test, “yes…?”
“Why?” You asked combatively.
But this is a dream come true, no? To be confessed to, to have feelings reciprocated by the man you like and admire so much. To hear him say, ‘I like you,’ and happily begin to date. It was what you wanted, right before your very eyes. But… it didn’t feel as dreamy as it did in your head. He had rejected you twice– what change of heart could a man possibly have so quickly?
“Why do I like you?” Nanami reiterates. You nod. “Well, as you pointed out before, it is not shocking for coworkers to get along so well that they become romantically affiliated.”
“Nanami, that’s in general,” your tongue sharply starts, “with that logic, you could have liked any person you have worked with in the past. My question is why do you specifically like me?”
Nanami’s cheeks hold a peach hue, with a lump in his throat. In this space, with your aura, it felt like an interrogation. Your eyes burned into his soul, and he knew no doctor here could relieve him of such intensity. “W-well, firstly, your eye for detail and how meticulous you are in your work is definitely one reason.”
“Sure,” you hum, unconvinced, “anything else?”
Nanami starts to feel cold, “and, I appreciate that you listen to instructions exactly the way it’s told. You even exceed my expectations and do more than what I tell you.”
“Nanami, I’m sorry,” you tilt your head like a confused dog, “are you trying to tell me that you like me because I do good work?”
“W-well,” Nanami tries to keep his cool, looking down shamefully at his hands. “I’ve never liked someone before. So, forgive me if my standards are… unique.”
“They are unique, I can give you that,” you begin, disappointment laced in your words, “but with what you’re saying… It means that I’m not really unique.”
“That’s simply not true,” Nanami immediately tries to disagree, but you bring him to a complete halt. You raise your hand to him, shutting him up silently. Putting your hand down, you look at him with a sheepish smile.
“Nanami,” you say before letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. “Don’t feel obligated to like me as an attempt to restore how we once were with one another. It’s adding insult to injury, and you don’t have to do that to yourself, either.”
His face goes pale, “but I do like you.”
“So why didn’t you say so before?”
“I already told you; I didn’t realize before,” Nanami’s hands hold onto the corner of your bed, his fingers desperately denting into the barely-foamed mattress.
“So… you didn’t know you liked me,” you began slowly, “and conveniently, you realized you like right after breaking my heart. Am I right?”
“Y/N, you’re taking this out of proportion,” Nanami hums. He quickly adjusts the surrounding curtains, closing all the gaps to mimic some sort of privacy. Taking a seat once more, he looks over to you and raises his eyebrows. “I would never pretend to like someone in order to spare their feelings. That would be a waste of my time.”
“But you like me for lame reasons,” you huff quietly, “you like that I’m a really good assistant to you. That I do my job well, that I don’t require more than a simple instruction. I’m useful, convenient. You like me because I’m doing you a service that you’re literally paying me for.”
“That’s not true,” Nanami counters, “I refused every single assistant until you.”
“Because you’ve eavesdropped and practically did your research on me,” you pointed out. Oh, how eavesdropping got us here…
“You know exactly how I am, Y/N,” Nanami argues quietly. He sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I do not accept anything less than what should be standard. You exceed that standard, and I’ve had no regrets accepting you as my assistant.”
“If your big reason for liking me is because of the way I work, then I’m not interested,” you reply briefly. “You know nothing else about me besides my work ethic, which is only one part of me.”
Nanami looks at you, uncertain what else to say. You had your arms crossed above your own chest, looking distantly into the cold night. He was taken aback by your cold, avoidant demeanor. It was almost like you didn’t want to accept the reality. But, Nanami had a strong feeling that pressing it would make you shell up even more.
“Let’s be forward with one another,” Nanami says in a low tone. “We seem to go in this back and forth that’s a bit confusing. Why are you upset with me? We… now share the same sentiment.”
You look over at him, seeing the woe and worry in his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart. But you have to remember that your feelings were hurt first. You did the confessing, you took the rejection(s), and you did all the crying. Just because he was saying the things you wanted to hear doesn’t mean it was well timed.
“I don’t accept your confession,” you say simply. “If you didn’t realize you had feelings for me, that means there was a chance where you would have never realized it, and all this would have never happened.”
Nanami looks into your eyes, confidence standing its ground but wavering. He didn't know what to do. Though he knew he liked you, the points you brought up were irrefutable. Though he found you to be beautiful, and appreciated your thoughtfulness, he knew nothing about you or your past. And, with how defensive you now were, Nanami wasn’t too sure that he’d be able to delve into you like a swimmer diving in water.
But, he will absolutely traverse your waters, one way or another. Afterall, he’s a businessman.
“Then what is your offer?” Nanami begins, weaving his fingers between one another. He leaned into you, his head going over the gurney fencing.
“My offer?” You ask, a reticence on your tongue.
“You’re my woman of trade,” Nanami explains, “so, how much time do I have to persuade you that I like you?”
You feel your cheeks burn, “eh?”
“Give me an amount of time to convince you,” Nanami repeats himself, conviction being repaired in his words. “However long it takes, I’ll make it happen. I’ll make us happen.”
You immediately shake your head, “no.”
“Please?” Please? You raised your eyebrows, looking at Nanami. His usual empty scowl was softened, his hazel eyes shining like dew. You could tell he was at his wits end, unsure what else he could do.
As he silently pleaded, you felt a vibration sound on the table where your water bottle is. You look over, noticing your phone case. He follows your eyes and passes the phone to you. Quickly checking it, you casually skimmed an email notification and let out a curt sigh. You lift your head, and meet his eyes once more.
“You have until the end of the Holiday Party,” you offer simply, “but nothing dramatic or theatrical.”
