#sorry if youre already familiar! you might be!

[qwibkwib]

Deception

Series: Promised 9 Chapter - 2

Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 Baek Jiheon (Fromis_9) X Male reader Word Count: 11.1k+

a/n: It might look inconsistent but bear with me. i omitted the reader's given name this time. Recap: After a long shift, you left your bag at the Golden Brew café and returned to retrieve it—only to stumble upon a secret gathering of nine women, some familiar, some famous. The next day, your memory was hazy, but the illusion shattered when Chaeyoung confronted you. With a veiled threat, she led you to a hotel, ensuring a sleepless night.

You stir awake to the soft rustle of fabric and the faint, lingering scent of lavender. Morning light seeps through the curtains, casting the room in a muted gold. Every muscle in your body protests as you shift beneath the tangled sheets, memories of the night before flickering like fragments of a dream.

By the window, Chaeyoung stands wrapped in a silk robe that clings to her frame like liquid. She gazes out at the city below, her expression unreadable—calm, distant, almost detached. But when she notices you stirring, a sly smile tugs at her lips.

“Finally awake?” Her voice is a low purr, amusement dancing in her eyes.

You sit up, raking a hand through your disheveled hair. “What did you mean earlier… about it being a long day?” Your voice scrapes raw, throat dry from lack of sleep.

She turns, gliding toward the bed with effortless grace. “You’ll see,” she says, deliberately vague. Her robe slips slightly off one shoulder as she leans against the bedpost, watching you.

You glance at the clock on the nightstand and freeze. Shit. “What time is it?”

“Thirty minutes past your last alarm,” she replies, tracing a finger along the edge of the bedsheet.

“You looked so peaceful. I thought I’d let you sleep a little longer.”

“Peaceful?” You groan, scrambling for your clothes strewn across the floor. “I’m late for my shift. Gyuri’s going to skin me alive.”

Chaeyoung tilts her head, her smile sharpening. “Relax. I’ll call her. Tell her you’re… detained.”

You pause mid-motion, shirt halfway over your head. “But they’ll know I remembered everything. The meeting, the Nine—”

“They already know, silly.” Her laugh is light, almost musical. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

You glare at her, but she only smirks, unfazed.

As you yank your shoes on, her voice stops you at the door. “Oh, and if any of the girls ask why you were with me…” She pauses, her gaze sharpening. “Just tell them Saerom will explain.”

You frown, adjusting your bag. “Saerom? The one you called earlier? Is she your… captain?”

Chaeyoung’s lips twitch. “You could call her that. Trust me, it’ll be enough.”

You hold her gaze, searching for answers she’ll never give, before turning away. Her soft laughter follows you out like a ghost.

~~~

The bell above Golden Brew's door jingles as you slip inside, the café's warmth enveloping you—rich coffee, buttery pastries, the hum of morning chatter. But the comfort evaporates the moment Gyuri's voice slices through the noise.

"You're late."

She stands behind the counter, arms crossed, her usual warmth replaced by a frosty glare. The air around her crackles with unspoken tension.

You duck behind the counter, fumbling with your apron. "Sorry, I was—"

"With Chaeyoung?" Her tone is sharp, eyes lingering on the faint mark peeking above your collar.

Your cheeks flush, guilt and shame mingling. Of course she'd notice. "Look, I can explain—"

"Save it." She cuts you off, turning to aggressively wipe down the counter. "I trusted you to be professional. To respect this workplace."

You catch what you think is hurt in her voice, and your stomach twists. Great. Now Gyuri thinks you're fooling around with Chaeyoung instead of working. "It's not what you think. Chaeyoung, she..." You swallow hard. "She said Saerom would explain everything."

The name hits like a thunderclap. Gyuri freezes mid-motion, the rag clenched in her fist. "Saerom?" she echoes, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"That's what Chaeyoung told me," you say, watching her reaction carefully.

The anger in Gyuri's face transforms into something else entirely – fear? She sets down the rag with deliberate slowness, her hands trembling slightly. "Of course she did," she mutters, more to herself than you. When she looks back, her eyes are haunted. "She dragged you into this, didn't she?"

Your confusion grows. This isn't the reaction of a jealous boss anymore. "Into what? It's not like I had a choice—"

"You always have a choice," she snaps, then catches herself, voice softening to something almost desperate. "You could've come to me first. I could've... protected you."

The words hang between you, heavy with meaning you can't quite grasp. Your earlier assumption about jealousy crumbles, replaced by creeping unease.

"Protected me from what?" You step closer, frustration boiling over. "From them? From whatever this is? What aren't you telling me?"

Gyuri's expression shutters closed, professional mask sliding back into place. "You're a good kid," she says flatly, already turning away. "Like you said... Saerom will explain."

The dismissal stings. Before you can retort, she's already vanished into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the echo of her silence.

Your phone vibrates. Reaching into your pocket, the blue screen flashes your eyes, you find messages from a familiar name.

"Where did you sleep? I went to your dorm this morning you weren't there."

The message feels oddly natural. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep in the dorm, something unexpected came up"

"okay I wont ask more..."

You turn back to work, focusing on the morning rush. The steam wand screams as you foam milk for a cappuccino. Another message.

"Can you grab my textbook from your place when you're done with work?"

You pause. Her textbook? Right – the calculus one she left last week when you were studying. The memory feels hazy, but it must have happened.

"Sure, which one was it again?"

The morning blurs between orders and conversations. A businessman wants his Americano extra hot. A student spills her latte. Your phone buzzes.

"The blue one! Don't tell me you're using it as a coaster again "

You smile, remembering the water ring on her– wait. When did that happen?

"I would never," you type back, uncertain why you're playing along.

The cafe fills with the lunch crowd. While preparing a sandwich, another message arrives.

"By the way, I cooked seaweed soup for you, to bad you weren't there this morning, you know the one that you kept asking me to cook?"

You blink. You were craving for some seaweed soup recently . Though you don't remember asking her for it. But there's that image – her concentrating, in the kitchen one hand om the ladle the other on her phone, trying out the recipe– No. That couldn't have happened. Could it?

"I'm sorry," you reply simply, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

More customers. More drinks. More messages that feel like pieces of a life you're not quite sure about.

"Hey, I can still stay over this weekend right? You promised." (Have you agreed for her to sleep in your dorm?)

"Don't forget your umbrella today!" (How did she know about the forecast?)

Each message slots perfectly into your day, filling gaps you didn't know existed. The strangest part is how unstrange it feels.

When lunch break arrives, you check your messages one last time:

"Let's grab dinner at the usual place? 7pm?"

You stare at the screen. The usual place. Of course – that small restaurant around the corner. The one with the red awning and the owner who always gives you extra–

You stop yourself. What usual place?

"Sounds good," you type anyway, wondering why your response feels so automatic.

You unconsciously find yourself scrolling back at your conversation, seeking comfort after the tense morning with Gyuri. The messages flow past your screen, and something warm unfurls in your chest. Of course – the usual place. That hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the engineering building where she always claims their kimchi stew tastes just like her grandmother's.

Three months ago: "Made it to Prof. Tan's seminar! Saving you a seat " Your lips curve into a smile, remembering how she'd dash across campus between classes just to sit together in Advanced Economics. The way she'd slide her coffee over when yours ran empty.

Six months ago: "Still up for study group? The midterms are killing me" The memory settles in naturally – hours in the library's third floor, her head bent over statistical models, the way she'd explain complex theories with perfectly simple analogies. That was before you picked up the cafe job, wasn't it? But the timeline feels right somehow.

A year ago: "Thanks for helping with my research paper! Dinner's on me " The quiet booth at the back of the restaurant, her excited chatter about her findings, how one dinner turned into regular study dates – everything feels right. Why were you questioning this earlier? The memories slot into place like they've always been there.

Your thumb traces over her messages, each one a reminder of shared moments between classes and coffee runs. The morning's uncertainties fade away, replaced by a gentle certainty. Of course she's worried about where you slept. Of course she checks on you. Of course she remembers which days you have back-to-back lectures.

Suddenly a hand taps on your shoulder.

"Hey, take your lunch break." Gyuri's voice carries that familiar warmth, her smile back as if your morning argument never happened.

You nod, already reaching for your phone to tell her you're heading out for lunch. How strange that you felt confused earlier. Must be the lack of exhaustion from everything that has been happening lately, you think, as you type out a quick "On break now, can't wait for dinner "

"Your on lunch break? Where?" she quickly replies.

"Probably just by the nearby konbini, by the campus, why do you want to have lunch together?" You ask her.

"I would love to, but my lecture just started" she replies.

The konbini's automatic doors slide open with a familiar chime. You grab your usual lunch combo – instant noodles, a triangle kimbap, and milk. The perfect trio. The cashier barely looks up as you pay, already familiar with your routine purchases.

Outside, you find a quiet spot on one of the concrete benches. The noodles steam in the cool air as you stir them, your phone silent now that she's in class. The sky above is a brilliant, crystal blue – the kind of blue that makes you think of clear water, of deep ocean trenches, of falling...

A peculiar heaviness settles over you as you finish the last of your milk. Your eyes drift upward again, drawn to that hypnotic blue expanse. It seems to pulse gently, like a heartbeat, like a lullaby. Your thoughts begin to blur at the edges, memories swirling like cream in coffee – the morning rush at the cafe, Gyuri's smile, messages on your phone, that familiar name, those shared memories that feel more real with each passing moment...

The empty milk carton slips from your fingers as your eyelids grow impossibly heavy. The last thing you see is that endless blue sky, beautiful and terrifying in its perfection, before darkness claims you.

~~~

You wake up with barely enough time before your shift starts. Gathering yourself, you rush back to the Golden Brew. You were already late this morning – being late again in the afternoon will definitely anger Gyuri, especially after the sour conversation you had.

As you run towards the cafe, you realize the nap left you feeling unusually refreshed, more than any normal rest could provide. The body aches you'd been expecting to endure all day have vanished. Your thoughts, heavy with recent events, now feel unexpectedly light.

Your mood lifts further as you step into the cafe. The familiar coffee scent, the cozy atmosphere, the gentle hum of the coffee machine – everything feels right.

You greet Gyuri with a smile, only to find her eyes already fixed on you. There's something different about her look, something you've seen before – her eyes sharp, searching for something.

"You're back. You seem happy." Her voice carries a concern that feels deeper than usual. "Did you meet with someone?"

"No." You smile at her specific query. "Just grabbed lunch at the konbini, got a short nap afterwards."

"Nap? At the konbini?" Gyuri doesn't look convinced. She studies you for a long second before nodding, though the furrow in her brow remains. "If you say so," she murmurs, but there's an edge in her tone that suggests she isn't letting this go.

You clock in and don your apron, moving behind the counter. Seoyeon catches your eye, still in her usual spot, focused intently on her laptop screen. You'd been about to wonder where she was – and there she is, as if summoned by the thought.

Between customers, you reach for your phone to continue your earlier conversation, but the front door's bell interrupts you. Regular customers enter – the usual trio, except they're missing someone. Your eyes automatically search for the third, and an unexpected disappointment settles in your chest.

"Good afternoon, just the two of you?" you ask as you serve their orders.

"Why, are you looking for her? Disappointed it's just us?" One of them teases as they both giggle.

You smile, unable to mask your honesty. "Yeah," you reply shyly. "Where is she?"

"She said she can't come with us, their professor doesn't want to end the class," one explains.

"Also, why are you asking us? You could ask her yourself," the other quickly adds.

"Maybe I should. Thanks," you say, taking their advice.

Back at the counter, you pull out your phone, opening the messages. 'I would love to, but my lecture just started' was the last message of your conversation.

"Hey, heard you're still in class. Your friends were just here. Have you eaten yet?"

'Seen'

The notification catches you off guard. It's not unbelievable, but it's something she rarely does.

"Jiheon?"

You message her name just to be sure.

"Sorry, I was packing up my stuff, the lecture just finished," Jiheon replies.

"I didn't have lunch yet. I'll just wait at your dorm, I'll be eating the soup I left there earlier," she continues.

"Can I?" she asks for permission.

"Of course, I'll finish my shift then go home," you reply.

"I'll be waiting," comes her final message.

“Hey…” Gyuri’s voice pulls you back to the present. “You’ve been fiddling with your phone. Is something wrong? You never do that.”

You blink, realizing you've been staring at your screen for too long.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” You bow your head slightly, but her words linger—You’ve never done this before.

You slip your phone into your pocket, exhaling softly. A warm contentment settles over you, pushing away the earlier unease—the confusion about Jiheon’s messages, the odd gaps in your shared memories, all of it dissolving like morning mist.

