#she finally came back with the milk 🥹

[wacko-01]

This headhunting tickets are putting in work yo

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Is it broken?

aemond x betrothed!f!reader

Summary: Aemond finds out just how much care you need in the mornings. 

Warnings: 18+ innocent reader testing aemond’s composure, bathing, masturbation(f), fingering, oral(f), humping, slight cum play, unintentional edging and teasing bc aemond is fighting to hold onto his control he fails every time

Authors Note: my first aem request from @jacaerysonlywife 🥹💞 apparently i’m giving my innocent readers a soft pink mood board and ykw it’s what they deserve 🤗 i put some plot in this bc i can’t help myself when it comes to this man 

Word Count: 4.4k

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Every morning Aemond has the same routine of waiting outside of your chambers for you to greet him with a smile. Today he was able to spend an extra couple of minutes training because of your morning bath. After every bath he listens to your complaints of your handmaidens not seeing to all of your needs. He’s tried to help you come up with what to tell them but you still come to him with a fresh pout. The only way he can make you feel better is give you a hug and take you to the gardens.

You’re a little later than normal, not that he minds, he hopes your handmaidens have finally gotten something right. He leans against the wall fiddling with the hilt of his dagger waiting for you to come out and join him. He sighs when he sees your company of handmaidens walk out of your chambers with red faces.They avoid his gaze and wait to the side of the door as he walks up to it before turning back to them.

“Is she ready?” he asks lowly.

“No, my Prince.” one of them whispers. 

“Why not?” he sighs.

“She’s not happy. She won’t say. She told us to come get you.” he clenches his jaw at their words. 

How hard could it possibly be to bathe you? He knocks softly on your door before stepping into your chambers and softly clicking the door shut behind him. He looks around your chambers and his eye stops when he finds you still in the tub. His steps are slow and deliberate as he watches you sink lower into the water. He stops and grabs a stool to take a seat next to the tub. You scoot closer to the lip and rest your arms on it looking up at him with a small frown. 

“Why do you keep kicking your handmaidens out?” he hums, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. 

“They don’t know what I like.” you pout when he takes his hand away from you. 

“Did you tell them what we came up with?” he tilts his head picking up the cloth that’s resting over the tub, deciding to finish bathing you himself.

“No.” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“How are they going to know what you want then, sweet girl? Hm?” he sighs, reaching for your hand to begin washing you. 

“I don’t know.” your voice small as you look up at him. “Can you tell them to get my oils and my soaps?” you grab his hand. “This is just water that’s tepid.” you purse your lips and he dips his fingers in the water. 

“Mm,” his finger trails up your arm leaving droplets and goosebumps in their wake. “Is there anything else you need?” his eye meets yours and he tries to avoid looking at your heaving chest from his touch. He knows he should leave and call your handmaidens back in but he can’t find it in himself to go.

“Milk for my bath.” you whisper. 

“I’ll tell them.” he nods. “When they come back with what you desire I’ll let them bathe you.” he presses his lips to your forehead. “Then we’ll go on our morning walk.” he starts to rise. 

“Aemond,” your voice a plea as you reach out for his hand. “Can you?” you chew your lip. 

“Can I what?” he watches as you play with his fingers. 

“Bathe me. Your touch is softer.” you bring his hand to your mouth and press your lips against it. “Please,” your soft plea is music to his ears and he nods once. He doesn’t care if it’s indecent, you’ll both be wed by the end of the month.

“I’ll be right back.” he walks to the door and cracks it open and sees your handmaidens still waiting with their hands folded and heads down. “My betrothed requires soaps and oils, not just warm water. Bring another bucket of steaming water along with some milk and petals. Surely it’s not that hard to figure out what she needs.” he hisses, watching as their heads lower even more. “Go on then, with haste.” he clicks his tongue before sealing himself back in your chambers with you. 

“Thank you.” you watch as he slowly walks back over to you. “Can you just bathe me from now on?” you blink up at him as he stares down at you. 

“I’ll tell your handmaidens what you like.” his eye trails over the length of your body and he groans as you reach your hand up for him. 

“I want you, Aemond.” you grab for his hand. “Please, please, Aem,” you pull his hand down to you and he grunts taking a seat on the stool. “Aemond, please,” you get on your knees and he inhales sharply as he’s greeted by your breasts, willing his cheeks not to flush.

“I’ll see-“ a quick succession of knocks has Aemond standing up. “Lay back down.” he nods at you before going to the door and letting your handmaidens in with the baskets and buckets. They leave the extra supplies near the tub and are out the door before you can even offer them a small thanks. 

“What did you tell them to bring?” your eyes look over the baskets. 

“Hot water.” he picks up the bucket and empties it into your bath and you lean back, sighing as the warmth licks up your body. “Milk as you requested.” he trickles it down the length of the bath and watches you squirm as the cool liquid mixes with the water. “Your soaps and oils.” he brings the basket to the side to let you shuffle through and smell them. 

“I like this one best.” you place a small jar of sweet smelling soap in his hand. 

“And what oil would you like?” he tilts his head. 

“I don’t know yet. That’s for after the bath.” you look up at him and he chuckles softly. 

“Of course, I should’ve known.” he nods his head. “I had them bring some petals for you.” he brings the small box to the bath and takes his seat on the stool again. 

“Thank you,” your soft tone causes him to internally groan. 