Nanami stares at you, seeing if you were kidding or taking back your words. But you sat solemn. He nods, licking his bottom lip quickly to keep him from smiling. He brings his hand to you.
“Deal?” He says firmly. It felt like he was working, and for a moment even you were worried. Though you were confident in Nanami’s lack of sensibility, you couldn’t deny his businessman tactics and mind.
You slowly place your hand in his, and you feel him gently squeeze your hand. “D-deal.”
Taglist (OPEN)
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“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”
shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.
“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.
“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.
“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.
“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.
“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”
“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”
“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.
“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.
“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.
you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.
“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.
“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.
“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”
“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”
“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.
“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”
“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”
“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3
#ignore it took me over a year to post part two please and thanks#haikyuu#hq x you#haikyuu!!#hq imagines#lav.posts♡#haikyuu suna#suna x reader#suna rintaro#haikyuu x reader#hq suna#suna rintarō#suna rintaro x you#haikyuu imagines#suna x you#haikyuu fluff#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro x reader#suna fluff#suna rintarou#suna x y/n#suna rintarou fluff#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro fluff#suna rinatro#suna headcanons#suna hcs#suna rintaro fic#haikyuu drabbles
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Hiii, I’m sorry if this is super awkward, I’ve never sent a request before. (If this has been done before please ignore it). A reader who is really, really clumsy. Like walks into walls, drops everything, constantly having bruises that they dong know how they got there, and they’ve been made self conscious of being clumsy because lots of people have made fun of them? Reader falls down the stairs, or something like that, while carrying something of boyfriend!Spencer’s, maybe a gift for him or something to do with doctor who that he really likes? Like a figurine or something like that. It gets broken slightly, it can be fixed easily, but reader freaks out thinking that Spencer will be super upset and angry with them? But ofc Spencer just cares that reader is okay and not hurt?
If this is a really bad idea please ignore it, I’m not very good with ideas lol. Thanks :)
CLUTZ | spencer reid
summary; reader is shattered when they accidentally breaks the gift they got for spencer, while spencer only cares about them.
warnings; gn reader, mentions of being clumsy, crying, mentions of being insecure, mentions blood and bruises, grazes and injuries, hurt x comfort
an; you didn’t specify a gender so i just made it gender neutral i think but i saw this right before going to my birthday dinner and was ACHING to write it. this is so cute thank u so much for requesting
You think you stopped breathing.
There was a rough thumping in your chest, so you knew you were still alive — as much as you wished you weren’t in this moment — but you think you stopped breathing.
The ground held the pieces of the plastic figurine. The one you had spent waiting in line all morning for the minute Spencer said he wanted it — unfortunately he had to work so he wouldn’t be there and would likely miss out.
You wouldn’t have that when you saw how badly he wanted it.
Only in this moment you couldn’t stop thinking about how if he had been the one to get it, there wouldn’t be broken pieces of the figurine all over the floor right now.
You were making it a bigger deal in your head than what it was, it wasn’t in many pieces, the plastic head had just fallen off, but built up guilt and insecurity made its way through your veins and buried themselves right behind your eyes pushing the tears forward.
You always did this.
No matter what it was, spilling coffee on yourself, tripping up stairs or over your own feet, dropping things or walking into desks and doors. No matter what — you were constantly covered in bruises, no matter how much you tried to be careful its like your body never alined with what was in front of you.
“Baby?” You looked up from the floor where the broken figurine laid. You hadn’t realised you were in fact breathing — although it came out uneven and harsh as you struggled to calm the build of anxiety in your blood stream.
Your eyes landed on Spencer as he looked over you worryingly. Maybe you should’ve stood up from where you had tripped, landing on your knees which were now bleeding with grazes.
You had messaged Spencer to meet you outside, however you had not expected to trip over your own feet in excitement sending the figurine out of your hands and your body to the ground.
You suddenly felt the pain coursing through your legs, a small sound of pain ushered your lips as the tears lining your eyes began to cloud your vision, causing Spencer to be covered by blurry vision.
“Im sorry” You ushered out as your hands sprawled open and closed as you tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t working. Spencer didn’t say anything for a moment as he bent down to your level, offering a hand to you.
“What happened angel?” His tone was so soft, so gentle, so sweet. The tone you couldn’t feel less deserving of. You took his hand as his other pressed gently under your other arm to help you out as his eyes scanned over your body, lips parting as his eyes settled on the blood pooling a little around the graze on your knees.
“Im so sorry — I am such an idiot! I don’t even- I was just walking, Spence Im so sorry, I know how bad you wanted this and I just completely ruined it, i ruined the entire thing and they’re all sold out I got the second last one, Im so sorry.” You rambled as hot tears fell from your eyes as you blinked, they burnt their trail down your cheeks leaving their residue aflame.
“What?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his eyes looked down to the floor to the figure that was in two parts. He looked back at you as his eyebrows furrow deepened. His hands gracing over your side in the gentlest touch, just allowing their comforting presence to be known. “Who cares about that— How about you come inside and I’ll clean you up yeah?” He said softly, eyes dropping back down to your knees.
“I care!! And you do!! You wanted this, Spence — And - and i wanted to do this for you. You do so much for me and I couldn’t even get you a bloody gift without completely ruining it.” You ushered out in a broken sob as your hands rose to your face to provide somewhat of a soothing sensation to your skin that felt like on the verge of ashes from the tears that grazed them — but it made no difference.
Spencer frowned as he listened to you speak, his hand paused softly on your hips before rising your face, replacing your hands with his own as he cupped your cheeks softly. “I care about you angel. I care that you are bleeding right now. I care that you are obviously in pain and you are more worried about something that we can fix” He said softly, his thumb rubbing over your cheek softly.