Of course, Jiheon would be waiting at your dorm. Of course, she'd eat the soup she made.

Of course, everything is exactly as it should be.

The afternoon light streaming through the cafe windows takes on that same crystal blue tint from your lunch break, but you hardly notice it now. You're too busy thinking about getting home.

~~~

You barely reflected on it, but now as each step brings you closer to your dorm, the weight of your guilt feels heavier.

Hesitant until the last moment, you finally knocked on your own door. No response.

“Jiheon?” You called out.

You step inside, closing the door softly behind you. Each movement feels heavy, like the air itself is resisting you. Jiheon lays there, her chest rising and falling gently, her face serene, untouched by the chaos inside you. She looks so delicate, so trusting, and it only deepens the ache in your chest.

Your thoughts swirl relentlessly as you stand frozen near the door. How could you do this? How could you betray her like that? You clench your fists, the guilt eating away at you. It wasn’t just Chaeyoung’s fault, or your inability to resist—it was you. You crossed the line, and no excuse could absolve you of that.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly walk to the edge of the bed and sit down carefully, not wanting to wake her just yet. The sight of her so peaceful and vulnerable makes it harder to hold everything in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper under your breath, the words meant more for yourself than her.

But as if she’d heard, Jiheon stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She blinks a few times, disoriented, before her gaze lands on you. A soft smile spreads across her lips, one that feels like both a comfort and a dagger to your heart.

“You’re home,” she murmurs, her voice groggy but warm. “You okay? You look… tired.”

“I am,” you admit, though the exhaustion isn’t just physical. “Did you eat yet?”

“Yeah, I saved you some soup,” she says, stretching as she walks toward the kitchen. “I'll heat it up for you.”

As she busies herself with the soup, you watch her familiar movements—the way she hums while stirring, how effortlessly she navigates your cramped dorm. The domesticity of it all should bring you comfort, but instead, it leaves you feeling even more unsettled.

When the soup boils, she turns off the stove and brings the pot to the table, gently guiding you to sit down.

She scoops some soup with a spoon, blows on it, and holds it out to you. “Come on, eat. You've been asking for this all week,” she says with a soft smile.

“Jiheon, we need to talk,” you start, the heaviness in your chest almost unbearable.

She sits across from you, brushing her hair out of her face. “Is something wrong?” she asks, her tone light, though her eyes search yours with quiet concern.

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Her care, her worry—it makes the guilt even sharper. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve her.

“I—” you begin, but she cuts you off, placing a hand gently over yours.

“Whatever it is,” she says softly, “it can wait. You’ve had a long day.”

“No, Jiheon.” You shake your head, pulling your hand away gently. “I need to tell you something. About last night.”

For a moment, her expression falters. A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face, but she quickly forces a soft smile—one that feels more like a shield. “Last night? You mean after work?”

You nod, barely able to meet her gaze. “Something happened, and I—”

“Stop.” Her voice is gentle but firm, cutting through your confession. She leans forward, cupping your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t need to hear it.”

“But—”

“Please.” Her voice trembles slightly, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Let’s not… let’s not talk about it, okay? Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I just need you to be here. With me.”

“I shouldn't, Jiheon. I’ve wronged you…” you begin, your voice cracking under the weight of your guilt.

“No, you could never do that, okay?” she says, her voice trembling now. “You could never wrong me.”

“Whatever happened that night, I forgive you,” she says, her panic slowly building. “Just… just forget about it, okay?”

As you glance away, the soft glow of the kitchen light catches the steam rising from the soup, refracting faintly against the walls in muted blues and silvers. For a moment, the reflection dances across your peripheral vision, subtle and natural, like a ripple in the air. Your gaze lingers, and without realizing why, you feel the tightness in your chest loosen.

It’s a fleeting, delicate moment—the kind you might’ve ignored on any other night—but it soothes you. The guilt that felt immovable now feels lighter, as though the air itself is urging you to stay, to let go of the weight pressing on your heart.

“We’ve… we’ve been through worse. We can move past this, right?” she reasons, her voice pulling you back. Her words carry the same desperate edge, but the calm from that fleeting moment lingers within you.

“You know I love you, right? Nothing’s going to change that.” Her voice cracks, and tears begin to swell in her eyes.

“No matter what happened, it’s fine. Just don’t leave me… You know I can’t live without you. Please…” she begs, her voice breaking into sobs. Your heart aches as you reach for her, pulling her into your arms.

“I’m sorry, Jiheon. I shouldn’t have thought of leaving. I’m sorry,” you whisper, realizing the mere idea of it is what hurts her most, the guilt now quieted by something warmer, more resolute.

You press a kiss to her forehead and lock eyes with her, tears pooling in your own. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, knowing it will never be enough, but hoping—praying—it can at least start to mend the cracks.

As the tension lingers in the room, Jiheon’s sobs soften, her hands clutching at your shirt as though afraid to let go. You hold her closer, your chin resting on the top of her head.

“I’m here,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm, as if trying to convince her as much as yourself.

Jiheon slowly pulls back just enough to look at you, her tear-streaked face lit with a bittersweet smile. Her gaze searches yours, still heavy with unspoken questions, but she says nothing. Instead, she cups your face with trembling hands, her thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks.

“Promise me,” she whispers, her voice raw. “Promise me you won’t leave.”

You nod, your forehead pressing against hers. “I promise.”

Her breath hitches, and before either of you can second-guess the moment, her lips find yours. The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, as though she’s testing the waters. But as the seconds stretch, it deepens, her desperation and longing pouring into you.

You respond in kind, your hands slipping to her waist, pulling her closer. The room feels smaller now, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The weight of guilt and exhaustion begins to melt away, replaced by the warmth of her touch and the comfort of her presence.

Her fingers wove into your hair, tugging gently as her lips pressed against yours, moving with a hunger that made your pulse race. Her breaths quickened, shallow and uneven, mingling with yours as the kiss deepened. When you finally broke apart, just enough for air, she rested her forehead against yours, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, her half-lidded eyes brimming with emotion.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute, the words carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.

“I love you, too,” you replied, the confession slipping from your lips effortlessly, as though it had been waiting to be spoken all along.

Her lips crash against yours again, fiercer this time, fueled by an unspoken urgency. Your fingers find hers, weaving together in a silent promise, gripping tighter as the intensity builds. Her soft, breathy moans are swallowed into the heat of your kiss, felt more than heard, trembling against your lips.

Your tongue slips past her parted lips, tangling with hers in a slow, deliberate exploration. Gasps mingle in the space between you, each one drawing you deeper, pulling you further into the feverish heat of her touch. The air thickens, the world beyond this moment blurring into nothing as the kiss deepens, as the fire between you ignites into something undeniable.

Then—clank.

The sound slices through the tension like a needle through silk. The cup tumbles from the table, liquid spilling in a slow, creeping pool across the floor. Jiheon’s hand, still hovering where it knocked the cup, twitches slightly—caught between embarrassment and the lingering heat of your touch.

You both flinch, startled, eyes locking in shared surprise. For a moment, the intensity lingers, crackling in the air between you. But then, Jiheon giggles—a soft, melodic sound that melts through the weight of the moment like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

That once heavy, almost unbearable atmosphere shifts. Her smile—warm, unguarded—disarms you completely. There’s no frustration, no regret, just her, basking in the moment, unbothered by the mess, as if the only thing that truly matters is you.

Her laughter is contagious. Before you know it, you’re smiling too, drawn into the simple joy of being here, of being hers.

“Bed?” you ask, your voice low, laced with something deeper.

She nods, without hesitation.

You take her hand, guiding her gently, deliberately, until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You sit first, looking up at her, eyes tracing the delicate curve of her face, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. Then, with a soft pull, you lead her onto your lap, her body settling perpendicular to yours, her warmth pressing firmly against you.

As the mood settles, the tension thickens once more. There’s no hesitation when your lips find hers again—no second-guessing, just the raw, undeniable pull between you.

The kiss deepens, slow yet hungry, your hands moving on instinct, fingertips grazing the soft curve of her breast. The fabric between you is a mere formality, a fleeting barrier that does little to dull the warmth of her skin beneath.

Then, suddenly, she pulls back.

Her breath is unsteady, her lips parted as she struggles with her words. “Aren’t I… aren’t I heavy?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

You don’t hesitate. “No…” The answer is quick but gentle, steady, reassuring. Your fingers tighten slightly on her waist, a silent promise that she is wanted. Still, you sense the hesitation lingering in her, the quiet vulnerability she won’t voice aloud. So, without another word, you shift.

“Here, let’s move you.”

With care, you ease her onto the bed, her body sinking into the mattress beneath her. You hover for a moment, watching her, taking in the way her chest rises and falls, the way her fingers curl slightly as if unsure where to place them.

You place your hand on her breast again, fingers tracing over the soft curve, your palm molding to the warmth of her body as you knead gently. Her breath hitches, her chest rising beneath your touch. “Babe…” she calls out, her voice a little shaky, heavy with something unspoken.

You pause, your thumb circling lightly over the fabric covering her skin. “Huh… what’s the matter?” Your voice is soft, laced with concern, but you don’t pull away just yet.

Jiheon exhales deeply, her fingers tightening slightly where they rest against your shoulders. Her lips part as if to say something—but then she shakes her head.

“No… never mind… it’s nothing,” she dismisses quickly, exhaling sharply, as if trying to steady herself.

But you see it—the way her body tenses, the subtle way her fingers clutch at your shirt, like she’s caught between desire and hesitation.

You don’t ignore it. You don’t push, either. Instead, your voice drops to something softer, something meant only for her.

“We can stop if you want,” you murmur, brushing a thumb over her side. “You don’t have to force yourself.”

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, searching, uncertain for just a second—until she shakes her head. “No, it’s not that,” she whispers, hands coming up to cup your face. Her touch is warm, grounding, and when she smiles, it’s small but genuine.

“Please… continue,” she pleads, voice barely above a breath, yet somehow deafening in the quiet space between you. “I like it too…”

The words ignite something deep in your chest.

Your hands move, trailing down from her chest, fingers hovering just above her skin. When they finally meet her bare midriff—her top having ridden up slightly from all the movement—she shivers under your touch.

The warmth of her skin is intoxicating beneath your fingertips, soft and inviting. You pause, letting her breathe, letting her feel every second of your presence.

And when she doesn’t pull away, when she leans just a little closer, you know—she wants this just as much as you do.

Your hands slip beneath her shirt, fingertips gliding under the fabric, slipping past the lace of her bra until they find her chest. You tease her nipples, feeling the way her breath hitches, her body reacting instinctively to your touch.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you lift her shirt fully, discarding it, leaving her bare beneath you.

You pause.

Your eyes drink her in, taking in every detail—the way her skin flushes under your gaze, the soft rise and fall of her breath, the vulnerability in her expression as she watches you carefully.

She hesitates. “It may not be the bigge—”

“Jiheon,” you cut her off, your voice firm but warm. You meet her gaze, letting every word sink in. “You’re already sexy as you are. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Your hand continues to tease her breast, rolling her nipple between your fingers, feeling the way it hardens under your touch. At the same time, your other hand moves lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants, fingertips gliding past the last barrier of her panties.

The heat there is intoxicating, warmer than anywhere else on her body, as if this is where her desire has been pooling all along. You press gently between her thighs, fingertips brushing against her, and feel the dampness already beginning to gather.

“Ah!” she gasps, her body jolting in surprise.

Then she laughs, breathless, cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry… I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You pause for a moment, watching her, feeling the way her thighs twitch beneath your touch. But she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she exhales shakily, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine… continue…”

Her cuteness drives you wild—the way she bites her lip, the tremble in her voice, the way her body instinctively presses into your hand despite her shyness.

You obey, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her sensitive spot. Her warmth spreads, her womanhood gradually growing slick beneath your fingers, the dampness deepening with each stroke. She shudders, her breath catching, her moans no longer muffled but clear, soft, needy.

Then, carefully, you push one finger inside, slow and deliberate, your eyes locked onto hers, reading her every reaction.

“Mmnnngg… it’s in… your finger… you’re inside…” she mutters, her voice trembling, surprise laced in every breath as she clenches around you. The way her body reacts, instinctively drawing you in, makes your pulse quicken.

You move, easing deeper, pulling out just enough before pushing back in, curling your finger inside her, coaxing new sounds from her lips.

“Babe… it feels… weird… I… can’t—mmnngg,” she whimpers, words cut off by the moans spilling from her throat.

You can feel it—how she’s growing wetter, how her body is adjusting, how each stroke pulls another shiver from her. Slowly, you try to slide in another finger, wanting to stretch her just a little more—

But before you can fully press in, her hands fly to your arm, gripping you tightly.

“Babe… don’t… please… it’s too much… I can’t…” she pleads, her voice so small yet so desperate.

You freeze immediately. “I’m s—”

Before you can even finish apologizing, she shakes her head, stopping you with a single glance.

“Instead…” she whispers, her hands now hovering over your pants, fingers brushing against your length, feeling the heat trapped beneath the fabric.

Even through the layers, you feel the way she hesitates—curious, nervous, but undeniably wanting.

Excitement courses through you, anticipation crackling between you like static. You strip off your shirt first, then your pants, Exposing your hardness completely before reaching for her waistband. Your fingers hook into the fabric, tugging gently.

“Jiheon, lift up a little…” you murmur, your voice husky.

She nods, her breath unsteady, pushing up just enough for you to slide them down. The fabric glides over her smooth skin, peeling away inch by inch, revealing more of her bare thighs, her soft curves.

And then—there she is.

Her most intimate place bared to you, glistening with anticipation, the soft folds parting just slightly with each shallow breath she takes.

You freeze.

Your eyes drink her in, utterly captivated, completely mesmerized.

Jiheon shifts slightly, noticing your stare. “Why are you looking at it like that?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

You blink, snapping out of your trance, heat rushing to your face. “Uhm… it just looks pretty,” you confess, unable to tear your gaze away.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate rose as her smile bloomed, a beacon drawing you in. She reached out, her hand a soft invitation, cupping your face. Her thumbs traced gentle circles against your skin, a featherlight touch that sent shivers down your spine. Then, with a deliberate grace, her thumbs moved to your lips, gliding from the curve above to the fuller bottom, lingering there, a silent question hanging in the air.

The anticipation was a taut string, vibrating with unspoken desires. You lowered your gaze, your focus drawn to the place where your bodies met, where your tip pressed against her entrance. A low thrum of need pulsed within you.

"Jiheon…" you murmured, your voice thick with the urgency building inside. "I'm putting it in."

Her eyes, dark pools of longing, met yours. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. "Slowly—" she began, her voice a breathy plea.

But the hunger was too intense, the pull too strong. Before she could complete her request, you plunged into her, your shaft claiming its rightful place within her.

"Ah—" she gasped, her body jolting, a sharp intake of breath as you entered her. Her nails dug into your shoulders, a reflex of surprise, her muscles clenching around you, a hot, tight fist gripping your throbbing flesh with an intensity that stole your breath. She held you captive.

Not fully inside, she was already breathless, on the edge. You tried pushing deeper, but her passage tightened, a stubborn resistance that made you pause.

“!… Ah… nngg… it hurts,” she yelped, a small, pained cry that vibrated against your skin. Her body trembled beneath you, a delicate tremble like a struck bell. You pulled back slightly, a slow retreat, her heat clinging to you, her inner walls pulsating.

Seeing the flicker of pain in her eyes, you decided to be gentler, teasing at the entrance.

You thrust again, a slow, deliberate slide. “Nnng…” a moan, softer this time, escaped her lips, a sound of surprised pleasure.

You pulled back again, leaving her wanting, a frustrated gasp escaping her.

“Hnngg!!”

Only to plunge deeper than before, filling her completely with a surge of heat.

“ngh…” she moaned, her head falling back, an unguarded display of pure sensation.

As you started to draw back, her hands flew to your arms, digging in this time with purpose. Her grip wasn't pushing you away, but fiercely pulling you in, demanding more.

You thrust once again, this time with more force.

“Nhhgg” she responded, eyes wide and fixed on you, her mouth agape, gasping, her body, still trembling slightly, was surrendering to the pleasure.

“Are… you okay?” You asked, a note of concern in your voice.

"Yeah... I'm okay..." Her hands tightened on your shoulders, a flicker of desire igniting in her eyes.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice husky with urgency.

You deepened your rhythm, the pace accelerating. Each thrust met with a muffled moan, her grip on you tightening with each movement.

"Babe..." she gasped, arching her back as you filled her. Your hand moved to her breast, gently caressing the taut skin. You couldn't fully enter, her body still tight with anticipation.

"Hnnnnn..." she moaned, a wave of pleasure washing over her.

You moved within her, finding the sweet spot where pleasure met comfort. It wasn't enough to cause pain, yet it was enough to send shivers down her spine. "It... hurts," she breathed, her tongue darting out to catch it. "Kiss me."

You leaned in, your tongues meeting in a passionate dance. Her moans were muffled against your mouth, but you could feel the vibrations deep within her. As you moved your hips, your tongues entwined, exploring every corner of each other's mouths. You felt her body begin to loosen, yielding to the deepening kiss. Finally, you parted, your tongues lingering for a fleeting moment before breaking free.

Your face moved to her chest, your mouth finding her erect nipples. You gently suckled on one while holding the other, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Don't suck too hard..." she whispered, her voice breathless.

You moved your mouth away from her breast, replaced by a gentle pinch.

"Nnggf..." she gasped, a shiver running through her.

"Jiheon, your breasts are beautiful," you murmured, admiring their shape.

"Haaa... Really?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice.

Your hands began to massage her breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh. You moved them closer, teasing her nipples together, rubbing them against each other.

"Babe... I'm sensitive there..." she panted, her breath catching.

You pushed her nipples closer, feeling their sensitive tips brush against each other. Then, you lowered your head, licking them together, savoring the taste of her arousal. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to thrust harder.

"Ahhhhh!" she cried out, surprised by the sudden increase in your pace.

"Jiheon, you feel so good," you groaned, lost in the moment.

Her hips arched upwards, meeting your thrusts at a new angle.

"Does it still hurt?" you asked, your voice rough with desire.

A smile spread across her face. "No... you're making me feel so good right now."

Her words were like a trigger, shattering your remaining control.

"Then... Jiheon, I'm going deeper this time," you informed her, your voice low and urgent.

"Deeper?" she asked, surprised. "You... weren't—"

You didn't wait for her to finish, plunging deep inside her. Your length was fully buried within her, her body tightening around you like a vice.

Her hands instinctively reached for the front of your pelvis, stopping you.

"Ah— Babe! I can't... please... Don't move... I can't breathe..." she wailed, her body trembling violently.

"Then... shall we stay like this while you adjust?" you offered, your voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

You leaned in close, your hand slipping beneath her head as you pulled her closer, enveloping her in your embrace. You could feel her hot breath fanning against your neck, frantic and now slowing down as she relaxed against you.

As the room settled, you throbbed gently within her, her body embracing yours, making it feel as if you were meant to be there, a part of her. A part of you yearned to remain still, to savor this moment of perfect union.

She whispered against your ear, "Isn't this more lewd?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Us... in this... embracing each other, feeling each other's heat through our connection?"

You shifted, wanting to see her face now that the room had calmed. As you gazed down, you saw her smiling beneath you, her hair spread across the bed, some strands framing her face. Her beauty was radiant, enhanced by the sheen of sweat on her skin.

You couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her again, a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with each passing moment. As you deepened the kiss, you resumed your rhythm, your movements slow and deliberate at first, teasing her with each gentle thrust. Her body, now relaxed and receptive, met your movements with a growing eagerness.

You moved your hands to her back, tracing the curve of her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You lingered there for a moment, savoring the feel of her before continuing your exploration, your hands moving lower to cup her buttocks, pulling her closer.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

You quickened your pace slightly, each thrust becoming a little deeper, a little more insistent. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she met your rhythm with increasing fervor. You could feel the heat rising between you, the tension building with each passing moment.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice filled with a desperate longing. "I'm ready now... take me..."

Her words were the final invitation, the key that unlocked the floodgates of your desire. You surged forward, your movements now more forceful, more demanding, as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

You grasped her legs, and she slowly lifted her hips towards you, her body mirroring your own peak.

"Jiheon, I'm close..." you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "I'll finish in your stomach."

"I feel weird..." she whispered, trying to maintain her composure, her words punctuated by soft moans. "I think... I'm close too."

She pulled you closer, her lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, a kiss that spoke of shared desire and impending release. You shifted your hands to support yourself as the rest of your body surrendered to the wave of pleasure.

"Ahhhggg... Babe!!!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

Her body tensed, her arms tightening around your neck, her legs locking around your hips. Her core pulsed, squeezing you tightly, drawing you deeper into her embrace.

"Jiheon, I can't hold it in anymore," you groaned, your control slipping away.

You tried to pull back slightly, but as she held you close, her peak intensifying its grip, your release had no choice but to erupt within her, your fluids mingling together.

"Hmmmgg..." a moan escaped her lips as she accepted your warmth, her body filled with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Her eyes half-open, you caught a flicker in their depths – a spark of joy, of satisfaction, and a hint of mischief, as if she'd done something she shouldn't have.

You collapsed beside her, the aftermath of passion leaving you both breathless

For a moment, you lay intertwined, catching your breath. Jiheon was the first to recover, snuggling closer, her arms embracing you, her cheek resting against your arm.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to finish inside you," you apologized, a hint of guilt in your voice.

"Don't..." she murmured, her voice soft. "I'm more at fault. I didn't let go of you." She paused, then added reassuringly, "And it's fine... it's my safe day.”

You absently ran your fingers through her hair, but your mind was elsewhere – a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"Jiheon?" you murmured, feeling her shift slightly against you.

"Mmm?" Her response was drowsy, content.

You hesitated, trying to reconcile the fragmented memories in your head. "Tonight felt... different."

She tensed almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. Had you not been so attuned to her, you might have missed it. "Different how?"

"You seemed..." You struggled to articulate the feeling, not wanting to upset her. "It felt like your first time."

Jiheon lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a soft laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not usually this responsive?" Her fingers traced distracting patterns on your chest.

"No, that's not—" you frowned, trying to grasp your elusive thoughts. Fleeting images flickered through your mind – your supposed first time together, other intimate moments – but they felt strangely distant, blurred, like looking through frosted glass. "You were in pain."

"Maybe you were just particularly passionate tonight," she teased, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Her voice held a practiced lightness. "Besides, it's been a while since last time."

You tried to recall your last encounter, but the memory slipped away, elusive as smoke. "I suppose..."

"You think too much," she whispered, curling closer. Her hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward hers. "Just be here with me now."

As you gazed into her eyes, the questions swirling in your mind began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable haze. She was right – you were overthinking things. Everything was fine. Everything was exactly as it should be. Or so it seemed.

As the night deepened, your whispers faded into soft breaths, and you drifted to sleep together, the unsettling feeling lingering somewhere in the back of your mind, a secret you couldn't quite decipher.