He spreads the petals throughout the water and watches you mix everything together in the water. He picks up the cloth, adding soap to it and slowly starts to clean you watching you lean back against the tub. When he gets to your legs you allow him to lift them out of the water one at a time. He only washes up to your mid thigh not trusting himself enough to go further. You pout when he puts both of your legs back in the water and starts washing your back. 

“You missed a spot.” you turn your head to look at him. 

“Where did I miss?” he chuckles at your furrowed brow. 

“Between my thighs.” you grab his hand with the cloth. 

“I'm not supposed to go between your thighs, sweet girl.” his eye darkens as you pull his hand under the water.

“Why not?” you pout. “My handmaidens clean me there.” his back straightens when you brush his fingers against your center.

“Okay, okay,” he steels himself. “Let go of my wrist and I’ll take care of you.” you bring your hand back up to your chest and watch his face as he slowly slides the cloth against you. Aemond can’t help but let his fingers slide up your slit after the cloth and watch your cheeks flush. “Like this?” he hums and you nod your head.

“They’re usually less- Aem,” your hand reaches for his wrist again as he abandons the cloth and slides his fingers through your slit, unable to help himself. “Aemond,” you whine as your thighs clamp around his hand and he watches you suck your lip into your mouth. “Feels so- yes,” he groans at your soft whimper when he brushes against your bud. 

“Shh, shh,” his fingers swirl around your bud and your fingers dig into his wrist. He scolds himself and starts to pull his hand out from between your thighs. He knows he shouldn’t have even been in this position in the first place but you tug his hand back down. “What are you wanting me to do?” his voice strained. 

“I don’t know,” you whimper as his finger trails down your slit once more. “Feels so good Aem,” he watches your body tremble as he brings his fingers back up to your bud. “Mm, right there, yes,” your soft pleas go straight to his cock. 

“I should stop.” he brings his lip between his teeth watching you arch out of the milky water. 

“No, please don’t stop.” you hold his arm under the water. “Aemond please,” you gasp as he circles his fingers faster making the water start to slosh. The warm feeling in your stomach coils and your hips start to roll against his hand. “Why?” you let out a soft cry as he starts to remove his hand.

“Let me finish washing your hair and get you out.” he pulls his hand out of the water despite how you claw at him. He shakes his head at himself that he allowed his control to slip and touch you so intimately before your wed. Despite that fact, he desperately wants to hear more of your noises. 

“Aem, it hurts.” you put your hand under the water to replace his and gasp as you copy his movements. “Oh,” you gasp, feeling the difference in wetness from the water. “Aemond,” his name falls from your mouth breathlessly and he readjusts himself in his trousers. 

“Leave your little cunny alone.” he tsks pulling your hand from between your legs. “Lean back and let me wash your hair.” you whine, squeezing your thighs together as you do as he says.

Aemond has no idea how to steel himself for the rest of your bath if you’re going to keep up with your pouting and whining. He slowly trickles the water down your hair and listens to your soft hums as he runs his fingers through your hair. You slip your hand beneath the water hoping to recreate the feeling Aemond was offering you with his fingers. You start to squirm and tremble as he washes the soap out of your hair. 

“Aemond,” you whine as your hips chase your fingers. He flares his nostrils seeing your hand under the water once more.

“Gods,” Aemond groans, pulling your hand out of the water. “What did I say?” he stands and you look up at him with flushed cheeks. 

“But it hurts.” you whimper and he pulls you out of the bath and wraps you in a towel. “Is my cunny broken?” you turn and look up at him as he starts to rub the towel against you.

“No, it’s not broken.” he chuckles, walking you over to your wardrobe. 

“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at it.” he clenches his jaw and closes his eye to try and collect himself but when he looks down at you once more you have your towel dropped to the floor. “Can you check, Aem?” he watches you lay back on your chaise. 

“I’m not supposed to until after we wed.” he groans as you pull your legs up to your chest. 

“But you can touch it?” you tilt your head and his eye widens. “Please. Do you want them open like this?” you spread your legs apart. 

“Gods, you’re going to kill me.” he watches your slit glisten in the morning light. 

“If you won’t check can you call someone else in? Maybe a maester? I don’t know Aem, please.” you reach out for him. 

“I’m not calling a maester to come and play with your cunny.” he shakes his head at the thought. 

“Tell me how to make it feel better then.” you bring your fingers down between your legs and trail them up your slit. “Aemond please,” you look at him with flushed cheeks. “Your fingers felt better.” your body trembles as you swirl around your bud. 

“I shouldn’t.” his voice low and he knows he’s going to give in soon. He watches your legs start to shake around your hand as you start to move your fingers faster. His name is on your lips like a prayer and he decides he wants to make you come for the first time and for the rest of time. 

“Aemond,” your plea breaks his will and he’s on his knees in front of you pulling your hand away. 

“Let me check for you, sweet girl.” he looks up at you and you nod your head quickly. “Show me where it hurts.” he watches you nibble your lip and point to your bud. “Shall I kiss it to see if that makes it feel better?” he spreads your legs more, softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. 

“You want to kiss my cunny?” you squirm as he dips his head down. 

“I would like nothing more.” his eye flicks up to you. “But I’m asking you. Would you like me to kiss your aching cunny?” his breath fans over your center and you scoot closer to his mouth and he chuckles. 

“Yes.” you nod. “Please,” you squeak when he presses his lips to your thighs. He watches you dig your fingers into your blankets the closer he gets to your core. “Aemond,” you cry when he licks his tongue up your slit. 