You didn’t say anything as you leaned into his touch instinctively. “Im sorry” You repeat gently as your hands frail by your side. The tears don’t stop but they fall more silently as they continue to fill your eyes no matter your attempt to blink them away.
He coos, “Theres nothing you have to be sorry about sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Can we get you inside and clean you up?” He speaks so gently and softly it makes your stomach tighten and your chest clench as if someone is holding it in a death grip. — how you deserved him was beyond you.
“I always do this” You mutter, shaking your head. His hands are brushing hairs away from your face and thumbs are brushing the hot tears that fall, his hands providing a cooling sensation over the burning paths of the tears. “I suck” You laugh out, but it’s not all that funny.
He shakes his head as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, before he leant down to pick up the figurine that landed on the floor between you and him. You watch his hands work and in moments the head is reattached, theres a little bit a scrape on the plastic of it, but nothing big.
“Easy fix honey. I love it, and don’t get me wrong I am so insanely grateful for you and that you went out of your way to get it but i’m more worried about you” He said, his hand coming to the back of your head to softly drag you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a soft hug that he knew you needed.
You bury your face in the warmth of his sweater vest, his lips kissing your hair softly repeatedly. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.. Can you do that for me honey?” He almost whispered as his fingers smoothed out your hair gently.
You finally nodded into his chest as the tears subsided, your breathing came out shaking but less heavy and throaty than it was previously. His comfort providing you a the resemblance of a lifeline.
He thanked you softly as he took his hands in yours, leading you inside the figurine tight in his other hand as he looks over every few steps to make sure you were okay, he could see the pain evident in your face in every step you took and he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you to his desk but he knew you would just be embarrassed by the attention from other people looking, so instead his hand squeezed your hand gently.
Finally you relaxed against the wall of the elevator and Spencers hands were instantly tucked under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “Spence” You whisper out as your face goes red.
“It’s just my team, baby. Id rather you not in pain” He said softly as his hand pressed against the small of your back softly. You did nothing more than sigh in response as your head rested against his shoulder softly.
He was bringing you to his desk and placing you gently in his chair only moments later. He was on his knees in seconds, fingers searching through his draw for antiseptic wipes that he kept in there constantly for two reasons.
1, because the world was gross.
2, because you were always getting yourself hurt.
“Gonna sting baby” He said softly, hands working to peel over the individual wrapping. You felt the burn when the wipe hit the graze on your knee, a quiet wince left your lips as your face screwed up.
Spencer frowned as he leant up to the top of your knee over the skin he had just cleaned and pressed his lips softly against it, as his hand continued wiping over the graze gently. “I know darling, Im sorry.” He whispered quietly.
You let the feeling of his lips against your skin take over the pain. His hand scrambled softly back in his draw for bandages.
“Im sorry” You muttered again as he places the bandaids gently across the scarred skin. He looked up at you with eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love, the look making your stomach drop in a way you couldn’t explain if your life depended on it.
He tsked slightly, shaking his head as he pressed his lips gently over your knee again, “No apologies, cmon” He said softly as he used a new wipe to clean his hands before taking yours in his own. “It was an accident. You couldn’t control it and you have no reason to apologise for it, as long as you are okay, I don’t care about anything else” He spoke clearly with so much intent you felt in piece through the insecurity that build up your body.
He leant up to place a gently kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, once his lips separated from yours he stood up properly, hands remaining in yours as his thumb rubbed over the soft skin on the back of your hair softly.
You wondered how he put up with it, how he put up with you — but then he would looked at you with eyes full of admiration and his hands would graze your skin so softly as if you were something so delicate. He would talk to you as if his entire world depended on protecting you, and then there was no room for insecurity or doubt in your mind when it was all too consumed with him.
“Im okay.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds show#criminal minds x reader#criminalmindsfans#spencer criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x reader#wattpad#criminal minds one shot#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid
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Love & Loathing: The First Christmas | Series Masterlist
The holidays feel lonely without your friends and family. Wanda faces her first Christmas after her divorce and miscarriage. The two of you build your first tradition.
Word count: 2635
Tags: some angst, light manipulation, foreshadowing of future toxic relationship as seen in main series, writing this after already writing the main series reminded me of emily im sorry by boygenius! sad!
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Wanda’s cart came to an abrupt stop when a young child suddenly ran away from his mother to the other side of the aisle, passing in front of her without warning. Her orange juice lurched forward then fell onto her carrots.
The child’s mother quickly came over, scolding her son for running in front of a moving cart as he begged her to buy rainbow chip cookies for Santa, oblivious to the fact that Wanda and her full cart were still standing idly behind him, unable to skirt around.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized after giving in to the rainbow chip cookies once her son apologized to Wanda too. He went to place the package in their cart. “Holiday shopping makes them a little wild too, I suppose.” She laughed like she was telling her an inside joke.
Them, like a proper noun.
“Children, yes,” Wanda conceded with a small nod and a smile. “I understand. But rainbow chip is a great pick. Very considerate of Santa’s tastes.” She looked over at the young boy who waited for his mother patiently, then seemed bashful when he made eye contact with Wanda.
Wanda then noticed the woman’s eyes flicker down to her left hand, barren of a wedding ring, and then to her cart, empty of what a mother would shop for her children for. Wanda dropped her left arm to her side, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
After finishing up her grocery list, she strolled back down the cookie section and picked up a package of the rainbow chip cookies. As she walked to the checkout line, she ran her eyes across her cart — orange juice, the Pillsbury cookies you liked, eggs, milk, bagels, your favourite ice cream flavour, some things for the washroom, baking ingredients for a recipe you’d been wanting to try, some snacks, fruits and vegetables, and the rainbow chip cookies.
She put her left glove on first, then her right, then started to place her things on the conveyor.