~~~

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You wake up to the soft sound of Jiheon’s breathing beside you, her back turned slightly away. The sight of her, the way the golden light catches in her hair, makes your heart swell.

Smiling, you shift closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Good morning,” you murmur against her skin.

She stiffens, just for a second, before relaxing under your touch. “Morning,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual warmth.

You don’t notice at first. Instead, you prop yourself up on one elbow, brushing her hair away so you can see her face. “I still have time before my shift start,” you say, voice laced with affection, “We didn't get to go to our usual place last night, how about we get brunch there?”

She gives you a small smile, but something about it feels... off. “Yeah… that sounds nice.”

You lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting up to change clothes. Jiheon watches you from the bed, eyes clouded with something unreadable.

Your hands move, trailing down from her chest, fingers hovering just above her skin. When they finally meet her bare midriff—her top having ridden up slightly from all the movement—she shivers under your touch.

The warmth of her skin is intoxicating beneath your fingertips, soft and inviting. You pause, letting her breathe, letting her feel every second of your presence.

And when she doesn’t pull away, when she leans just a little closer, you know—she wants this just as much as you do.

Your hands slip beneath her shirt, fingertips gliding under the fabric, slipping past the lace of her bra until they find her chest. You tease her nipples, feeling the way her breath hitches, her body reacting instinctively to your touch.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you lift her shirt fully, discarding it, leaving her bare beneath you.

You pause.

Your eyes drink her in, taking in every detail—the way her skin flushes under your gaze, the soft rise and fall of her breath, the vulnerability in her expression as she watches you carefully.

She hesitates. “It may not be the bigge—”

“Jiheon,” you cut her off, your voice firm but warm. You meet her gaze, letting every word sink in. “You’re already sexy as you are. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Your hand continues to tease her breast, rolling her nipple between your fingers, feeling the way it hardens under your touch. At the same time, your other hand moves lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants, fingertips gliding past the last barrier of her panties.