He circles your bud and your breath catches when he starts to flick his tongue quickly. His lips encase your bud and you whimper above him rolling your hips against his face. He chuckles at your soft gasps and relishes in the way that you grind against him. He licks down to your core and pushes his tongue in and groans at your sweet taste. 

“Aem,” one of your hands grabs onto his that’s gripped on your hip when he licks back up to your bud and lashes against it quickly. “Mm, I- Aem, something’-“ he listens to your broken words as your body jolts. He licks faster and your whimpers become more high pitched. “Aemond please, I-“ intense pleasure washes through you and you hold onto his hands as if you're falling. He licks at you softly before moving back and looking at your heaving chest. 

“How does your cunny feel now, sweet girl?” he chuckles as you grab on his arms and pull him up to your lips. “Yeah? Did that feel good?” he mumbles against your lips slowly molding to you. His tongue slips into your mouth at the same time his fingers slide through your wetness. You whine into his mouth as his fingers start to swirl around you faster. 

“More.” you grab his hand and push it further down. “It hurts inside now.” you whine against his mouth and he groans. 

“Let’s get you dressed and see if it’ll stop.” you whimper as he lifts up from you and you wrap your arms around him, clinging to him. “Sweet girl.” he tries to keep his voice firm but it falters when you curl against him as he stands up with you. He has no choice but to hold your ass and he groans as you wrap your legs around him and bury your head in his neck.

“Aemond please,” you whine. “I think my cunny is begging for you.” his heart starts to beat faster and you squirm in his arms. 

“What about your oils? I had them brought up here.” he tries to coax you into doing something else. 

“After my oils then?” you press your lips to his neck. 

“We’ll see.” he chuckles as you start to untangle from him. He sets you down and you look up at him with a soft pout. “Enough with the pouting.” he grabs your chin. 

“Aem,” your voice dripping with need. 

“Go pick out an oil.” he turns you around and scoots you over to the basket. He’s thankful for the minute reprieve because if he doesn’t readjust his cock he’s sure it’ll split out of his trousers from how hard he is. 

“I picked this one.” you hum and walk over to him. 

“Remind me where we put this.” he plucks the jar from your fingers. 

“Everywhere.” you smile up at him. “It keeps me soft.” you step closer to him. 

“Very well.” he hums and twists the lid off. “Arm.” he holds his hand out for you. He tips the jar slightly and you jump when it meets your skin. 

“It’s cold.” you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

“It’ll warm up when I rub it in.” he nods slightly and gently massages the oil into your arm. He repeats the process on your next arm and he starts to kneel down to your legs when you stop him. 

“Aem you keep missing places.” you sigh loudly. 

“My apologies.” he chuckles. “Where have I missed now?” he watches you with a smile. 

“My chest.” his eye widens when you grab your breasts. He clears his throat and nods once. He brings the jar to your neck and slowly lets the oil drip down your chest and tries to calm his breathing. He watches your nipples harden as the oil meets them and you clench your legs. “Rub it in. It’s cold.” he can’t take his eye off your breasts. 

“Yeah, okay.” he nods, swallowing. He brings his hands to your breasts and stills. He startles slightly when your fingers wrap around his wrists and starts to move his hands. 

“Aem, you have to move your hands to rub the oil in.” you giggle. 

“Yes, I know, sweet girl.” he chews on his lip and starts to knead his hands into you. He spreads the oil up your neck and back down past your navel. His hands wrap around your waist before bringing them back up to engulf your breasts once more. He swipes his thumbs against your nipples and chuckles when you gasp. 

“Do that again.” you pant. He takes the hard peaks between his fingers and rolls them. “Oh,” you gasp. “More, Aem.” your breathing deepens as he softly pinches them. 

“No more.” he internally scolds himself for getting lost in you again. “I have to oil your legs now.” he removes his hands to grab the jar once more. He kneels down before you and drips some oil into his hands and starts to massage it into your legs. He makes sure to go to the tops of your thighs so you don’t pout that he ‘missed’ a spot. He even goes as far to rub some oil into your ass trying his hardest to ignore your pleas. “Let’s get you dressed.” he stands and leads you to the wardrobe. 

“But Aem my cunny needs-

“I need you to get some type of covering on. Even if it's just a slip. Sweet girl,” he sighs. “It’s hard for me to control myself around you right now.” you look up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Why?” you whisper. 

“Go sit on your chaise and I’ll start bringing things over to you.” he exhales shakily and walks over to your wardrobe. He grabs out a pair of stockings and stops when he hears you whine. “What’s wrong?” he prompts.

“I want my pink ones.” he nods at your whisper, not trusting himself to turn to you. He starts to pull a slip down when he hears you whine again. 

“Use your words. Tell me what you want.” he fists the silk of the current slip he’s holding. 

“I want a white slip. That pink one doesn’t match my stockings.” you chew your lip as he pulls down your white slip. 

“What color small clothes then?” he doesn’t even attempt to pick them out. 

“None. My cunny still hurts.” he closes his eye trying to find the restraint not to walk over to you and flip you over and take you. 

“Which dress would you like?” he trails his fingers across the line of dresses hanging. 

“I want to match you.” your words sink into his chest. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a black dress.” he chuckles thinking about it. “Do you even have one?” he looks around your wardrobe. 

“I do.” you get up and walk over to him. “It’s in the back there.” you point and he pushes the other dresses aside. “I had them make it for me. See it has darker blue for your sapphire and some silver because you like to train with swords. I was going to have them add some green for Vhagar but I think she deserves her own dress.” you look up at him and see his red cheeks. 