“My kids have been in a baking craze since they got off school,” the cashier told her as she bagged her flour, then her vanilla extract. “It must be the season.”
Wanda looked up from her wallet then smiled.
“Mine too,” she said.
When she arrived at home, you were sitting at the dining table on your laptop. It was nearing the end of the semester, so you still had a few more final assignments to finish. You stood and helped Wanda unload the groceries.
“Hi, baby,” she greeted once all the bags were on the counter. She reached and placed her palm against your furthest cheek, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple.
“Hi,” you answered with a smile, putting some things away into the fridge. “Did you get the Pillsbury cookies? You saw the holiday ones, right?”
Wanda handed you the milk. “I did. There were only the snowmen.”
“That’s fine. I just wanted something that was Christmas themed.”
The rainbow chip cookies came out last. Wanda had never tried them, and it wasn’t on the shopping list, and you hadn’t asked for it before. She handed them to you as you stored some things away into the cupboards.
“Do you like these? They were on sale,” she suddenly lied.
You took them from her, eyes running over the package. Then you set it on the counter with a contemplating hum as you peeled it open and looked inside. “Oh, I do like these. I last had them when I was really young.”
After dinner, you resumed working on your laptop, cuddled up beside Wanda on the couch as she flipped through Netflix for something to watch. She had a glass of white wine in hand and an arm around your shoulders, fastening the shared blanket around your body.
You’d been trying to apply for some jobs lately; after declaring a temporary leave from college starting next semester, you wanted to start working a little to make some income and keep yourself busy. You were hoping for something part-time and very casual.
The gold Christmas lights Wanda had hung up around the fireplace and curtains glowed warm, enveloping the living room in something gentle and festive. There wasn’t any other light on aside from the stovetop in the kitchen, so the laptop screen felt particularly intrusive.
“What are you working on?” she asked, putting her phone down and looking down at you from the rim of her glass as she took a sip.
“A final essay. It’s pretty overdue.”
Wanda eyed the tabs you were switching between. “Overdue? Online courses not working well?”
“I thought it might be better for me but…” you trailed off, your fingers pausing atop the keyboard. Your index finger tapped ever so slightly against the E key, just enough to make the plastic sound against the board.
“Is something on your mind…?” Wanda asked, setting the remote down. She craned her neck down and brushed her nose against your cheek.
Your fingernail traced the top edge of the D key. “It just feels like I’m always behind. I keep trying to change things around so maybe I might find something I can finally get accustomed to — online courses, a lesser course load.”
Then, quietly, you added, “My friends don’t even ask to study with me anymore. I know I declared a leave, but...”
The Christmas lights reflected against Wanda’s glass, and against the pale golden hue of her wine, it looked like she was drinking champagne, slightly flat.
She set the glass on the coffee table then carefully closed your laptop, allowing you to remove your hands from the keyboard. She placed it down, closed, beside her wine. Instinctively, you curled up and leaned your head against her chest, and Wanda wrapped both arms around you, one hand coming to cradle the side of your head.
Before she could say anything, you said, “They invited me out to the Christmas market downtown a few days ago.”
Something tightened in Wanda’s stomach and she looked down at you, but your face was covered by your hair and some of the blanket which was wrapped around her arms.
“Really? You didn’t tell me,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say at first.”
“Say to whom? To them or me?”
“I don’t know…” you muttered quietly. “Both.”
Wanda’s hand tightened around your shoulder. You buried your cheek against her chest, feeling like she was holding you tighter against her. Instead, Wanda felt tense; the idea that you could feel about her in any similar way that you did for your friends made her feel like she was just as disposable and temporary.
“Did you go…?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding strained as she feared the answer might be that, yes, you did make plans and see other people in your life without telling her.
If your feelings of uncertainty were the same between her and your friends, and you ended up seeing them and not telling her, wasn’t that the same as you picking them over her? Leaving her behind like some afterthought, only to come up later when you felt a little insecure about something?
You shook your head, and Wanda took a breath through her nose, tension in her lungs dissipating. Then you lifted yourself from her chest and reached for your phone. Wanda pulled you back against her when you leaned back, but now your head was on her shoulder instead of her chest so you could both look at your phone screen together.
You showed her a picture on Instagram of your friends together at the market.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Wanda said, brushing her nose against your temple then kissing your cheek. “But you wouldn’t have really enjoyed yourself if you were with them, would you?”
“I don’t know…” you mumbled, eyes still on the screen, obviously not really caring what she was saying, and still feeling rather down about it.
Wanda bit the side of her tongue a little at your passive insistence that you still cared about the fact that they hung out without you. “Baby, you always say that you don’t really feel like you fit in when you’re with them. Don’t you say that…?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did we do that day, anyway? We went shopping for decorations, right? And got dinner? Wasn’t that much more fun?”
You nodded and looked up.
Wanda felt her breath hitch and snag in her throat when you met her eyes. She swallowed, wondering what you might be thinking when you looked at her like that.
“I… I’m really happy we’re spending the holidays together,” you said quietly. Your phone dimmed then locked, the image of your friends forgotten.
Her lungs filled with air and her expanding rib cage pushed gently against your upper arm.
“Me too, Y/N.”
A warm hand cupped your cheek, smooth fingers brushing against your soft skin. She looked over your face in great detail.
When the thought came over her, wondering what similarities you held in comparison to your mother and father, Wanda looked away. She reached over to get her wine glass then settled back against your side.
You leaned your head on her shoulder and Wanda rested her chin on top of it.
“Any movie you’d like to watch?” she asked, combing her fingers through your hair.
You reached for the remote and turned on the TV.
Early the next morning, you sleepily padded downstairs to see Wanda setting up the Christmas tree in the living room. She was still in her pajamas, but she had a sweater on and her hair was clipped back.