The heat there is intoxicating, warmer than anywhere else on her body, as if this is where her desire has been pooling all along. You press gently between her thighs, fingertips brushing against her, and feel the dampness already beginning to gather.

“Ah!” she gasps, her body jolting in surprise.

Then she laughs, breathless, cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry… I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You pause for a moment, watching her, feeling the way her thighs twitch beneath your touch. But she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she exhales shakily, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine… continue…”

Her cuteness drives you wild—the way she bites her lip, the tremble in her voice, the way her body instinctively presses into your hand despite her shyness.

You obey, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her sensitive spot. Her warmth spreads, her womanhood gradually growing slick beneath your fingers, the dampness deepening with each stroke. She shudders, her breath catching, her moans no longer muffled but clear, soft, needy.

Then, carefully, you push one finger inside, slow and deliberate, your eyes locked onto hers, reading her every reaction.

“Mmnnngg… it’s in… your finger… you’re inside…” she mutters, her voice trembling, surprise laced in every breath as she clenches around you. The way her body reacts, instinctively drawing you in, makes your pulse quicken.

You move, easing deeper, pulling out just enough before pushing back in, curling your finger inside her, coaxing new sounds from her lips.

“Babe… it feels… weird… I… can’t—mmnngg,” she whimpers, words cut off by the moans spilling from her throat.

You can feel it—how she’s growing wetter, how her body is adjusting, how each stroke pulls another shiver from her. Slowly, you try to slide in another finger, wanting to stretch her just a little more—

But before you can fully press in, her hands fly to your arm, gripping you tightly.

“Babe… don’t… please… it’s too much… I can’t…” she pleads, her voice so small yet so desperate.

You freeze immediately. “I’m s—”

Before you can even finish apologizing, she shakes her head, stopping you with a single glance.

“Instead…” she whispers, her hands now hovering over your pants, fingers brushing against your length, feeling the heat trapped beneath the fabric.

Even through the layers, you feel the way she hesitates—curious, nervous, but undeniably wanting.

Excitement courses through you, anticipation crackling between you like static. You strip off your shirt first, then your pants, Exposing your hardness completely before reaching for her waistband. Your fingers hook into the fabric, tugging gently.

“Jiheon, lift up a little…” you murmur, your voice husky.

She nods, her breath unsteady, pushing up just enough for you to slide them down. The fabric glides over her smooth skin, peeling away inch by inch, revealing more of her bare thighs, her soft curves.

And then—there she is.

Her most intimate place bared to you, glistening with anticipation, the soft folds parting just slightly with each shallow breath she takes.

You freeze.

Your eyes drink her in, utterly captivated, completely mesmerized.

Jiheon shifts slightly, noticing your stare. “Why are you looking at it like that?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

You blink, snapping out of your trance, heat rushing to your face. “Uhm… it just looks pretty,” you confess, unable to tear your gaze away.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate rose as her smile bloomed, a beacon drawing you in. She reached out, her hand a soft invitation, cupping your face. Her thumbs traced gentle circles against your skin, a featherlight touch that sent shivers down your spine. Then, with a deliberate grace, her thumbs moved to your lips, gliding from the curve above to the fuller bottom, lingering there, a silent question hanging in the air.

The anticipation was a taut string, vibrating with unspoken desires. You lowered your gaze, your focus drawn to the place where your bodies met, where your tip pressed against her entrance. A low thrum of need pulsed within you.

"Jiheon…" you murmured, your voice thick with the urgency building inside. "I'm putting it in."

Her eyes, dark pools of longing, met yours. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. "Slowly—" she began, her voice a breathy plea.

But the hunger was too intense, the pull too strong. Before she could complete her request, you plunged into her, your shaft claiming its rightful place within her.

"Ah—" she gasped, her body jolting, a sharp intake of breath as you entered her. Her nails dug into your shoulders, a reflex of surprise, her muscles clenching around you, a hot, tight fist gripping your throbbing flesh with an intensity that stole your breath. She held you captive.

Not fully inside, she was already breathless, on the edge. You tried pushing deeper, but her passage tightened, a stubborn resistance that made you pause.

“!… Ah… nngg… it hurts,” she yelped, a small, pained cry that vibrated against your skin. Her body trembled beneath you, a delicate tremble like a struck bell. You pulled back slightly, a slow retreat, her heat clinging to you, her inner walls pulsating.

Seeing the flicker of pain in her eyes, you decided to be gentler, teasing at the entrance.

You thrust again, a slow, deliberate slide. “Nnng…” a moan, softer this time, escaped her lips, a sound of surprised pleasure.

You pulled back again, leaving her wanting, a frustrated gasp escaping her.

“Hnngg!!”

Only to plunge deeper than before, filling her completely with a surge of heat.

“ngh…” she moaned, her head falling back, an unguarded display of pure sensation.

As you started to draw back, her hands flew to your arms, digging in this time with purpose. Her grip wasn't pushing you away, but fiercely pulling you in, demanding more.

You thrust once again, this time with more force.

“Nhhgg” she responded, eyes wide and fixed on you, her mouth agape, gasping, her body, still trembling slightly, was surrendering to the pleasure.

“Are… you okay?” You asked, a note of concern in your voice.

"Yeah... I'm okay..." Her hands tightened on your shoulders, a flicker of desire igniting in her eyes.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice husky with urgency.

You deepened your rhythm, the pace accelerating. Each thrust met with a muffled moan, her grip on you tightening with each movement.

"Babe..." she gasped, arching her back as you filled her. Your hand moved to her breast, gently caressing the taut skin. You couldn't fully enter, her body still tight with anticipation.

"Hnnnnn..." she moaned, a wave of pleasure washing over her.

You moved within her, finding the sweet spot where pleasure met comfort. It wasn't enough to cause pain, yet it was enough to send shivers down her spine. "It... hurts," she breathed, her tongue darting out to catch it. "Kiss me."

You leaned in, your tongues meeting in a passionate dance. Her moans were muffled against your mouth, but you could feel the vibrations deep within her. As you moved your hips, your tongues entwined, exploring every corner of each other's mouths. You felt her body begin to loosen, yielding to the deepening kiss. Finally, you parted, your tongues lingering for a fleeting moment before breaking free.

Your face moved to her chest, your mouth finding her erect nipples. You gently suckled on one while holding the other, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Don't suck too hard..." she whispered, her voice breathless.

You moved your mouth away from her breast, replaced by a gentle pinch.

"Nnggf..." she gasped, a shiver running through her.

"Jiheon, your breasts are beautiful," you murmured, admiring their shape.

"Haaa... Really?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice.

Your hands began to massage her breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh. You moved them closer, teasing her nipples together, rubbing them against each other.

"Babe... I'm sensitive there..." she panted, her breath catching.

You pushed her nipples closer, feeling their sensitive tips brush against each other. Then, you lowered your head, licking them together, savoring the taste of her arousal. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to thrust harder.

"Ahhhhh!" she cried out, surprised by the sudden increase in your pace.

"Jiheon, you feel so good," you groaned, lost in the moment.

Her hips arched upwards, meeting your thrusts at a new angle.

"Does it still hurt?" you asked, your voice rough with desire.

A smile spread across her face. "No... you're making me feel so good right now."

Her words were like a trigger, shattering your remaining control.

"Then... Jiheon, I'm going deeper this time," you informed her, your voice low and urgent.

"Deeper?" she asked, surprised. "You... weren't—"

You didn't wait for her to finish, plunging deep inside her. Your length was fully buried within her, her body tightening around you like a vice.

Her hands instinctively reached for the front of your pelvis, stopping you.

"Ah— Babe! I can't... please... Don't move... I can't breathe..." she wailed, her body trembling violently.

"Then... shall we stay like this while you adjust?" you offered, your voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

You leaned in close, your hand slipping beneath her head as you pulled her closer, enveloping her in your embrace. You could feel her hot breath fanning against your neck, frantic and now slowing down as she relaxed against you.

As the room settled, you throbbed gently within her, her body embracing yours, making it feel as if you were meant to be there, a part of her. A part of you yearned to remain still, to savor this moment of perfect union.

She whispered against your ear, "Isn't this more lewd?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Us... in this... embracing each other, feeling each other's heat through our connection?"

You shifted, wanting to see her face now that the room had calmed. As you gazed down, you saw her smiling beneath you, her hair spread across the bed, some strands framing her face. Her beauty was radiant, enhanced by the sheen of sweat on her skin.

You couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her again, a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with each passing moment. As you deepened the kiss, you resumed your rhythm, your movements slow and deliberate at first, teasing her with each gentle thrust. Her body, now relaxed and receptive, met your movements with a growing eagerness.

You moved your hands to her back, tracing the curve of her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You lingered there for a moment, savoring the feel of her before continuing your exploration, your hands moving lower to cup her buttocks, pulling her closer.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

You quickened your pace slightly, each thrust becoming a little deeper, a little more insistent. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she met your rhythm with increasing fervor. You could feel the heat rising between you, the tension building with each passing moment.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice filled with a desperate longing. "I'm ready now... take me..."

Her words were the final invitation, the key that unlocked the floodgates of your desire. You surged forward, your movements now more forceful, more demanding, as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

You grasped her legs, and she slowly lifted her hips towards you, her body mirroring your own peak.

"Jiheon, I'm close..." you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "I'll finish in your stomach."

"I feel weird..." she whispered, trying to maintain her composure, her words punctuated by soft moans. "I think... I'm close too."

She pulled you closer, her lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, a kiss that spoke of shared desire and impending release. You shifted your hands to support yourself as the rest of your body surrendered to the wave of pleasure.

"Ahhhggg... Babe!!!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

Her body tensed, her arms tightening around your neck, her legs locking around your hips. Her core pulsed, squeezing you tightly, drawing you deeper into her embrace.

"Jiheon, I can't hold it in anymore," you groaned, your control slipping away.

You tried to pull back slightly, but as she held you close, her peak intensifying its grip, your release had no choice but to erupt within her, your fluids mingling together.

"Hmmmgg..." a moan escaped her lips as she accepted your warmth, her body filled with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Her eyes half-open, you caught a flicker in their depths – a spark of joy, of satisfaction, and a hint of mischief, as if she'd done something she shouldn't have.

You collapsed beside her, the aftermath of passion leaving you both breathless

For a moment, you lay intertwined, catching your breath. Jiheon was the first to recover, snuggling closer, her arms embracing you, her cheek resting against your arm.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to finish inside you," you apologized, a hint of guilt in your voice.

"Don't..." she murmured, her voice soft. "I'm more at fault. I didn't let go of you." She paused, then added reassuringly, "And it's fine... it's my safe day.”

You absently ran your fingers through her hair, but your mind was elsewhere – a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"Jiheon?" you murmured, feeling her shift slightly against you.

"Mmm?" Her response was drowsy, content.

You hesitated, trying to reconcile the fragmented memories in your head. "Tonight felt... different."

She tensed almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. Had you not been so attuned to her, you might have missed it. "Different how?"

"You seemed..." You struggled to articulate the feeling, not wanting to upset her. "It felt like your first time."

Jiheon lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a soft laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not usually this responsive?" Her fingers traced distracting patterns on your chest.

"No, that's not—" you frowned, trying to grasp your elusive thoughts. Fleeting images flickered through your mind – your supposed first time together, other intimate moments – but they felt strangely distant, blurred, like looking through frosted glass. "You were in pain."

"Maybe you were just particularly passionate tonight," she teased, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Her voice held a practiced lightness. "Besides, it's been a while since last time."

You tried to recall your last encounter, but the memory slipped away, elusive as smoke. "I suppose..."

"You think too much," she whispered, curling closer. Her hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward hers. "Just be here with me now."

As you gazed into her eyes, the questions swirling in your mind began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable haze. She was right – you were overthinking things. Everything was fine. Everything was exactly as it should be. Or so it seemed.