“I don’t..” he shakes his head. He never expected you to have a dress made that reminds you of him. “You’re too sweet to me.” he whispers and you pull him against you in a tight hug. 

“No I'm not.” you cup his face and bring him down to your lips. His hands rest on your waist and squeezes softly into your skin. 

“Let’s get you dressed.” he pulls back and sinks to his knees before you once more. He would never be on his knees for anyone else and the sight of you looking down upon him could send him down to his hands too if you so desired. He grabs the first stocking and taps your calf. You lift up your leg and he slides it up your leg before placing a kiss on your knee. He repeats this action with your other leg and looks over you only clad in stockings. “Gods you’re so beautiful.” you flush at his words. 

“So are you.” you whisper, brushing his hair back. He stands and grabs the slip, waiting for you to lift your arms. He slides the silk over your body and groans that seeing you like this is even more indecent than when you were bare. 

“Can I put your dress on or is your cunny still hurting?” he straightens out the neckline of your slip. 

“It still hurts.” you whisper, stepping closer to him.

“Come on.” he tugs you over to the bed. “We’re going to try something.” you nod your head quickly trailing after him. 

“Does your cock hurt too?” he stops at your words. “It’s been pushing against your trousers for a bit now.” you pout, pressing your palm against him. “Are we broken?” you squeeze your hand and he groans wrapping his fingers around your wrist. 

“We’re not broken.” he chuckles. “Go lay on the bed so we can make your cunny and my cock feel better.” he nods and watches you crawl into the center of the bed. 

“Can I see?” you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“See what?” he tilts his head. 

“Your cock, Aem.” you push your bottom lip out. “Please,” he’s undoing his belt at your words and you sit up and scoot towards him as he pushes them down enough to free himself. “I wanna-

“No, no,” he bats your hand away. “Lay back down, sweet girl.” he smiles when you listen and he crawls over you hoping that he has enough restraint to do this properly. “Gods,” he presses his forehead to yours when his tip slides up your slit. 

“Aemond,” your hands grip onto his shoulders as he slowly starts to slide up and down your slit. “Mm, Aem- yes,” your breathless pleas have him starting to hump against you faster trying to elicit more of your whimpers. 

“How does it feel?” he presses his lips to your neck while you squirm beneath him. Your hips buck up into his every time his tip brushes against your bud. He moves his hips faster listening to the sound of your wetness coat his length. “Tell me.” he smiles at your soft sounds. 

“Feels so good- I, Aem, please,” you tremble beneath him and he starts to move his cock through your wetness faster. “Aem it feels- something like,” your voice breaks into a soft cry. “Please,” you cling to him as you start to shake from your pleasure washing through you. 

“My cock thinks your cunny feels good too.” he smiles watching your face scrunch up as he becomes more coated as your pleasure pours out of you. He moves his hips faster looking for his own release. The sounds of your soft pleas and whimpers push him over the edge and his come starts to coat your cunny. 

“What’s this?” you reach down and swipe your thumb against his tip and he almost collapses on top of you as you rub his slit while he’s still coming. 

“Oh Gods, sweet girl.” he stills and grabs your hand. “It’s what I’m going to fill your sweet little cunny with once we’re wed.” you bring your hand up to your mouth and he watches you taste your mixed pleasure. 

“Why can’t you fill me with it now?” his cock twitches at your soft words.

“Stay here so I can clean us up.” he closes his eye and slowly stands up. He walks back over to the tub and grabs the discarded cloth. He wipes off his cock and situates himself before he walks back over to you on the bed. 

“Thank you.” you say softly as he wipes up your pleasure between your thighs. “Can we still go for a walk in the gardens?” you look up at him and he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Of course we’re still going to the gardens. Let me help you dress.” he helps you up off the bed and at last, finally begins to lift your dress up your body. 

“Do you think my flowers have finally begun to bloom?” you turn and look up at him once your dress is laced up. 

“Let’s go see.” he offers you a soft smile as he intertwines your fingers and leads you out of your chambers. 

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masterlist 🔌 

i want him to take care of me in the morning 😔 

Part 2

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers

[devilish-cherry]

ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot

"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."

₊⊹. ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ previous ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ next ꒱

ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: nanami lovers come get y'alls food

screaming and crying rn thank you all SO much for the wonderful feedback oh my god 😭🫶 i really do appreciate them so much and they really motivate me!! 🥹❤️ i got my tumblr properly set up now and if you wanna ask me any questions about this story or send any of your thoughts, headcanons, etc. i'd love to hear them!!

You could tell it was going to be a bad day the moment Greg the Manager said, "You got this!" before immediately disappearing into the back to not help you.

Greg had a habit of vanishing like a mirage whenever actual labor was required. If someone spilled an entire oat milk latte on the floor? Greg was gone. If a customer started a full-blown argument about why they should get free refills on an espresso shot? Greg had already ascended to another plane of existence. You were convinced that if the café ever caught fire, Greg’s survival instincts would have him teleporting to another country before the flames even reached the register.

Which meant that during the morning rush, when three separate customers decided to be human disasters at the exact same time, you were on your own.

Disaster #1: A guy aggressively insisted that his cappuccino did not have enough foam, despite the fact that it was all foam. You showed him. He stared at it like it had personally betrayed him. Then he said, “No, but like… more.” You fantasized about launching him into the sun.

Disaster #2: Some finance bro tried to pay with crypto. Just held up his phone with a QR code and said, “Do you guys take Ethereum?” You had to explain, with the patience of a kindergarten teacher, no, you do not take Ethereum, that this was just a café.