When you stepped off from the stairs, Wanda turned around to greet you with a smile. She outreached an arm for you to come over and give her a hug.
Wanda thought you were rather light on your feet; you would sometimes sneak up on her when you’d enter a room. It was a stark contrast to Vision, who was quite tall, and seemed to always walk with the frustrating burden that he’d woken into another day, living the same life as he did the day prior.
It was the recollection of painful memories like that, ones where you’d no doubt see her as a spineless, empty woman, that made Wanda all the more confident in her decision to keep truths about Vision from you. She wanted to be someone different, and better.
You walked over and wrapped your arms around her waist, tucking your head under her chin before she kissed your forehead.
“You started putting up the tree without me?” you asked, lifting your head and looking up at her.
“Oh,” Wanda replied, turning her head to look at the tree. She had only just started with the ornaments, and the cardboard box she stored the tree in was still on the floor.
She looked back down at you.
“You want to help?”
You nodded and pulled away from her before digging through the box of ornaments to begin decorating. “You shouldn’t ever decorate a Christmas tree alone unless you’re actually by yourself.”
Wanda smiled at your boldness as she watched you from behind. She pinched your side playfully, causing you to flinch away. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into her, pressing a kiss to your neck and causing you to giggle.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” you replied. Then you shooed her away so you could continue with what you were doing.
Wanda hadn’t ever decorated with anyone else; Vision wasn’t very festive, and when she was younger, her family often travelled for work, leaving her and Pietro to celebrate alone with the company of their neighbour who watched over them.
Their neighbour was a strict elderly man who didn’t speak much English and slept most of the time, whose dialect was that which only their parents understood, and was never taught to Wanda nor Pietro. Her memories of Christmas as a jointly-celebrated holiday was reminiscent of bitter black tea, imported from her neighbour’s hometown overseas, and television on its lowest volume in the late evening, playing old holiday sitcoms.
“My parents and I got in a fight a few days ago,” you said suddenly, still hanging up ornaments.
Wanda looked at you as she adjusted the position of some of them she’d put up earlier. She thought for a moment before responding, “Is everything okay?”
“It’s okay,” you answered.
You’d been having a hard time with your parents the past few months. They were upset you’d taken a temporary leave from your schooling without consulting with them first, they were upset you’d been spending so much time with someone they’d never met, and they were upset that you hadn’t been speaking with them.
You still had a large sum of money left from when you worked more often than you attended classes, and so you were rather glad not to rely on them for any financial support, not that you often spent money while being at home with Wanda.
The change, according to them — and according to you, too — had seemingly come out of the blue. But, still, you could pinpoint when it started.
After meeting Wanda, all you wanted to do was run away from things. You wanted to run from your parents, who’d always babied you and never gave you your own choice in anything, and from school, and from your friends, and from the world.
To word it more accurately, you’ve always wanted to run away from things.
And Wanda let you.
She took you away and kept you safe.
You hung an ornament on the tree, and instead of leaning down to take another out of the box, your arms stilled at your sides and you looked down at the floor.
After a moment of silence while Wanda was busy reaching up to hang an ornament close to the top, you asked quietly, “Is it okay if I spend Christmas with you…?”
Looking up from the floor, you met Wanda’s eyes.
Wanda felt her breath hitch at the sight of you looking at her that way — expectantly, patiently, like what she said mattered to you a great deal. She leaned down and placed the ornament back in the box. She stepped towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “Of course, baby,” she answered quietly, speaking against the side of your head. “Let’s stay home for the holidays — just the two of us.”
By next week, your gifts for Wanda were wrapped and stored under the tree. You mixed them in along with the ones she’d gotten for you, so you could see them altogether.
Wanda was still at work, staying a bit later tonight, so you went out to walk through the Christmas market downtown on your own. You saw a beautiful jade hair clip that you thought would look perfect on her; you imagined the shade of green tucked within the brown of her hair, bringing out the green in her eyes, and her delicate fingers wrapping around the handle to clip it in.
Wrapped in a small box, you crouched down and placed it on top of a gift Wanda wrapped for you.
When she came back from work, Wanda found you dozing on the couch in the living room with a blanket draped around you. You were bathed in the gentle light of the Christmas tree that you’d put up together.
She quietly put her things down before approaching your delicate sleeping figure. She crouched down and carefully brushed your hair out of your face, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m home, my angel,” she whispered softly, a smile growing on her face as she watched you awaken slowly.
#love and loathing#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#elizabeth olsen
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she devil - charles leclerc
(black cat) ferrari driver reader x (golden retriever) charles leclerc social media au
a/n: the concept is stone cold driver meets sunshine driver, is infected by the happiness, and is cool with it because she fell in love. face claim is bella hadid :) ❤️
requests are open!
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scuderiaferrari
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scuderiaferrari: We are extremely proud to announce our 2024 driver line up: Charles Leclerc, Il Predestinato, and Y/N L/N, La Diavolessa. We are certain this is a step closer to bring the championship back to Maranello, and to our Tifosi. ❤️
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charles16s: why is she named La Diavolessa?
y/nsupremacy: she’s from Italy and the tifosi have loved her forever, so they nicknamed her She Devil because of how she drives
y/ncupid: i have been dreaming of this for YEARS
leclercfosi: i wonder how she’ll team up with charles, she has always been a handful lol
fallingfory/n: she is a great sportswoman. women don’t have to be complacent to be good people, fck outta here w/ that narrative
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y/nusername
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c69fcdc271698a1779bffb850e794397/55c4e5e172ccffb2-76/s540x810/d47f4eda5f805939fe3db016df8181a44e30e57c.jpg)
liked by 1,925,024
y/nusername: Ferrari 2024.