As the night deepened, your whispers faded into soft breaths, and you drifted to sleep together, the unsettling feeling lingering somewhere in the back of your mind, a secret you couldn't quite decipher.

~~~

Entering The Golden Brew, your steps feel heavy, weighed down by lingering worries.

“Hey… I’m sorry about yesterday,” Gyuri says softly, approaching as you prepare for your shift. “You seem really down. Is it because of what happened?”

“No, it’s not that…” you reply, though your voice lacks conviction.

She studies you for a moment before pressing on. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you sure everything’s okay? You’ve been acting strange—especially after your lunch at the konbini.”

Her words hang in the air, but before you can find an answer, the front door bell chimes—customers waiting at the counter.

The afternoon drags on, each minute stretching endlessly, yet somehow, before you realize it, night has already fallen.

“Hey… I’ll head out first. You can close up, right?” Gyuri asks, slipping off her apron.

You nod, offering her a faint smile. “Yeah, I got it.”

She returns your smile, though it’s laced with concern, before stepping through the door and disappearing into the night.

You step out of The Golden Brew, locking the door behind you with a quiet click.

A flash of light catches the edge of your vision. You turn—and there it is. The same sleek, sapphire-blue Porsche, parked just a short distance away.

Chaeyoung.

Your breath tightens in your chest. You know why she’s here. You know what you need to do.

Pushing down your hesitation, you walk toward the car, your footsteps firm, determined. You have to end this—end the guilt that clings to you like a shadow.

You rap your knuckles against the tinted window. Before you can tell her to get out, the glass slides down smoothly.

“Get in,” she says, smiling.

You sit in the front passenger seat, slamming the door closed, refusing to face her as your gaze fixes straight ahead through the windshield.

Her smile is wide enough to reflect in the window. "Miss me?" She asks teasingly. "You're not even going to look at me? I've been waiting ever since Gyuri left."

"Why are you here?" Your voice comes out stern, cold.

"I think you know why." Her hand moves to your thigh, rubbing through your pants, slowly inching upward.

You grip her arm, trying to stop her advance. Surprised at first, she battles against your resistance as you try to push her hand away.

"Aw... is our pretty boy shy?" She teases, pushing harder against your grip. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle this time."

"I can't betray her any further..." The words come out strained as you struggle against her persistence.

"Who's 'her'? Do you have a girlfriend or something?" Her movements slow slightly, but don't stop.

Your silence speaks volumes.

Her strength wavers. You finally overpower her, swatting her hand away as you turn to face her. Her smile fades slowly. "This was a mistake," you say firmly. "This... entering this car... it was a mistake then, and it's still a mistake now."

"You actually have a girlfriend?" Disbelief colors her voice, confusion twisting her features. "Gyuri told me you never had one..." Her expression shifts to panic. "You were supposed to have no attachments!"

You exhale sharply. "Whatever this was… it’s over."

Your hand reaches for the door, but she grips your arm with surprising strength. Her face now shows clear desperation.

"No, it's fine. It's okay." The words seem more to reassure herself than you. "You— you could just break up with her... you— just forget about her..." Her words stumble over each other.

"This has to end. That night was a mistake, one I won't repeat." You stand, opening the car door.

She pulls you back into the seat, eyes flashing with anger. "Mistake? Let me make something clear – that wasn't just some simple one-night stand. I warned you, and you still continued. You cannot just back out. It's too late to regret it now. You agreed to it—"

"Whatever game you think this is, I’m done playing it." You meet her gaze, unflinching. "I won’t hurt her like this."

You step out of the car. Behind you, the driver’s door slams shut, heels clicking rapidly on the pavement as she follows. Her voice is sharper now, edged with something you don’t want to name.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing. This isn’t something you can just walk away from."

"How great is she?" The words drip with venom. "You made a promise—to me, to us. Aren’t you a man? Then keep your word." She’s throwing anything she can now, anything to make you stop. Then, her voice shifts, silk over steel. "Who is she?"

You don’t answer.

She stops in her tracks, watching you, a slow smirk forming. "Tell me, or I’ll find out myself."

You hesitate. That smirk—she’s toying with you, and you know it. But you also know she’s not bluffing.

"...Jiheon," you say at last.

Something flickers in her expression. "Jiheon?" she repeats, almost to herself. Then, realization dawns. "You said you only met her the day before—" She cuts herself off, as if she’s said too much.

Your stomach tightens.

When she looks back at you, the panic is gone. The desperation wiped clean. That smirk returns, sharper than ever.

She closes the distance between you, fingertips grazing your jaw, trailing lightly down your neck. "Jiheon, huh?" she muses, voice dipped in honey. "Would she really mind? You've already done it once… what’s one more time?"

There’s something else beneath her teasing—something darker, something she shouldn’t know.

You step back, gently pushing her hand away. "Enough."

Her smile doesn’t falter. "Are you sure?" she murmurs.

"I wasn’t in my right mind that night." You turn away.

Her laugh follows you, light and knowing. "What makes you think you’re in your right mind now?"

The words freeze you mid-step. There’s something in the way she says it—casual, amused, but laced with certainty.

Before you can turn back, before you can demand what she means, her heels click against the pavement, the Porsche’s engine purring to life. And then—she’s gone.

But the chill she leaves behind lingers.

Your dorm room feels different when you return—heavier, somehow. Jiheon is already there, perched on the edge of your bed, fingers twisting nervously in her lap. The moment you step inside, she looks up, and something in her eyes makes your chest tighten.

"I was worried," she says softly, but she doesn’t move to embrace you like she usually would.

You sense it immediately—something isn’t right. But the silence between you feels fragile, and you hesitate to break it.

"Did you have dinner yet?" you ask.

"No. I... I cooked for you."

"Jiheon—"

Before you can say another word, she’s in front of you, pressing her lips to yours. The kiss is desperate, almost frantic. Her hands clutch at your shirt as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You pull back, startled by her intensity. "Jiheon, what’s—"

Her breath ghosts against your lips, warm and pleading, fingers curling into your shoulders as she tries to draw you back in. But you resist—just long enough to watch the frustration flicker through Jiheon’s dark eyes, her lips parting with a needy little whimper. A flicker of something else, too, something that looked suspiciously like guilt, crossed her face before she masked it with a determined set to her jaw.

“Please,” she whispers, voice trembling with want. “Just let me…”

Before you can answer, she’s already moving, trailing a line of feverish kisses down your throat, across your collarbone, until her mouth finds its way lower. Her touch is both tentative and daring, fingertips skimming down your torso, tracing the hard lines of muscle, the sensitive dip just above your hips. It felt almost… rehearsed, you thought vaguely, as if she were following a well-worn script.

You feel her breath against your stomach, hot and uneven, as she kneels between your legs. Her eyes flick up to yours, smoldering beneath those thick lashes, seeking permission she doesn’t really need. Her hand wraps around the base of your cock, firm yet soft, squeezing just enough to make you throb against her palm.

“Let me make you feel good,” she murmurs, her voice sultry, dripping with desire. But there’s a slight edge to it, an almost desperate undertone that makes you wonder what she’s trying to prove.

Her lips brush over the tip, soft as a whisper, before her tongue darts out, flicking across the sensitive head, tasting you. You can’t help the low groan that escapes you, hands sliding into her hair, gripping gently—not to guide, just to feel that silky texture between your fingers.

“Fuck, Jiheon…” you breathe, the words spilling out before you can catch them.

She grins, a wicked glint flashing in her eyes before she sinks lower, taking you into the wet heat of her mouth. Her lips stretch around you, cheeks hollowing as she sucks, her tongue pressing firm against the underside, tracing every vein, every ridge. She starts slow, savoring each inch as she takes you deeper, her throat relaxing, her breath hot against your skin. There’s a frantic edge to her movements, as if she’s trying to erase something, or perhaps prove something to herself.

“Just like that,” you murmur, voice rough. “Take it all.”

She moans around you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Her hands find their rhythm, one pumping slowly at the base while the other grazes up your thigh, nails dragging lightly, making you shiver. Her touch is almost too much, too insistent, as if she’s trying to compensate for something unspoken.

She pulls back just enough to catch her breath, a string of saliva connecting her swollen lips to your glistening cock. Her eyes stay locked on yours as she leans in again, her tongue swirling around the tip before she plunges down, faster this time, her head bobbing as she builds a steady, relentless rhythm.

“God, Jiheon,” you gasp, your hips bucking slightly, pushing deeper into her eager mouth. Her eyes flutter shut, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she takes you even further, her throat flexing around you. The sensation is intoxicating, the wet, tight heat pulling you closer to the edge. But even in the throes of pleasure, a small part of you can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that Jiheon’s intensity is driven by something more than just desire.

You can feel yourself teetering there, the pleasure coiling tight in your stomach. Your grip in her hair tightens, and she responds by sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing, her tongue working you mercilessly.

“Jiheon, I’m close,” you warn, voice strained. But she doesn’t slow. Instead, she takes you deeper still, her nose brushing against your abdomen, her throat swallowing around you as she hums in encouragement. The vibration tips you over the edge, a shuddering groan tearing from your chest as you spill into her mouth, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

She holds steady, swallowing every drop, her tongue still moving, milking you for everything you have. Only when your grip loosens does she pull back, licking her lips, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

“Mmm,” she purrs, her voice husky, eyes gleaming with pride. “You taste so good.” But the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and the pride seems… forced. She wipes a stray drop from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, popping it into her mouth with a mischievous little grin. It feels almost… practiced, you realize.

“Did I do good?” she teases, her gaze challenging, playful. But beneath the surface, you detect a hint of vulnerability, a desperate need for reassurance. You can’t help but chuckle, breathless and dazed. “You did more than good, Jiheon.”

She crawls back up your body, pressing herself against you, her lips finding yours in a slow, heated kiss that tastes faintly of you. As she pulls away, her smile softens, a hint of vulnerability beneath the bravado.

“should we continue in bed?,” she whispers, resting her head against your chest, the steady beat of your heart beneath her ear. “I just want to make you feel good.” The words hang in the air, both a promise and a confession. You realize, with a growing sense of unease, that she’s trying to make up for something, trying to assuage a guilt she hasn’t yet voiced.

But something clicks in your mind—the desperation in her kiss, the sudden intimacy, the guilt in her eyes all day.

"This isn’t about what happened with Chaeyoung, is it?"

She flinches.

"I thought you were acting strange because you hadn’t forgiven me," you continue, watching her reaction carefully. "But that’s not it, is it? There’s something else."

Something shifts. Like a puzzle snapping into place, memories sharpen—and unravel.

Your first kiss. It had been perfect, hadn’t it? Too perfect. Like something scripted, a scene from a movie playing out exactly as it should.

And then, fragments resurface:

"You’ve been fiddling with your phone. Is something wrong? You never do that."

"You’ve been acting strange—especially after your lunch at the konbini."

"Girlfriend? Gyuri told me you never had one..."

"You said you only met Jiheon the day before—"

"What makes you think you’re in your right mind now?"

Your head throbs, a sharp, pulsing ache as if something inside you is trying to fight back—trying to correct itself. Memories overlap and distort, tangled in contradictions. You stagger, gripping your temples, struggling to stay on your feet.

Jiheon catches you, hands cupping your face. "Stop," she chokes out. "Please don’t—"

Her eyes flash that strange cyan again. And this time, you don’t dismiss it.

"What did you do to my memories?" The question comes out softer than you expect, more hurt than anger.

Jiheon breaks. "I’m sorry," she sobs, reaching for your hand. Her touch feels both familiar and foreign now. "I never meant... it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was just a trick—I didn’t know what I was doing, I wasn’t myself."

You pull your hand away. "How much of it is real?"

Her silence is answer enough.

Your breath catches. "The past year..." You step back, needing distance as the artificial memories begin to fracture. "Our first meeting by the fountain. The late-night study sessions. Our first kiss in the rain. None of it happened, did it?"

"I’m sorry. I don’t— I didn’t know what I was thinking," she pleads, rising to follow you. "Let me explain. I know I did wrong, but I never meant to hurt you. I just... I can’t lose you, please—"

A pulse of cyan light flickers in her eyes, and suddenly, the fog starts creeping back in. That familiar haze.

The same blue that flashed across your screen. The same brilliant sky over the konbini. The same refracted light on your kitchen wall. The same color that flickered in her eyes the night before.

But this time, you recognize it for what it is—

Manipulation. Magic. A violation.

"STOP!"

The word erupts from you with unexpected force, reverberating through the room. The haze in your mind shatters, retreating like a receding tide, leaving you clearer than you’ve felt in… how long?

Jiheon stumbles backward as if struck. "I didn't— I couldn't control it," she gasps, tears spilling down her face. "I… I succumbed to myself. I was… overcome by my emotions."

"The konbini," you say, your thoughts falling into place like tumbling dominos. "The blue light I saw there… that was you?"

She nods miserably, arms wrapping tightly around herself. "I thought… I thought it would be interesting if I became your girlfriend." Her voice wavers. "I didn’t mean to toy with you…"

"Interesting?" The word tastes bitter in your mouth. "Didn’t mean to?" Your voice rises, fury breaking through the lingering fog. "You think that’s an excuse? You didn’t just toy with me—you rewrote my life. How many of my memories have you…?" The sentence fractures before you can finish it.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, reaching for you again. "Please, let me stay. I’ll tell you everything, I’ll—"