Disaster #3: An elderly woman came in and asked for “Just a plain coffee, dear.” You gave her a plain coffee. She stared at it in disgust and asked, “Where’s the hazelnut, the cream, the froth, the caramel?” You reminded her she asked for plain coffee. She gasped in betrayal, like you had taken her firstborn child.

It was too early for this. You were suffering.

Then when the morning rush finally slowed, and you had approximately thirty seconds to consider faking your own death, the bell jingled.

You turned, sighed, and mentally braced yourself.

Standing in the doorway, looking like he already regretted every decision that had led him here, was Kento Nanami.

Now, normally, you wouldn’t fear a customer. But Nanami wasn’t just any customer.

Nanami was a man with standards.

He stepped inside with the slow, deliberate movements of a man stepping into enemy territory. His eyes scanned the café—taking in the flickering light in the corner, the questionably sticky floor, the espresso machine currently making noises like R2-D2 in distress.

You watched as his jaw visibly clenched. Then, with the air of a man mentally calculating the exact moment his soul left his body, he turned to you and said, flatly:

“…Coffee.”

His tone carried the weight of a thousand disappointments.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, already reaching for a cup. “What kind?”

“The kind that keeps me from quitting my job.”

"Ah. Great choice."

You started his order, because Nanami seemed like the kind of man who would sue you if you took too long.

As you worked, you could feel him watching you in the way someone watches a building slowly collapse, calculating how much money it’ll take to fix it. You glanced up and, yep. There he was, observing your entire workplace with the deep, profound disappointment of a man who once believed in something.

“…Is this place even up to health code?” he asked, voice heavy with the kind of exhaustion that only corporate life could instill.

You shrugged. “Depends. Does emotional trauma count as a contaminant?”

Nanami inhaled sharply. Like he had so many follow-up questions, but he already knew the answers would only bring him pain

He rubbed his temples. “How long have you worked here?”

“Too long.”

You rang up the order, but before you could say the total, Nanami narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, gaze snapping to the handwritten tip jar sitting next to the register.

You had labeled it “THERAPY FUND (I Need It).”

Nanami stared at it.

Then, very slowly, he turned back to you.

“Barista,” he said, voice as grave as if he were delivering a eulogy. “Are you underpaid?”

Oh no.

You had expected at least a few minutes of polite small talk before things derailed into an existential crisis. But no. Nanami had walked in, assessed your suffering, and decided that labor rights violations were the only thing worth discussing today.

See, here’s the thing: Nanami was not the kind of customer you wanted asking this question.

Most people just laughed when they saw the tip jar. Some customers tossed in a few coins. Gojo once put in Monopoly money just to be annoying.

But Nanami?

Nanami had stopped functioning. He was just standing there, staring at you like this was a personal attack on his fundamental values.

"I mean…" You glanced toward Greg the Manager, who was still pretending to be useful. "I'm paid exactly what Greg thinks I'm worth."

Nanami followed your gaze. His expression darkened. His head then slowly turned toward Greg the Manager.

Greg the Manager, sensing a disturbance in the force, looked up, and gave him a lazy thumbs-up. “What’s up, man?”

"You are a terrible employer," Nanami stated calmly.

Greg the Manager blinked. "Huh?"

Without breaking eye contact, Nanami asked, "Are you even qualified to be a manager?"

Greg the Manager grinned and shrugged. “Dude, I got promoted because the last manager quit in the middle of a shift. Left a note that just said ‘don’t let the void consume you.’”

"Increase their pay. Immediately," Nanami ordered, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee like this was an organized coup.

Greg the Manager looked at you. Then at Nanami. Then at Candy Crush on his phone, like he was experiencing a full-blown existential crisis.

Finally, after what was possibly the longest pause in managerial history, he sighed and said, "We don’t have the budget for that."

Nanami closed his eyes. Like he was counting to ten so he didn’t commit a crime.

"I see," he said, calm but deadly.

You, deeply entertained but also slightly terrified, just leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I kinda figured that was gonna be the answer."

“Do you need me to unionize this café for you?” he asked, completely serious.

You choked.

“Wh—what?”

Nanami took off his blazer.

Oh god. Oh no. Oh absolutely not.

“I could do it,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves like he was about to commit a felony in the name of labor justice. “It wouldn’t be difficult.”

“No, no, no,” you said quickly, waving your hands in surrender. “I need this job. And more importantly, I need Greg to not fire me for trying to overthrow the capitalist machine during an unpaid break.”

Nanami narrowed his eyes.

“So you don’t even get paid for your breaks?”

You realized too late that you had given him more ammunition.

He put down his coffee and walked around the counter.

Fifteen minutes later…

Despite your best efforts to defuse the situation, Nanami refused to leave. Instead, he took it upon himself to observe the café.

"Uh," you said, watching as Nanami surveyed the espresso machine like a general strategizing a war. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing things," he replied.

And then. He started working.

Like, full-on working.

Nanami had entirely taken over.

He was managing the café now.

Not because anyone had asked him to, but because he simply could not stand the inefficiency.

He organized the supply shelves.

He rewrote the entire employee schedule in under five minutes.

He adjusted the espresso machine settings so that it no longer sounded like a portal to hell opening.

Greg was banned from touching anything mechanical.

He timed how long it took for Greg to actually respond to an employee’s request. (Four and a half minutes. Greg was playing a very intense round of Candy Crush.)