view all 2,034 comments
charles_leclerc: Give them hell. Welcome to the team! ❤️🔥
sebastianvettel: I’m sure you will bring glory back to Maranello ❤️
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y/nusername:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/090db800a97f48916fb7d69eca9a7ac1/55c4e5e172ccffb2-a6/s540x810/c3d05fa100fa8286a000c255868bfd5d44490c1e.jpg)
liked by 1,234,245
y/nusername: New season, new cars. That was a great first race.
view all 2,395 comments
charles_leclerc: 👊❤️🔥
scuderiaferrari: We are so proud of you!
lewishamilton: Welcome, huge start 💪🏼
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y/nusername
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/eb933cc2659b8eac43ccce708de4f769/55c4e5e172ccffb2-6d/s540x810/de56923deee0c050c02c872a2de1b9fc0d88b67b.jpg)
liked by 1,562,924
y/nusername: Amazing team results so far, let’s keep up the good work after the summer break.
leclercstarlight: miss girl doesn’t smile much does she
wildflowery/n: imagine being in 2024 and still being a “you should smile more” ass bitch, she’ll smile when she wants to
charles_leclerc: Amazing season 🏆❤️🔥
eurougeleclerc: he’s so whipped lol i’m calling it not
ferrarisduo: me when im delusional
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charles_leclerc
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/019bafba5738ec25f64986872d7cb30e/55c4e5e172ccffb2-d0/s540x810/a4c7a5a8be5cc5e2907996ebe4939d670b4656f7.jpg)
liked by 1,134,385
charles_leclerc: We did everything to maximize our results today. Big congrats to y/nusername for her first win; so very happy for you! ❤️🔥 The pizza celebration was better than anything.
view all 2,875 comments
y/nusername: Thank you, Charles. You’ve been a great teammate.
alliny/n: what goes ON
shadowleclerc: she gives kimi and i love it
mastermindy/n: she’s like race win? cool
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y/nusername
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1aaaa5f5884f2c740606170b293cc5cd/55c4e5e172ccffb2-33/s540x810/f616772d4d884d8e9fc901dbfd4b17c7634bcf61.jpg)
liked by 1,035,475
y/nusername: Things didn’t go to plan in my race, but I’m genuinely happy for charles_leclerc. We will be back stronger.
view all 2,078 comments
y/nsupremacy: y’all don’t get it she’s SMILING after a dnf because of A MAN
y/nhaven: she also literally defended for him. strategy had already fucked her up but the fact that she wasn’t coming for his throat… she must really like him lmao
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Y/N. Couldn’t have done with without you ❤️🔥
midnightcharles: he keeps using the heart fire emoji i can’t lmfao
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formulanews
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a742acd482b9150cb0b4f20e1297efc9/55c4e5e172ccffb2-52/s540x810/85f4338fda372ad9c930422ccc7102b963e11915.jpg)
liked by 54,724
formulanews: Charles and Y/N have been interviewed together for GQ magazine, and they were asked about the nature of their relationship as teammates or friends. Charles said: “I think the world of her and I admire her mentality and race craft a lot. I also think she is a great friend to me and everyone around her, I don’t know why people think she isn’t. Y/N brings a lot of passion to the grid.” Meanwhile, Y/N told the publication: “Charles is a good guy, and a better driver. Being his teammate is fruitful; so is being his friend.”
view all 245 comments
starleclerc: y/n doesn’t speak much but when she does it’s meaningful
y/nheart: charles also spoke so highly of her like wow
leclercsplanet: honestly charles likes her a lot and y/n also seems comfortable with him which unusual
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f1waggossip
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/33a2299a7b591a9c9537a3987dda513b/55c4e5e172ccffb2-af/s540x810/f7cb44b653ea1f8bb7f5196e1b59d6117e54a355.jpg)
liked by 104,483
f1waggossip: We are as shocked as anyone else but Charles and Y/N have been seen acting very cozy on a yacht in Monaco. New relationship just dropped, out of literal nowhere!
view all 1,035 comments
lovebirdleclerc: THERES NO MF WAY
eurougeleclerc: i was called delusional I CALL IT MANIFESTING
y/nhaven: what, and i can’t stress this enough, the fuck just happened
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y/nusername
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7f044e9dc977e577e58733dcc700a629/55c4e5e172ccffb2-9d/s540x810/d452dc5a30541fb329aa83a5628cd3b1b37b45bf.jpg)
liked by 2,794,924
y/nusername: Love :)
view all 6,024 comments
charles_leclerc: my sweet girl ❤️🔥🤍
y/nhope: i am fainting rn like actually afraid for my life rn
dazzlingleclerc: pinch me fr
landonorris: she does smile everyone, i’ve seen it when they (disgustingly) kiss
danielricciardo: don’t be so jealous (it’s true, it’s disgustingly sweet)
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charles_leclerc
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4dab73e2a07f7b4218f8ec9ce2b5be33/55c4e5e172ccffb2-d4/s540x810/06645907f91fc69a87f8c9ee31abeb75bbd67da7.jpg)
liked by 2,034,835
charles_leclerc: She is actually an angel 🤍❤️🔥
view all 4,035 comments
y/nusername: Still she devil, just in love.
charles_leclerc: Give them hell forever.
carlossainz55: Can I just say you’re welcome for leaving Ferrari and letting Y/N join?
#f1#f1 au#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1#charles leclerc#Charles leclerc fanfic#Charles leclerc x reader#Charles leclerc social media au#Charles leclerc smau#Charles leclerc au
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click
azriel x fem!reader
a short sorta and angsty, im halfway through a court of wings and ruin so this doesn’t really sit in a timeline but i was inspired to write. as always, requests are always open
If there was one thing to be absolutely certain about when it came to Azriel, it was his utter devotion to Mor. The yearning that bled through that stone cold facade. It was almost as if his desperation for her prevailed above all else, even after so many years.