"No." You step back, widening the distance between you. "I need you to leave."

"Please," she begs, her voice breaking. The cyan light flickers weakly in her eyes, uncertain now. "I know I can’t fix this, but—"

"Jiheon." Your voice is firm despite the chaos roaring in your mind. "You’re the last person I can trust right now."

The words land between you like a final blow.

She stands there, trembling, her tears falling silently. For a moment, you think she’ll fight, refuse to go. But then she nods, turning toward the door with slow, heavy steps.

At the threshold, she hesitates. "Will you…?" The question remains unfinished, hanging in the air like an unresolved note.

You close your eyes, unable to look at her. "I don’t know. Just… go."

The door clicks shut softly behind her.

When you open your eyes, you are alone—with a head full of memories you can no longer trust and the lingering cyan glow of betrayal still burning behind your eyelids.

a/n: As always, any feed back is welcome (needed/ preferred :))Chapter 4 coming...

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[holyguardian]

Aerith was pulled from her thoughts at such a forward uttering of her name. There were few among them who referred to her on a first-name basis, and she was distracted enough to not immediately register it had been a familiar voice.

She looked to Somnus in mild surprise. Though her expression softened — she had cleaned up from their struggle, and he still wore it plain. He wasn't precious about any of it but it did kick up the unpleasant memories.

"It's the least I can do." she replied, feeling as though all of this trouble was because of her. Realistically, no, the blame was solely on King Jacob. But everyone here... they had risked life and limb for her. It wasn't a good feeling.

Somnus grinned and pulled at his clothes. A small gasp was pulled from her — she saw that cut immediately, and he was bowing like it wasn't such a big deal. He barely even got to straighten up again before her hands were on him. Clean cloths became dirty ones as she washed around the wound with a crease in her brow.

"You should have come sooner... doesn't it hurt?" she asked, shooting him a look of concern before she looked him up and down. No. This wouldn't do. He was a walking infection risk like this.

"This way. Strip down to your pants." she ordered, so matter-of-factly it might come as a surprise. It had simply been a line that repeated often enough that it felt second nature after that long night.

There was little privacy, but he wasn't ushered along so no one could see. Oh no. It was so no one else would wear the spell he was about to experience. "For the healing water to work, you have to keep the area clean. You can't pull your dirtied clothes back on." She had spent a lot of effort making that small basin of healing water too. She couldn't afford to waste it away to carelessness.

Aerith grimaced a little before she knocked back a small flask. Another mana tonic. She was on her sixth, and her stomach was rioting. If she had to down one more she was going to hurl. "Ouh." she had a small, audible complaint, but shook it off as she collected her stave. The real star of this tent.

"Maybe close your eyes." she offered, then channelled her magic into a steady water spell. It wasn't a gentle flow, but it wasn't assaulting either. Somewhere inbetween. Somnus was watered down the same as countless other soldiers had been though there were a few more glances thrown his way, a few more grins too, especially from Lucian soldiers.

It was over as quickly as it began, and while Somnus wiped down his face or shook some of the excess from his hair, Aerith busied herself at the precious little basin that had been mostly emptied. She only dared to touch with clean hands as she soaked a cloth through and approached her thoroughly-washed husband again.

That cloth was pressed to his side firmly, held there in the same manner, allowing the water time to work some of its magic. "... sorry." she almost whispered. "I forgot to warn you about the sting."

Her eyes lowered. The cloth bloomed with a little fresh blood, but nothing too concerning. The water was already at work. "You don't know how much I'm fighting myself to not simply heal you." she then uttered between them.

If one wanted to find Aerith in such a camp, it was easiest to follow where the groans of pain and desperation lessened.

She stood in the makeshift lazaret. A plain green dress – and yet the symbol of hope among the soldiers there. They all looked to her in one way or the other. Whispering thanks or outright declaring their loyalty to her right here and there.

Approaching her, Somnus held a little smile under all the dirt and grime on his face. He could not touch her like that, but he could talk to her. And maybe… well, one hand would do no damage, right?

“Aerith.”, he warned her quietly before fishing for her hand.

“I see… you have everything under control.”

A little compliment. But it was vague. Because Somnus could see the dread in her eyes. He still heard her crying.

Pulling at his clothes a little to reveal the cut at his side, Somnus grinned with a playful little bow. He wanted her to not feel so beaten down… make a little light of this situation. She had cared for everyone who had needed it. Now it was Somnus' own turn, he deemed. Maybe he could get her thoughts off of any dark spirals that lurked in the aftermaths of such attacks.

“Could I request some of your healing water, too?”

[paulmescalsbicep]

heeey can ask for a roommate James in which the air conditioning ends up going out and it's unbearable hot and the reader ends up going to sleep in James' room (which in the end doesn't solve her problem because James is a human heater that gets stuck with him) - 🍓

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ☆.｡.:* roommate!jamespotter x reader wc: 1k

The heat is unbearable. The late July warmth is flooding your small apartment, only managing to be endurable with the work of a shitty floor fan, stolen from James room, now placed in front of your couch. Your luck ran out this morning when the air-con decided to terminate itself on the hottest day of the year. Of course.

You nurse a cold bottle of water head laid back against the pile of pillows resting on the couch. You hear the familiar click of a lock but don’t bother to look up, the movement alone could make you sweat in this weather. “Hey” James said, voice cheery as he took in your exhausted figure laid sprawled out on the couch. 

“Air-con’s still broken, won’t be fixed till Monday” You groaned, still not moving. The thought of even just a weekend stuck without it is too much to bare. “Well I brought you dumplings if that makes it any better?” James confesses placing the plastic bag of takeaway containers on the bench before pulling off his gym bag and throwing it towards the door. 

At that you pull your sweaty body off the sticky leather and make your way to the kitchen. You take in James' figure standing tall before you. Beads of sweat fall from his curls, either from the heat or the gym. Both probably. Heat was kind to James, unlike others. Summer made his skin turn tan and glowy adding to his already god-like presence. Sweat never made him smell bad, instead it made his enticing scent even more notable making it hard to be around him. Just like now.

James serves himself a hefty portion from each container, still leaving enough for you. You take your serve and move to sit on the couch next to him. God, just sitting next to him has your skin rising in temperature even more than before. Your cheeks feel flushed as you try to distract yourself with the meal in front of you. 

You can feel his hazel eyes examining you closely. “You okay lovey?”. Ugh, that stupid nickname that always has you melting at the knees. “Yeah, sorry James. It’s just the heat is making my brain all fuzzy” You sputter out. “I guess I’ll just have to go to bed early.” You joke with a nervous laugh. 

“Wanna take the fan tonight?” He offers, spooning the last mouthful from his plate into his mouth. “No no it’s fine” brushing off his words as you take his plate along with yours and flee to the kitchen to busy yourself with washing up.

-

The evening winds bring the heat down from unbearable to unfavourable. Even in your thinnest pyjamas with the sheets brushed off and away from yourself, it still feels like you're sleeping in an oven. You should have just taken that fan. You make a mental note to go out and buy one tomorrow, there's no way you can survive another night like this. 

James walks past your door, a maroon towel wrapped securely around his trained waist. “You going to bed?” he asks, holding another, smaller,  towel in his hand to scrunch at his damp curls. “Trying too, might end up in a puddle by the morning” You croak. Warm eyes take in your frame, tracing your hips before making their way back to your flushed face. “If you get hot you're always welcome to come to my room, there's plenty of space in my bed.” James says almost nervously, like he was anxious for your reaction to such a bold offer.

The thought of James beautifully bronzing skin against your back is enticing. But the thought of not being able to control your thoughts with him asleep beside you is less ideal. “Thank James” You reply, offering him a polite smile. “Goodnight”. 

"Goodnight, love” He speaks with a wink, usual demeanour back, before turning away and leaving you with flushed cheeks and weak knees.

-

Lifting your head you peer at the alarm clock resting on your side table. 3 am. Your brain is bone-tired and exhausted. You’ve been internally battling yourself on forfeiting to James' offer and just slipping under his sheets. Instead, you wander to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water to occupy your thoughts.

Setting your cup down by the dishwasher you decide to just bite the bullet. Feet softly padding on the floor, you are met with the front of James door. Knocking softly on the hardwood, you twist the knob open and peek inside. There lay James fast asleep, hair spread across his pillow and chest very much bare.

He’s clad in nothing but his boxers, arms clinging to the pillow in front of him. You step towards his bed, taking the pillow carefully from between his arms and slip in the space left behind. His sheets are significantly cooler than yours, thanks to the fan facing directly where you now lay. Resting your head on the pillow, your body finally feels as if it can sleep.

Seconds later, muscular arms wrap around your torso pulling you flush to a warm chest. James' warm chest. His hand reaches down to hold onto your lower stomach, digging into the fat, not letting go. His body was like a human furnace, one you can’t pull away from either due to his iron grip on your waist. 

But maybe it’s a sacrifice worth taking. His heat pulls you to sleep as you breathe in his delicious scent, eyes falling shut and breath falling soft as you sink deeper and deeper…

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 39. victorian child (half-written)

a/n: fun fact i have been sick for the past WEEK. my voice has been so so so raspy and dead and i literally sound like im gonna die and or smoked thirty packs of cigs AND im also coughing like a bitch. yeah. ik a bowl of congee HATES to see me coming (I made a whole pot... i finished that pot in less than two days...)

hanni shuffles a bit and groans, stirring weakly beneath the covers. you’re worried that the rag in her forehead might slip off, so you hold it in place as she groggily blinks.

“what…” she nearly croaks. “i’m gonna be… late…”

“han, it’s okay. the rest of your group talked to the managers and called me here. i’ll take care of you for now, okay?”

“hyein?” hanni questions, pulling her blanket closer.

“…close?” you nearly chuckle.

“yunjin is that—“ hanni finally opens her eyes fully, taking in the sight of you—half amused and half worried—staring down at her. her eyes widen slightly. “y-y/n? what are you—“

“you’re burning up. you have a really high fever, one-o-one.” you sigh, looking at her with pity. “everyone was worried sick.”

“one hundred one degrees? how is that even possible—“

“—fahrenheit. you're not dead yet, don't worry.”

her face is already flushed from her fever, but when she fully registers you—the slight scrunch of worry in your brow, your hair cutely clipped behind your ears, and the loose koala graphic t-shirt you have on—her face is even more flushed under the cloth.

she can barely react, too exhausted and feverish to do anything more than stare and breath. she closes her eyes then, defeated, and sinks deeper into the bed.

meanwhile, you sit beside her, adjusting the cool compress on her forehead that slipped off while she had woken up. her skin is burning up, her breathing slow and heavy, and the way she barely stirs at your touch only makes your concern deepen.

the rest of her members had left her in your care, all of them thanking you like you had saved their lives.

("you're the best, seriously." minji says as she hugs you tight, pulling away and patting you on your shoulder. "I wasn't sure what we would've done... this album is really important and especially the song we have to record today."

"it's nothing." you say casually. "i feel bad that hanni can't go and record with you guys, but i feel even worse because she seems pretty unwell."

hyein gives you one last big hug, and then the rest of the group joins in to trap you. you giggle and hug them back, surprised and amused by the gratitude of the situation.

"i'm sorry for calling you so suddenly, you seemed really tired." hyein mumbles.

when she called you at nine in the morning (five minutes after you had to fight to wake up) you were more than just tired. an unknown caller id called you three times, the same amount of times it took you to respond with slight annoyance until you heard the familiar voice and realized it was hyein calling.

"it's fine." you respond, because after figuring out that you had to wake up for hanni, it was more than fine. "I'll take good care of her, thank you for trusting me with her and also with... uh, being in your dorm."

danielle shakes her head, then smiles. "after hearing about hanni talk about you so much and meeting you in person; you're very much welcome in our dorm anytime."

you smile even wider at that comment before ushering everyone out. "okay, go, go. i know how recording's can be, and how the schedules are, so go. i don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything." you urge. before they leave, they make sure to give you all their contact information to give and receive updates.)

you glance at your phone to see no messages from any of them, then back at hanni, watching as her lips part slightly with a soft breath. you sigh, adjusting the blanket so it sits over her shoulder before shifting to sit on the floor beside her bed, your back against the frame. it's quiet, other than the faint hum of the heater, occasional rustle of the sheets, and soft groans as she shifts slightly in her fevered sleep.

every few minutes you reach up to check the cloth, replacing it with a freshly dampened one and alternating between the two cloths four times. you don't mind waiting—watching over her like this, making sure she's okay.

and even though hanni is barely conscious, barely functional to form a thought through her exhaustion, she notices the way you linger and the feeling of the temperature on her forehead changing here and there. she notices every quiet action showing that you care.

—

a little over thirty minutes pass and you switch the rag on hanni's forehead one last time, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her damp skin before standing up. she barely moves, lost in her sleep, but you hesitate for a second before deciding to head out to the kitchen.

"i'll be back, han." you say softly, placing your hand on her shoulder.