He watched you make drinks without proper training, without proper equipment, and without proper will to live.

And the best part?

Customers actually listened to him.

At one point, a woman tried to use an expired coupon.

Nanami just looked at her.

And she left without arguing.

You had never seen anything like it.

By the time your shift neared its end, the café had never been more efficient. The line moved quickly, orders were accurate, and for the first time in forever, you weren’t experiencing an existential crisis every five minutes.

Nanami took a slow sip of his coffee. Nodded, approving.

“This could be a functional workplace,” he remarked.

Greg the Manager, completely baffled, finally found his voice. 

"Uh," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Do you… do you wanna work here?"

Nanami, in the most disgusted tone you had ever heard, responded with a flat:  

"I would rather be hit by a bus."

He grabbed his coffee and headed towards the exit.

Fair.

And before he walked out, Nanami paused at the door, turned back, and said, completely seriously, with the voice of a man who had seen the horrors of corporate greed firsthand and was deeply, profoundly upset that you were willingly suffering through them—

“You deserve better than this place.”

And then he left.

Greg the Manager whistled. “Damn. Do you know if he's single?"

A few days later, your shift had started like any other mind-numbingly average shift.

You were in the middle of contemplating whether or not you could legally refuse service to people who ordered drinks with more adjectives than actual ingredients when you felt it. A sudden disturbance in the atmosphere.

It wasn’t anything obvious, but something about the café suddenly felt... wrong.

The espresso machine sputtered ominously, the fluorescent lights flickered just once, and the muffin guy in the corner finally looked away from his muffin, like even he could sense the disturbance in the air.

The door swung open with all the grace of a police raid.

It was Yuji. Sweet, cheerful, golden retriever in human form Yuji, who usually bounced into the café like he was the protagonist of a slice-of-life anime. But today?

Today, Yuji slinked in like he was some kind of villain in a psychological thriller. His whole posture had shifted—his shoulders squared, his head held high, a smug smirk tugging at his lips like he’d just orchestrated the downfall of a small nation.

Today, something was deeply wrong with Yuji Itadori. 

Yuji Itadori, the human embodiment of sunshine, had walked in looking like he had just finished his villain arc.

The first thing you noticed was the grin. It wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t normal. It was sharp and smug, like he knew things you didn’t. It practically screamed, I would gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss if given the chance.

You blinked at him.

Then you blinked harder.

Because Yuji, your number-one most harmless customer, now had face tattoos.

And red contacts.

And some kind of makeup that made it look like he had four eyes.

What in the Spirit Halloween was this?

“…Uh. You good?” you asked, hesitant.

Yuji (?) grinned at you, and you immediately regretted all your life choices.

“Barista,” he said, his voice deeper, richer, like the audio settings had been cranked to "Villain Monologue."

“...Yes?”

Yuji (??) tilted his head, watching you with an expression that was just this side of amused. “What pitiful existence is this? Shackled to the whims of labor, toiling away for mere scraps. Your suffering is profound, lowly peasant."

…Huh.

Okay. That was new.

You blinked, internally processing the fact that someone had just called you a lowly peasant in real life. You had encountered a lot of weird customers, but never one who spoke like a Final Boss trying to recruit you to the dark side.

“…You want a drink?” you asked, deadpan.

Yuji (???) tilted his head, smirking. Then, with the audacity of someone who had never experienced the horrors of customer service, he said: “Ah, you are not as foolish as you look. Give me a black coffee."

Wow. Okay. Somebody thinks they’re edgy.

For a second, you considered saying just that, but decided against it, because rent existed and so did unemployment. Instead, you just nodded like the underpaid, overworked soldier you were.

“Sure. One black coffee.”

You had seen a lot of weird things working here, but this? This was a new level of concerning.

The face tattoos, paired with the weird four eyes effect (which you assumed had to be some next-level Halloween makeup), it made him look like he was either an anime villain or a kid who got way too into Hot Topic in 2009. And the way he was looking at you? Like he was already planning your demise? Like he was debating whether he wanted to drink his coffee or use it to summon a demonic entity?

You knew exactly what this was.

Yuji had an alter ego.

And apparently not a fun alter ego, like a guy who only comes out on weekends to party. No, this was a full-blown anime villain alter ego. One that absolutely vaped in the school bathroom and got into fights over stupid things like “who looked at me wrong.”

You didn’t get paid enough for this.

"Make it strong," he sneered.

You stared at him. "Wouldn’t dream of making it weak."

Yeah. You were deeply, deeply concerned.

But, like all things in this job, you simply ignored it and did your job. Because you did not get paid enough to ask questions. With your usual efficiency, you made the black coffee, because unfortunately, that was your job, and placed it in front of him. “Enjoy.”

Yuji eyed the coffee cup like it had personally offended him, then looked at you. “You dare serve me coffee in such a humble vessel?”

You looked at the cup. Then back at him. “You want a goblet or something?”

He smirked. “Ah, you do have some wit.”

You didn’t like how pleased he sounded. He picked it up, and took a slow sip. Then, ever so slightly, his eyes narrowed. His upper lip curled.

“…What the hell is this?” he muttered.

“Black coffee,” you said flatly. “Like you asked for.”

Yuji made a noise of profound offense. “It is bitter.”

Your deadpan stare could have melted steel. “Yes. That’s what black coffee is.”

Yuji clicked his tongue in distaste. “This is an insult.” He shoved the cup back at you like you had personally wronged him. “Remedy this.”