Rhysand had alluded to his hope that the mating bond would someday click between the two of them. You wondered if perhaps he thought if it did, maybe all of that longing wouldn’t have all been for nothing. The way he looked at her was unlike anything you’d ever seen, causing you to ignore the small twinge in your heart that came with the sight of it. Over the years, you had come to terms with the fact that his feelings were unchanging and deep-rooted through centuries of shared trauma.
Having only been with Rhys’s inner circle for a few decades, you were much younger get than the rest of them. He had anointed you as emissary of The Night Court when you came to him seeking asylum within Velaris, born to The Court of Nightmares.
Mor was much like you in that way, she was a sister to you at this point. When Feyre came, you felt so overjoyed to have another female to connect with. Even Amren had taken to you, in whatever capacity she knew how to.
Amren was who had observed the soul tie between you and Azriel, how she was able to—you had not a clue. The feeling of the potential bond had weighed on your heart for a few years, however he never spoke of it so you had chalked it up to being a mistaken feeling within the hollowness of your chest. She picked up on it very early on, she spoke to you candidly.
“He loves Mor,” said Amren, unabashedly.
“I know,” you responded chastely. “She knows, he knows, I know. That is that.”
Amren stilled for a moment, her legs tucked under her as you both sat on the floor of her apartment and mulled over information for your meeting at the House of Wind that night. A flicker of emotion passed her cold eyes, meeting her gaze and sharing a look of understanding. She needn’t say it, she pitied you in whatever way she could muster up.
“He doesn’t know,” you said after a moment.
“Yes,” she let a knowing sigh escape her lips. “He does.”
You say nothing. Truthfully, you knew that he suspected. You simply gathered that he was doing the same as you were, ignoring it in entirety. Yet, you remained on speaking terms with him as he continued to watch Mor like she would someday change her mind.
“I will say this only once, mostly because I do not wish to meddle in the inner workings of your soul,” she finally said. “If he wishes to grovel at the feet of someone who will never have him in the way that he wishes, let him. It is a pathetic waste of life, if that is any consolation.”
Once you departed from Amren’s apartment, you walked along the streets of Velaris soundlessly. There were children playing in the streets, you greeted some of them sweetly and nodded along. She was right, Azriel would not change for anyone but himself at this point.
He was late to dinner that night, whatever business he was attending to had somehow held him up. He came in after everyone was already sat and eating, chatting and laughing a bit. He took the empty seat beside you, mentioning a few things to Rhysand and speaking to Feyre about his plans for the following day.
“How did it go between you and Amren?” He suddenly asked you, beginning to shovel food onto his plate.
You simply responded with the sound of cutlery scraping the bottom of your plate. He thought that you had not heard him, repeating himself again as his shadows danced around his shoulders and the edges of his wings. The third time he repeated himself, there was an edge to his voice that brought you out of your thoughts to meet his eyes.
Click.
There it was. The bond. The god awful fucking mating bond. It felt almost ironic, like fate was giving you the middle finger. Azriel stilled, his eyes completely locked onto your own. It felt nothing like you’d imagined, despite already knowing deep down.
Only Amren had fully recognized what happened, eyes almost appearing shocked. She said nothing, but could not pull her own stare from the interaction.
His shadows began to drift towards you, a sick feeling lurching in your gut and causing you to drop your utensils. The clatter caused everyone to look up and to both of you, your chair nearly falling behind you as you could not stomach to be in the dining room any longer.
Azriel couldn’t even go after you, he only sat in silence with unmoving eyes. He hadn’t even blinked, almost as if the confirmation sent him into a complete and utter state of shock.
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Seventeen when they realise they’re in love with you
Seventeen Masterlist
Im open to fic requests!
Genre: Fluff!
→ Choi Seungcheol
“She doesn’t bite, I promise” Cheol reassures.
Cheol brings his dog over to meet you. You were terrified of dogs, but you tried for him.
Cheol somehow got you to touch kkumas head and also feed her some chopped carrots. Kkuma really liked you and wanted to play with you. She kept jumping to your lap, but you tried your best not to make sudden movements or shriek and scare the poor dog.
You thought dogs were cute, but only from afar.
You trying to overcome this fear and interact with someone so precious to him, really made him seoon over you. He definitely fell for you that day.
→Yoon Jeonghan
He had called you over while he babysat one of his nieces. You’ve always liked kids so it was no big deal. But the only big deal was meeting his family. You’ve been together now for a month and meeting family was a huge deal.
His niece at first felt a little awkward and standoffish but soon warmed up to you when you presented her with some candy you picked up for her.
Jeonghan loved the fact that you got along with his family. He also starting feeling love for you that day that only deepened there after.
→ Hong Jisoo
“Tell me what you want from me Joshua?” You yell at him, tears pooling your eyes.
What did he want? He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, but seeing you talk to that guy from uni also did something to him. Lately he felt as if he was running away from something, he finally figured out what it was. As you stood there, tears falling out of your eyes. He loved you, it hit him like a bag of bricks when he saw you threaten leaving the apartment without resolving whatever this was. He was scared to admit to himself, but now he had to say it out loud. For him to hear, for you, to hear.
He knew if he let you walk out that door, you’ll be gone forever.
“I’m in love with you”
→ Moon Jun hui
Jun had the worst day at work today, everything that could go wrong, went wrong: the paper machine had no paper, his sandwich for lunch became soggy, it started to rain when he went out to get some lunch instead, his important presentation fell through. Nothing was right.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, as you both take a walk. Seeing him stressed, you suggested a walk outside to get some fresh air.