the dorm is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. you roll up your sleeves as you get to the kitchen and unpack your tote bag, taking out each ingredient carefully. you begin chopping ginger, mushrooms, garlic, and pre-cooked chicken—staples for the congee you're making. the sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the space as you work, focused yet extremely mindful of who's resting in the other room.

fifteen more minutes pass and you've already started boiling the rice with your chopped ingredients. you're nearly done as is. suddenly, you hear soft, unsteady footsteps and turn, catching hanni in your sight as she emerges out from the hall.

she's wrapped in a crewneck and blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she blinks at you, sluggish and dazed, before speaking tiredly,

"y/n, you… why are you... here?"

you immediately lower the heat and rush over to hanni, your hands hovering uncertainly between steadying her shoulders or guiding her back to bed.

she tilts her head slightly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

"you didn't answer me." hanni mumbles, giving in and leaning against you to support herself. "how did you even... get here?"

"you're going to pass out, you should've stayed in your room." you sigh, guiding her toward the couch gently. "hyein called me. she said you were sick, and I was worried." you adjust the blanket around her as she settles into the cushions, still looking up at you with something unreadable in her expression. "I came as soon as she called."

"but—"

"no." you interrupt, kneeling in front of her to get her comfy. "I only have a few online things for a class, so don't worry. i basically have a free day, why not spend it on you? just focus on getting better, han."

hanni doesn't argue. she just watches as you stand and return to the kitchen, resuming your work.

the warm scent of whatever it is that you're cooking fills the air while you season further. hanni pulls the blanket tighter around herself, gaze locked onto your back as you move. the way you check on her between stirring the pot, the way your brows knit while adding a few more mushrooms—it's like you were made to do this, to care and be attentive to even the smallest things.

something tugs at hanni's heart.

once the congee is finished, you ladle some into a bowl, letting the steam rise before setting it on the counter to cool. you run to hanni's room to grab the bowl with damp rags and return to her side, setting it on the coffee table as you sit next to her. you place the rag on her head against and she lets out a small sigh at the cool relief, her eyes barely open as she looks at you.

"the food is still hot," you murmur, reaching out instinctively. your hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing against her heated skin as you check her temperature.

hanni leans into your touch. it's barely a movement—soft, fleeting, and she probably isn't aware of it either—but you feel it like a spark. the warmth of her skin lingers against your palm longer than it should and your thumb brushes against her on its own. you swallow, but she doesn't seem to notice, too tired to register the weight of the moment.

you drop your hand after a second and she turns her head slightly on the couch, still watching you through drowsy eyes.

"thank you," she mumbles. "really... you didn't.. have to.. have to do all this."

you shake your head, leaning back slightly and meeting her with the same look she has in her eyes. "it's nothing."

"no, but i mean it," she insists, her voice barely above a whisper. "you took..." she breathes in slowly, sinking deeper into her blanket before continuing, "time out of your day just to come all the way here—to take care of me."

you let out a small laugh, shrugging. "well, you're a friend I care a lot about."

hanni blinks, something unreadable flickering in her tired eyes before she lets out a quiet hum. "i— thank you. I'm glad we're... friends."

you don't know how to respond to that. the way she says it feels like there's something more beneath the surface, but she's also terribly sick so you could just be overthinking everything. before you can dwell on it further, hanni shifts, resting her head against the couch.

"lucky me." she says softly, already halfway to sleep.

you exhale, watching as her breathing starts to even and her blinking get slower. "right," you start, "you have to eat something. i think it should be cooled." you look away from her, breaking the tension filled with something uncertain but not unwelcome.

hanni watches you grab the bowl and sit up, scooping a small bite and blowing on it a few times before holding the spoon towards her. she hesitates before finally parting her lips, eating without a complaint despite being sluggish.

"good?" you ask quietly.

she nods, chewing slowly. "mhm. you're a good cook."

"i know," you tease, earning a weak chuckle from her.

you bring up another spoonful, but before she takes it, you notice a bit of rice stuck at the corner of her lips. without thinking, you reach forward, brushing it away with your thumb.

hanni stills. her eyes flick up to yours, surprised, but she doesn't pull back. neither do you.

"you're being extra nice today," hanni mutters, voice tinged with something unreadable.

you huff a small laugh, reaching for a cup of warm water. "you're sick, hanni. what kind of person would I be if I wasn't?"

she lets you tilt her chin up slightly even when it earns a weird turn in her stomach. she also lets you assist her in sipping the water, wiping away at the drop that rolls down to her chin.

"i, uh, um. there was this, um, time." you start nervously, trying to break the dreadful tension in the air. "my friend back in new york, he... he got sick and his parents were away. i had to take care of him like this. so don't worry about... me taking care of you. it's nothing. i just want you to be okay hanni."

"you're lovely, y/n." hanni sounds and looks drunk with a mix of just completely tired. it's almost amusing how cute she looks.

for the next hour you sit beside her and finish some assignments on your laptop. every so often you glance her way, checking her temperature and switching out the rags. hanni doesn't say much, just watches you everytime she wakes up, eyes flickering between your hands on the keyboard and the quiet concentration on your face.

"i feel a lot better now," she finally says, breaking the silence and halting your typing.

you glance at her and smile. "yeah?"

she hums in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep starts to take over.

hanni motions for you to scoot over, and if this were any of your other friends you'd tell them to back off because of their sickness—with hanni, you shift closer. and then she leans on you a bit, the weight of her head pushing against your arm. you don't say anything else, just watch as she drifts off, her features relaxed, her breathing soft and even.

she looks peaceful—so pretty even while she's overheating and feverish.

carefully—without moving your arm—you reach for the rag again, switching it out for a colder one. you do it over and over, making sure she's comfortable. even though the room is quiet, and even though she's asleep; you don't feel alone.

if anything, you feel closer than before. your heart can't decide if it likes the feeling or not.

masterlist ; previous - next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Can I have skeletons reacting to a narcoleptic S/O? Like they have that medical condition that makes them sleep randomly.

Undertale Sans - .... What do you mean it's a medical condition? Yep. That's how Sans figures out what it calls lol. Sans is narcoleptic as well. He doesn't have cataplexy like you, but that's one of the reasons he's sleepy all the time and is so tired despite sleeping so much. That's a big change in his life to be aware of it. He learns to live with it watching you live with it. It still tenses him a little to watch you randomly collapse while he's talking to you, but he's used to it by now. He feels sorry you two can't do things sometimes because you're collapsing on top of one another and sleeping for hours like this.

Undertale Papyrus - He became an expert at predicting when you're going to fall. He sees when you're struggling. He won't lie, at first he thought you were mocking him trying to imitate Sans and he got a bit upset, but it turns out that's a real thing and now he's having an existential crisis. Is his brother lazy or does he have something similar? Because that for sure looks familiar to him. Oh well, nothing he can't adapt to. Papyrus is the best at adapting!

Underswap Sans - He's a little annoyed he can't be excited around you as excitation triggers cataplexy. He can get used to it with time, but he is still frustrated you can't follow him in all of his adventures because of your narcolepsy. Also, when he's really focused, he tends to forget you behind and doesn't notice when you fall asleep, which can lead to some awkward situations where you wake up lost and all alone.

Underswap Papyrus - You found out that Honey's service dog who alerts him when he's about to pass out can also detect when you're about to fall asleep. So Honey called the organization that gave him the dog to see if you could have your own service dog too. Now there are four service dogs at home for Honey's greatest pleasure and you know when to sit down or call for help outside thanks to them.

Underfell Sans - Red had that bad habit of getting out of the way when he sees you fall lol. He knows he's supposed to catch you but all his little head can see is your giant body falling on him and he never reacts fast enough. So, uh, since it's upsetting you a little, he pretends like he totally saved you now and that you only have bruises because some of his bones are sharp. You're suspicious but you can't really prove anything.

Underfell Papyrus - He needs to protect. You're giving him anxiety. How is he supposed to save your life if you fall asleep while running away? Edge doesn't like when you randomly fall asleep, especially outside, because he's always scared someone will hurt you. He's nervous when he has to leave the house, and he hates when strangers come to help you. He doesn't like the idea of a lot of people knowing this weakness and yes, he might be a bit protective.

Horrortale Sans - He has the same type of narcolepsy you have so you're having interesting days. Usually, when one of you falls asleep, the other falls asleep soon after, and it sometimes sends you both into a sleep circle and you need Willow to step in to save you two lol. Oak thinks it's funny you're so similar sometimes.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's already used to it with his brother, so that's fine. Unfortunately, Willow can't catch you when you're falling though, so when he sees you acting weird he screams at you to sit on the floor. Sometimes it feels like he has eyes behind the head as he can scream at you to sit from anywhere in the house. You're pretty sure he has a weird superpower or something.

Swapfell Sans - He's patient, so whenever you fall while you two are talking, he pauses what he says to catch you, wait for you to wake up, and then unpauses what he was saying and keeps going. Nox doesn't mind, even though it can sometimes stress him a little when it's happening several times in a row. Well, to be more precise, this is fine now. At first he thought you were possessed and locked you outside by fear you transformed into a zombie or something.

Swapfell Papyrus - One second you're in the couch, falling asleep, the next one you're on the top of Mount Ebott. Rus favorite game is to teleport somewhere every time you fall asleep and watch you get extremely confused when you wake up. He could never get bored of this, which is sort of a problem. He could never take this seriously, sorry.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Every time you fall asleep, he picks up a broom and pokes you in the ribs to see if you're alive. You never know. Maybe you died and he can finally have your money, you know. You hear him let go a discreet "damn it" every time you wake up. You're not sure if you should be offended or not about it.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Well that's perfect. Since you're confused every time you wake up, he teleports you to bed and pretends like you were cuddling him so you cuddle him. You're pretty sure you cuddle Coffee twenty times today but he keeps assuring you it's not true. You have doubts, somehow.

[random-blurbs]

Lingering Feelings

caleb x reader

Laying down you heard his soft breaths right across from you. You couldn't believe he was right in front of you.

Your hand hovered over his mouth slightly agape as you felt his breath meet your palm.

He was alive and healthy. Yet he was different. So different than your Caleb. He still made sure that you were well taken care of. The bedroom you two share he fixed it where it resembled the one you had in your previous apartment. Living in a familiar room with the man you grew up with and love its strange. The feeling in your chest wouldn't go away. You are happy and you know it. But the pit in your stomach wouldn’t go away. And you desperately want it to.

Opening his eyes you pulled your hand back quickly as a knowing smile grazed his lips. “How long were you awake for?” He whispered out letting out a small yawn. “Not long just thinking.” He raised his eyebrow already catching the stress on your face. The furrow of your brow and as you bit your lip nervously he reached out trying to give it a rest. Already seeing the cuts littering them as he sat up concerned cradling your face. “Obviously not. Why don’t you tell me?” Even though it was a question it was more like command. Fitting his new persona.

A persona that is confusing you. He’s concerned for you as always but the commanding tone he takes. It scares you. “I still can’t believe it’s you.” You mumbled out holding onto his hand tighter as you took in his face. The same eyes that always held care for you. “What would make you believe me?” He tried helping your process in accepting him but your body wont let you.

Shaking your head you slightly pulled away from him leaving him hurt as he reluctantly put his hands away from you. “I don’t know it’ll probably just take awhile. I mean you understand right?” You cautiously said. He shook his head as he gritted his teeth. “I’ve been trying y/n.”

“It’s been months and you somehow refuse to accept me.” He was desperate as he tried looking for a in. But you had to look away if you saw the sadness in his eyes you would somehow cave. And he knows it.

“But you were supposed to be dead!” You finally yelled out. Frustrated that you had let it go months ago when you first saw him glad he was in front of you. “Don’t you get it! I grieved for you, I couldn’t sleep, eat, function, because I lost you!” You cried out as you see the flurry of emotions pass through his face. Your body felt too hot to be laying finally getting up, to get away from him. Your mind was reeling as you felt your breathing quicken. “You were gone, I lost my best-friend, my lover…”

It was strange.

On that day of the explosion you knew what you wanted. And you were tired of beating around the bush with him. You were practically always by one another’s side keeping any potential lovers away from one another. Kissing his cheek on graduation day was the seal that you thought he would take advantage of. But no he stayed at that. Just best friends helping each other keep potential lovers interests away.

“Do you not see me as anything more?” You had asked him tugging at your torn arm sleeve nervously.