You sighed. “Okay. How about I just add sugar?”

Yuji considered this. Then, begrudgingly, he nodded. “Very well. But do not disgrace my drink.”

You poured in exactly one sugar packet, stirred it, and handed it back. He took another sip—

And then narrowed his eyes, looking at you like you had just personally surprised him. His eyes flickered, as if waging a silent internal war. You swore you saw his jaw tense.

Then, after a very long pause, he muttered, “…Acceptable.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

Before you could even process the fact that you had somehow earned the approval of whatever persona Yuji was currently cosplaying, he turned—and proceeded to roast every single customer in the café. He leaned back against the counter, looking around the café with the slow, deliberate assessment of a man who had already decided he was better than everyone here.

Then, with the confidence of a man who believed himself to be a god, he sneered, “This place is full of idiots.”

Okay. Wow.

You stood there, watching as he proceeded to roast every single customer in the café like it was his divine right.

“That weakling in the corner?” He jerked his thumb toward some poor college student trying to write an essay. “His posture is absolutely pathetic.”

The innocent college student looked up, deeply confused and a bit hurt.

Then he turned to some girl at a table near the window. She looked up, mid-sip of her drink, just in time for him to smirk and say, “You look like you order matcha lattes.”

She gasped in pure horror as if he had personally insulted her entire bloodline.

He sneered at an elderly woman. “Trembling hands, weak posture… You are but a breath away from oblivion, hag.”

Oh my God.

She just smiled at him. “Oh, you kids and your funny little jokes!”

He blinked. Then scoffed and turned away, muttering something about "insufferable fools" under his breath.

At this point, you were begging someone to explain what the hell was happening.

You should stop this. You should stop this.

…But you were also kind of invested.

“Oh look,” he sneered, eyes landing on Greg the Manager, who had been doing nothing as usual. “A man who’s mastered the ancient art of pretending to work.”

Okay, well. That one was fair.

And then he set his sights on the espresso machine.

The espresso machine, naturally, took that moment to emit a guttural, otherworldly groan—one that sounded less like it was brewing coffee and more like it was summoning a demon from the seventh circle of hell.

He stared at it. It hissed.

You swore he narrowed his eyes like he was assessing a battlefield opponent. Then, after a long pause, he let out a dark chuckle.

“…This machine is cursed beyond mortal comprehension.”

You stared at him. "You done?"

He exhaled, clearly unimpressed by the café and everything in it. "For now."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out the door, exuding the kind of ominous aura that suggested he was about to go stand on a rooftop somewhere and monologue about the nature of existence.

Wonderful. You loved your job.

The café was silent and then, minutes later—

The door slammed open.

Yuji rushed in, breathless, frantic, eyes wide with panic. He looked deeply horrified. He looked like a man who had just woken up from a fugue state and realized he had committed multiple felonies.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, hands on his knees, like he had just sprinted a marathon, and looking at you with absolute devastation. “I— I am so sorry— please, please don’t ban me—”

“...What the hell was that?” you asked, even though, frankly, you didn’t actually want the answer.

Yuji laughed nervously. “Uh. Would you believe me if I said ‘don’t worry about it’?”

“No.”

“Cool! Because, uh, I really can’t explain.”

You stared at him. He stared back.

Then, very slowly, you reached for a rag and began aggressively wiping down the counter.

“Alright,” you muttered. “Not my problem.”

“Wait, seriously? You’re just gonna ignore this?”

“Yuji, I have seen so many things at this job that I actively choose to ignore,” you said flatly. “This is just another one.”

Yuji looked like he wanted to argue. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair.”

Unfortunately for you, this wasn’t the last time it happened.

Because 'Sukuna'—as you’d overheard Yuji frantically whispering to himself—returned.

Twice.

In one week.

You were growing concerned.

The first time, he strutted in like a menace, demanded another black coffee, insulted two customers, and then dipped like he had better things to do.

The second time, he walked in, took one look at Greg the Manager, and muttered, "This establishment is doomed."

Honestly? Hard to argue.

₊⊹. tag list: @alpha-mommy69

[paarksunghoon]

HAIII it is ur fav person ever (Joking. unless...) sorry i didnt send an ask today morning (or night for u idk) i was busy trying to lock in, failed at it, took a nap, went to uni, came back n then finally locked in (face sitting w nerd chan sometimes my brain amazes me) BUT ANYWAYS! how are u my baby i hope u r doing well n that ur road trip went good!!! if u want i can share my chan playlist w u bcs it has cute love songs on it or give u some skz recs if u haven't fully checked out their discography cus tee bee eich idk how much of skz u actually know...

anyways u asked for a separate deep honey ask so i am delivering teehee but basically everything abt deep honey is my favourite duh!!! i loved the way hoon basically immediately took y/n into his arms the minute he saw her like no questions asked nothing or how he held her like a lil baby when they were in heeseung's room n brushed her tears away n gave her kisses :( the line of how he says he'd come running to her in a heartbeat n how u described him loving her like she's the only woman he's ever loved in his life was so so sooooo sweet i need a love like that so bad bcs he is just the most precious boy ever 🥹🥹 n then hee jay n jake all ordering her fav food n comforting her n jaeyun calling y/nhoon cuties ohhhh mannnn n OMG WAIT LISTEN... imagine an extension of deep honey universe where jake gets his own girl or smth... he meets her at a bookstore n tries reading her fav books in order to strike up conversation w her but he gets the details wrong n stumbles over his words n she just giggles at him n he asks for her number n GRRRRRRR MY JAEYUNIE

anyways if u have any more thoughts on deep honey u would like 2 share w the class i will be happy to listen to u 😇😇 as always much love from #1 paarksunghoon stan aka me n i hope u have the bestest day to come today n tmr n every other day for the rest of ur life i love u