He doesn’t respond to the question, so you just take his hand in both of yours, softly caressing it with your thumb as you both walk, you hoped that was enough.
He turned to look at you and your eyes met. Jun always thought it was superficial when people said ‘all my worries fade away when I’m with you’ but he finally understood exactly what that was like. All his cynicism disappeared because it worked. One look at you and he was smiling.
Regardless of what happens in the day, you were someone that melt his problems. He realised this is what love is.
→Kwon Soonyoung
“I’m going to make this work” you say frustrated, almost pulling your hair out.
Soonyoung was in your studio helping you figure out some beats for your new song and it was going to hell. Every tune you came up with sounded so eeriely similar to something you’ve already heard before. You’d rather jump off a cliff than accidentally put yourself through accusations of plagiarism.
Another groan while you play around with the keys. This went on all night where to a point soonyoung fell asleep on the couch behind you but you were still making the song.
“I did it!”
This woke him up and you looked so happy and accomplished that you had finally cracked it. You let him have a listen to see if it sounds familiar somehow, but it didn’t.
Soonyoung had heard many friends say that people look the most attractive when they’re working and they were right.
Your happiness was contagious and he was absolutely adoring you.
He fell in love with your happiness immediately.
→ Jeon Wonwoo
Like every time, this time too, wonwoo left for home after spending the whole weekend at yours. He lived two towns away so it was an hour of a drive to see each other. You made it all worth it.
This time, while leaving it didn’t feel like usual. His chest felt a lot heavier when he thought about not seeing you for another week.
This time, his throat closed up every time he wanted to say goodbye. Perhaps he had finally gotten used to saying goodbye until a new feeling came in and knocked the air out of his lungs and glued his feet to your apartment.
“I think I love you”
→ Lee Jihoon
You were snoring in the living room on your architecture table as he helped you into bed.
You’ve been working on this project for days, staying up all night. Jihoon is someone that works really hard and also holds a lot of respect for people who are passionate about their contribution to the world. He looks up to people who are diligent and dedicated.
That night, he had a lot of respect for you but also a lot of adoration. He was falling in love with your sincerity, slowly and surely.
→Seo Myungho
“I hope we get to see sea turtles later” you say to Hao.
Hao has always been attracted to empathy. When he suggested that you should go on a date to the beach with a clean up drive, he didnt expect you to say yes as fast as you did.
He has always found this empathy in you for nature, and preserving nature, very attractive. The fact that this was your common ground only deepened your relationship further.
He was head over heels for you when you agreed to pick garbage with him at the beach.
→Kim Mingyu
Kim Mingyu took you to the arcade for your 6th date, yes, you were counting, because he felt like a dream, you really saw this going somewhere.
The arcade was one of the cutest date things to do on paper, but you never got to actually experience it. You ended up trying all the machines there were. But the dance machine is something you were waiting for.
You had your concentration face on and you were really to destroy this machine. Mingyu was always carefree and very giggly type. His giggles made you giggle too.
You ended up challenging him to a dance off and went at it for a good 3 minutes. But all you could see was Mingyu half way through stopping and chuckling at your face. You raise an eyebrow.
“You’re so easy to love”
→Lee Seokmin
Dokyeom falls in love with the littlest of things, they then add on to become a huge pile of love and an overwhelming sense of adoration and affection.
You and him were walking in the city on a road that goes uphill. You had spotted an old lady with her hands full of 2 huge bags, barely able to climb uphill. You immediately rush to her and offer help. Dokyeom was puzzled to see you run, until he realised what you were doing. He had a big smile plastered on his face while he comes over to help as well.
Dokyeom enjoyed helping people, he drew joy from it and so did you. This instance was another drop in the ocean for him to fall more and more in love with you.
→Boo Seungkwan
Boo Seungkwan was an athlete by heart. He absolutely loves breaking a sweat playing all the sport he can.
Him and you started dating a couple of weeks ago and promised each other you’d have a go at his favourite sport badminton, which he boasted he was good at. You were an average badminton player, you enjoyed squash more.
The match started off slow, you were both testing waters. The match slowly gog to a point where it was just sounds of the racket hitting the shuttle, no giggles, no teasing. Neither of you like to lose.
You finally hit a smash that he could not reach. He was awestruck. Usually, he hates losing, but this time, he lost focus, all his focus was on how amazing the match was and how amazing you were.
Now if thats you or your badminton playing skills that he fell in love with is something you are yet to figure out.
→Choi Vernon
Usually Vernon is quite non chalant,doing his own thing, minding his own business. You and him have been speaking to each other for a month now.
And everything feels different to him. Every time Vernon sees something very interesting immediately thinks of you and to bring you to show it to you, all his thoughts about the future have you in it. He’s thinking about you all the time.
He was walking by a bakery and he thought about who this one time you told him you hated the smell of bread.
His brain was a 90% you and thats when it clicked. He was in love.
→Lee Chan
Your boyfriend had called you saying he didn’t feel very well and cancelled your date. You ended up going to his apartment instead.
You tended to him, he was running a fever and even made him some soup to feel better and stayed with him if he needs anything. As a boy, he had moved away from home early and never really had someone that cared for him like this.
This was the first time in years he felt cared for and he was so grateful to you, that feeling of gratefulness soon turned into feelings of love before the fever broke.
——
Tried a different style, hope y’all like it!j I’m open to fic requests!
#svt#seventeen#kpop#idol x reader#svt scenarios#idol!reader#carats#svt fics#svt fluff#svt preferences#scoups x reader#scoups#seungcheol#yoon jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan#svt joshua fluff#svt joshua#dino x reader#seungkwan x reader#svt vernon#svt woozi#woozi x y/n#woozi x reader#svt jun
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