“Hm? What’s gotten into you.” He jokingly said looking back at you. You bit your lip nervously as you thought of the consequences that might follow if you actually go through with it. “I’m not kidding Caleb! I actually want to talk to you about this.” You desperately said which he immediately fixed his attitude for. The playful glint left his eyes as he carried a concerned expression. “I’m sorry y/n. You can tell me I’ll listen.” You were grateful he was able to make you feel heard but feeling heard right now might be the death of you.

“Do you think we can be something more?” You nervously said as your expression fell to the floor not wanting to see anything disappointing on his face. “W-what do you mean?” Letting out an exasperated sigh you couldn’t believe he wasn’t getting it. “I want to be your girlfriend you idiot or at least try dating!” You finally confessed gathering your strength to look at him. His expression had you stunned.

The confident Caleb you had always known who was never thrown off by your quick remark.

He was standing there his ears tinged red as he had one of his hands over his face trying to hide his expression. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Getting more confident you got closer to him as he turned his head away from you. “I do! I’m 100% in I just need to know if you are-umph!” Stumbling back you were surprised as you felt his soft lips against yours. The taste of iron had filled your tastebuds as you realized you made yourself bleed earlier. He didn’t seem to mind as he tilted your head back deepening the kiss not letting you have any control. And you didn’t mind. You love him. You learned that way too late.

The craving he had for you was unstoppable. He just needed the confirmation from you all these years. He was glad you did it now he didn’t know how long more he could’ve waited. But as he felt every part of you the warmth he craved is right in front of him now.

Finally pulling away from him you were breathing heavily as you felt your face hot with embarrassment. “Dammit!” Hiding your face with your hands you hear him laugh at your antics. “You can’t be embarrassed now, we’re going to do so much more than kiss-.”

“It’s not that!” You cut him off as you got annoyed that he thinks you couldn’t handle a simple kiss. “It’s the fact I wanted a cute confession or something from you but you just had to take your sweet time!” Laughing at you again he pet your head lovingly as you see him openly look at you with so much love. The sight filled your own heart with even more love.

“Ok I’m sorry I’ll set up an amazing jaw-dropping confession that you’ll forget that you even confessed me in such a desperate way.” Rolling your eyes you shoved him forward towards the house as he continued to laugh. “Whatever it better be the best thing I’ve seen.”

“Don’t worry I don’t plan on disappointing you. Now hurry up or you’re not getting anything!”

You wanted the feeling to last forever. You got practically everything you’ve wanted.

And just as quickly it was ripped away.

You couldn’t believe it. You had him. You were holding him. He was so close to you. And yet you lived. That thought had you wailing in pain as no one can bring you comfort. You lost those you wanted to protect. You lost your future with him and you just had him.

“You wouldn’t get it Caleb! I thought I lost everything, you became my everything!” You cried out as Caleb stood there guiltily.

Logically you know you shouldn’t be mad at him he told you the reason why. But everything that came after, that man you confessed to is gone. And that killed you because you still love him.

“I’m so sorry y/n if I had known everything from the start things would be so different. You wouldn’t be hurting like this.” He took careful steps towards you as you held yourself trying to soothe your shaking body. The anger, the guilt, the despair was tearing your body apart. He pulled you into his chest as you weakly grabbed his body not wanting to let go. Scared that if you push him away again he’ll leave. “But I’m here now and I’ll make it all right ok? I promise you y/n I will never hurt you like that again.” You shake your head at his words knowing where it’s going.

“Don’t make those promises Caleb, if you make that promise I swear-.”

“But I am.” Cradling your face he lifted it towards him the pain in his eyes were unforgettable as he tried soothing you. “I promise you I will never leave you like that again. I will do anything to keep you safe. I’ll do anything you want and I’ll get you everything you want.” Pressing light kisses over your face you closed your eyes trying to take everything in. Ingraining it into your memory as you remembered that the kiss you once shared was leaving your memory, you no longer remembered the feeling, his eyes, his smile and the thought had you dying. You want to remember it all.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was firm as the determination in his eyes was familiar. He knew you too well. “I won’t leave you with these memories. We’re going to make new ones over and over again. And you’ll remember it all.” You smiled at him sadly as he pinched your cheek pulling you out of your sadness monetarily. “What the-.”

“Let’s go.” Pulling your hand towards the closet he pulled out a sweater and threw it at you. “What are you doing?” You asked but without missing a beat you put it on. “We’re going out. We’re starting this right now.” He said confidently with a cheesy smile. He fixed your hair for you quickly smoothing it out as he tugged you towards the door. “Caleb it’s 5am what’s even open?”

He looked back at you and that smile of his. You forgot how much you missed it as your eyes widened. “Have I ever disappointed you-.”

“Yes.”

“Let me talk!” Chuckling you smiled at him fondly as he seemed disappointed that you messed with his speech.

“We’re going to make memories every day, every hour, every minute, and I promise you I’ll make up every minute of pain I brought you.” His hand left yours as he brought up his hand towards you. And he was standing there sweetly with his pinky up. “Really?”

“It’s not a promise unless we seal it.” Wiping your tears away sweetly with his other hand you interlocked your pinkies as he smiled at you not planning to let you go. No matter what he’ll keep you away from the painful world and keep you here where you can be happy; with him.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Requesting a Jade Leech thing where the reader and Jade have been broken up with, but he’s a manipulative bastard and fully intends on charming them back. Get as creative as you want with the prompt, I just wanna see him being all scheming lmao

(I’ve had “bad idea right?” stuck in my head on loop)

🌑I'm gonna make this a bit more comedic, hope you like it :))

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚���𝐞

Jade seemed strangely unaffected when you told him you wanted to break up, accepting it easily with an oddly peaceful smile on his face. Just what is he up to?

You tried to steer clear of him for a while, in fear of what he might be scheming as well as for your own emotional stability, but he always just seemed to be there. 

Studying in the library? There he is, just standing around suspiciously, looking as effortlessly beautiful as always.

Enjoying a snack at the lounge? He’s the only one who brings it to you everytime, despite how many other workers there are, flashing a soft, gentlemanly smile and wishing you ‘bon appétit’ in a sugar sweet tone.

Talking to a cute underclassman stuttering through his attempt at asking for your number? Suddenly he seizes up like he’s being shocked and makes up some sorry excuse to run off in the other direction. When you turn around, there he is, smiling innocently and waving at you from where he stands – no doubt having a hand in what just happened.

You quickly started to understand why he looked so unbothered when you were breaking up with him – that was his scheming face, already thinking up ways of driving you back to his arms.

Loneliness won't be what does it. You’re stubborn, damn it! And the more he tries the more you want to see how far he’s willing to take this little game. It shows effort, at least, it’s just a shame he seems so hellbent on making you give in instead of having an adult conversation. 

So you play his game. Jade is a jealous man – nothing makes him spring into action like envy, this you know for certain. Next time you pass by the lounge to study, you make sure to sit at the bar and never acknowledge him, instead making loud conversation with Floyd about… whatever it is he’s rambling about, though he seems to be in a happy mood which is good for you.

He talks so much at you that it’s barely a conversation, more like a sermon of some kind – especially so given his passionate tone, Though you know Jade pays little mind to those details while he’s boiling with jealousy behind the bar. And to anyone watching you two it sure looks like you’ve moved on from Jade and onto his brother.

You leave the lounge that day exhausted but pleased, knowing you’ve successfully riled Jade up more than he did you. Maybe this’ll be enough for him to let you move on… but then again… do you want to move on?

Caught up in your conflicting thoughts you fail to hear him approach until he’s breathing down your neck. Startling, your back bumps against a nearby wall as you quickly turn around, seeing Jade right in front of you with a strangely neutral expression on his pretty face.

“...Jade?” You try to sound casual, but you’re sure the fright seeps into your tone regardless of your efforts.

He calls your name softly in turn, a troubled look crossing his face for a moment, “Had a fun time listening to Floyd prattle?”

Lips twisting in indignation, you righten your posture, “Very much so! He's a surprisingly good listener – compared to a certain brother of his.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” You assure him disingenuously, arms crossed petulantly. Jade watches you silently for a moment, a familiar look of longing in his eyes – forming a tightness in your chest, before he sighs heavily. For a moment you think he might finally be honest with you, open up about how he truly feels and vow to be better – it’s all it’d take for you to take him back. But of course, it can't be that easy to change such a man.

For now, he settles for leaning in close, one hand against the wall behind you and taking a lock of hair between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. You hold in an undignified squeal.

“Just don't have too much fun with him. We both know he could never compare.”

You scoff, “I think you’ve been watching too many romance movies. You seem to be getting slightly delusional.” Shouldering past him you walk away without looking back to see his thoughtful expression. Not that you’d know what it means or care! Hmph!

If only you could both just talk to each other,  there’d be no need for these silly games. Though they sure are fun…

[starburr]

Beach date but Marcy can't quite come with Sasha and Anne. They understand, she's got quite the sting of trauma with water. Not just seeing it, but feeling the waves rock onto her skin, like it's about to pull her unto its dark depths. There's not much room for speculation to wonder why that is. But they don't force her to come with them, instead, opting for a cute idea so she can participate.

She wakes up with a groan. Anne and Sasha had told her the night before about their plans, saying that they'd be back before sundown. The empty bed telling her everything she already needed to know, scratching her back as she pulled back the curtains. The analog clock read 8:03am. It was strange of her to be up this early, having gone to bed at midnight as she reluctantly paused her progress on a new page. Not her fault her webcomic was taking so long to work on, even at one chapter a week it was still challenging to pace herself. After a stretch and some self-encouragement however, she goes down to the kitchen for an impromptu breakfast, phone in hand.

Oh, well this was a surprise... They had anticipated she'd be hungry, and had laid out a rather modest spread of food for her, note included.

'Heya baby, of course we wouldn't just leave you to wake up sad. So we made you breakfast! Love, your skrunklies". She chuckled at the sign-off. They weren't quite right about using the term but not wrong completely neither. She swore she felt her heart flutter, each bite accompanied by thoughts of what the other two might be doing at the sandy coast of LA. Her face flushed red at the thought of them in bikinis, imagining their toned bodies and soft b-

She shut that thought up before she audibly stammered, embarrassed but giddy nonetheless.

Her phone buzzed.

It was in their group chat of course, from Sasha. The familiar sight of a play button meant that whatever video she had sent, it was bound to be good. And with haste, she was immediately greeted by the sight of Sasha's face. A little windswept considering she was running away from Anne, who was in the background giving chase.

"Hiiiii Marcycakes, sorry about the- whoa! Whoops!" She seemed to jump over a pile of sand, whether that was a person under there or a sandcastle, it was not clear.

"Anyways uh, yeah so Anne had the great idea of sending you videos and pics of our day! Pretty neat, huh?" Her blonde hair buffeting up in her face as she continued to run, Anne's screaming in the background. It didn't seem serious if anything, more so just playful.

Marcy had settled down on the couch by now, making a mental note to wash the dishes in a while after the video ended.

"We'll send you more later, byeeeee!!! COME BACK HERE SASHY I SWEA-" Was the last thing she heard as the phone was still showing off the beach and Sasha's dumb pretty face, Anne trailing not far behind unlike her voice. This was going to be an eventful day, she thought as she promptly awaited another video, making her way to the sink with a smile.

[redsixwing]

You might enjoy researching folktale motifs (essentially, exactly this!) Or, if you're interested in an academic read, Stith Thompson's "The Folktale."

Also I'd totally reblog those polls.

i'm not doing this because it would be a lot of work but a while ago there was a really good thread on twitter about fairytale retellings and the essential core of a story - people have different feelings about what the essential features of any given fairytale are, so if the reader's essential feature of, say, Cinderella is different from the author's, they'll say the book isn't really a retelling of Cinderella.

for example, to me Cinderella's essential features are

mistreatment by family

unexpected help from an outside figure

mysterious attendance at an exclusive event

recognition by a token afterwards

there are a couple more i'd like to see but aren't essential.

anyway that's a lot of preamble to the part that's work, but i think an interesting poll series would be "what do you think the essential features of [fairytale] are?"

[seumyo]

when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[maskedbyghost]

jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7

even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…

and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.

the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."

"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.

"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."

simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.

frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.

simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."

shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.

*

later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.

"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"

"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."

"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”

“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.

simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.

"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.

*

soap: so, i guess it worked?

y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  

soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”