— ur fav dh (altho im off priv but u can keep tagging me as this n i will keep signing off as this lolz)

hi!! send at your leisure. my inbox welcomes you whenever you want to stop by.

life is pretty difficult these days for a multitude of reasons. road trip was good, I’m happy to be reconnecting with a lot of friends I haven’t seen in a while. tomorrow I’m seeing a friend I met at my last enha concert because we both went alone and ended up talking + exchanging socials. suuuper excited

I like skz! they aren’t in my ults list but I appreciate their music and admire their production skills. han and I would so be best friends.

I love that you love deep honey. everything I write has a little bit of myself in there so it makes me happy to know this resonated with you. I felt quite soft when I wrote it. forever wishing I could hug sunghoon on the good and bad days. I also have a separate little jake wip in the works that originally wasn’t in the deep honey universe buuuut I might twist it a little and make my own literary universe.

I’d love to imagine deep honey sunghoon really loves to hold hands in public as opposed to full on PDA. he and his gf are really into movies + dinner (after watching) and he’s probably on the more reserved side, so he’ll let her talk and talk until he gets motivated to share his opinions. jay probably has to tell them to shut up if they all watch movies in his apartment bc they get so energetic 😭

eventually, yn probably gets really comfortable with sunghoon’s friends too (they did see and hear her sob her eyes out). hoon’s the type to always tell them random facts about her so they know things about her and she’s like ?? how do u know that ?? for example they know her top 3 cocktail orders so if she’s running late they get her one she likes. they probably know types of restaurants she likes so if no one knows where to go, they’ll pick something sunghoon mentioned. 1000% they know how she takes her coffee (vanilla latte with oat milk, half sweet) so if they go out when she’s not there, they always bring one back for her 😆

jakeyn = power best friends; yn will listen to him talk about this really cute girl who he accidentally spilled coffee on and needs advice on how to talk to her (from said wip); jake will playfully get mad @ her for “stealing” sunghoon; very sibling type of relationship

jayyn = chaotic duo; cracking really bad jokes that everyone tolerates; probably the first to be level headed when planning things (everyone leaves it up to them to plan hang outs because they have an #itinerary); in charge of shopping/ordering food because they always know how much to get without going overboard

heeyn = calm duo; heeseung brings out the more quiet side of yn and they could sit in the same room for hours, not say a word but do their own thing, and count that as quality bonding time; will text in depth about philosophical and life shit; they go to each other for advice a lot (yn will go to him first if hoon isn’t available and heeseung will send her 6 minute audio messages)

not unusual for yn to hang out with them without sunghoon because in my head, male/female friendships can 100% be platonic. sunghoon isn’t threatened but will still be all kissy kissy with her in front of them

sunghoon when he sees yn and his friends get close: back off that’s my gf

heeseung, jay, jake: ew she’s like my sister

sunghoon: wdym you guys don’t find her hot

heeseung, jay, jake: ???

[kaaayeomi]

( LOVE COUNTDOWN ! )

———

profile one : gay furries

master list

descriptions !

park jiyeop : 01’ liner. our main character! best friends with txt. is pretty dumb but believes he’s einstein’s great grandchild 🤓. cousins with park jisung. childhood best friends with kim minjeong. left to the u.s 3 years ago and finally came back.

choi yeonjun : 99’ liner. jiyeop’s his favorite, but you didn’t hear it from me. met jiyeop through beomgyu and instantly claimed he didn’t like the boy but started warming up as time moved on. pretends to hate jiyeop but in reality, deeply cares for him.

choi soobin : 00’ liner. oh god, a sweetheart ☹️🫶. the only reason why all the boys are even alive. peace maker of the group! loves all his friends dearly and doesn’t want anything bad happening to them. can get sassy if bothered!

choi beomgyu : 01’ liner. a menace. quite literally, i mean, he puts milk before cereal. jiyeop’s biggest fan boy. encourages jiyeop in his bad decisions. he met jiyeop first through a video game tournament. jiyeop was in the u.s during that time so they couldn’t meet instantly but when they did, they were inseparable! 🥹

kang taehyun : 02’ liner. claims that the world revolves around him. despite his sassy 💁‍♂️ behavior, he knows where to draw the line between being funny and actually hurting his friends feelings. is friends with park jisung.

huening kai : 02’ liner. has a weird minion obsession. but we don’t judge him! he just loves those adorable little yellow shits. claims to have been a minion in his past life. tried to learn the minion language [ key word : ‘tried’ ]. only ate bananas for a year and a half to see if he would turn into a minion 😟. always goes to jiyeop if he has any problems. older brother of huening bahiyyih.

nobodyatall : 01’ liner. jiyeop’s extra secret priv.

synopsis : winter has always admired you from a far. even when you two were children. despite her clearly showing she has feelings for you, you thought she was just being friendly. but after 3 years of not seeing each other, you finally decided to come back. and winter still has the same feelings as before.

authors note : and so it has begun! i do tend to experience writers block (which is primarily the reason why i’ve been putting this idea to the side for so long) so i’ll try to update as soon as i get an idea! i’ll start working on the first chapter asap. hopefully this series doesn’t flop 🤣. please excuse my god awful humor.