#and sorry for the late reply TT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitten4sannie · 6 months ago

Text

𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒

pairing: bf! yunho x gf! reader

genre: pure smut

summary: yunho teaches you something new ♡

w.c: 1.3k

warnings: the softest dom to ever exist! yunho (he’s lwk perverted tho) , subby good girl! reader, subspace, major daddy kink <3, pet names (kitten, princess, sweetheart, baby), BIG DICK YUYU AGENDA 🫡, all praise baybeeee, one tiny instance of name calling but it’s not super direct, yuyu gives reader directions <3, corruption kink helloo, loss of anal virginity, implied marathon sex/creampies, anal fingering, clit play, overstim, brief (rough) missionary, squirting

a/n: LISTEN . i’m just a girl … (and have been quite feverish from having a nasty cold TT) but yeah i decided to write something entirely self indulgent and im not sorry uwu so if this is your cup of tea then please feel free to take a sip ♡ just be carefulll, it’s still hot ~

It was a typical Saturday morning for you and your boyfriend: both sleeping in till the late afternoon, leaving your phones on silent, ready to chill out after another long work week — though Yunho and you had recently adopted a unique routine of relaxation.

It usually began and ended with you stuffed to the brim with your boyfriend’s oversized cock, teary-eyed, and begging for more. However, after the third or fourth round, you couldn’t help but tap out for a moment, wondering if you’d finally get pregnant this time after taking a pounding for god knows how long, but, of course, you didn’t want the fun to end. There had to be some kind of solution, right?

Just as Yunho was about to shove his slick cock back inside you after leaving a few cumshots on your soft tummy, you pressed a hand into his chest, causing him to stop and look attentively at you. “Yunnie, my kitty’s full…”

“You wanna stop for now, kitten?” he asked gently, reaching down to run his long fingers through your hair.

“No, I wanna keep going!” you insisted with a small pout, your nuzzling into his palm when he caressed your cheek next. “Just wanna do something else for a bit~”

Yunho looked as though he was lost in thought, before his lips suddenly quirked up into an inquisitive smirk, his honey brown eyes shining with perversion. “How about we try playing with your other hole, princess?”

“M-my other hole?” you squeaked, your already flushed cheeks growing that much warmer. You’ve thought about it many times, having experimented a few times on your own, but never quite knowing what to do and exactly how to do it to make yourself feel good. Your fingers were short, to began with, so you never had much of a fighting chance, but with Yunho…it would be much, much more different. Your smile began to reflect Yunho’s. “Is Daddy going to take my anal virginity?”

“Oh, princess, I already own all of you,” he cooed into your ear, still hovering over you, amused by how small you look underneath his much bigger frame. “Spread your legs for me.”

“Yes, Yuyu,” you replied, smiling lazily up at him, a bit dazed from already cumming a few times. You always listened to your boyfriend, especially when he plays with you. “Like this?”

“Yes, just like that, kitten. Very good.” Yunho couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear, always so pleased with how good of a listener you are, and how eager you were to try something new with him. He then brought his pointer finger up to your mouth, nodding his head when you let it inside. “That’s right, just get it wet for me, okay?”

Sharing loving eye contact with Yunho, you sucked gently on his finger, letting out as few sporadic moans as he idly rubbed a thumb around your sensitive clit. His finger eventually left your mouth with a pop. “What now, Yunnie?”

“Now, just lay back and let Daddy take care of his princess…” your boyfriend answered sweetly, grasping the underside of your ass with one hand, squeezing into it roughly and eliciting a small squeak of pleasure from you. “Here we go…” He brought his other hand down from your mouth and slowly coaxed his long, slender finger into your tight hole. “Is this okay? How does it feel?”

“F-feels kind of weird…”

“I hear you. Take a deep breath and let your body relax, princess…”

Taking in a long breath and letting it out in increments, your body naturally grew more relaxed, allowing Yunho’s finger to enter deeper. “O-oh…”

“Good? Bad?”

“G-good, keep going, Yunnie…”

Diligently studying your face and body language for any sign of discomfort, Yunho slowly began to push his finger in and out of your hole, allowing it to become more accustomed to the intrusion. Just as he pushed all the way in to his knuckle, you arched your back and reached out to grab his closest forearm, a sudden moan tearing out of your throat. “Yeah? Is that the spot, baby?”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, as though you had a revelation, your dilated eyes shining with wonder, suddenly seeing the world in a new light. You now had access to a pleasure you didn’t even know existed until now, thanks to your boyfriend. “More, please, Daddy…”

“Aww, you want more, princess? Want me to stretch out your little hole?” Yunho asked in a lilted tone, chuckling at your eager nodding. He wasted no time pulling his fingers out to send a wad of spit down onto them and pushing them both in at once, speeding up his movements once your hole allowed him to, taking in all the pretty sounds you began to make. “Does kitten think she can cum for Daddy just from having her ass played with?”

“Nnngh, yes, Daddy, I can…” With how warm and heavy your lower half was starting to feel, it was entirely possible for you to cum. You just needed a little push to make it over the edge. “Feels so good…”

“Yeah? Oh, god, baby, that makes me so happy. Daddy just knew you’d be a slut for anal,” Yunho mused with delight, unable to keep himself from wrapping his free hand around his throbbing cock and stroking it with vigor.

“Can’t help it,” you whined, tears pricking at your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation and the visual of Yunho eagerly getting off to all of it.

Yunho pouted down at you, cooing, “Aww, my princess was born to be a play toy, huh? Made just for pleasure?”

“Yes, fuck – Daddy, I was..!”

With his fingers still stuffed inside your hole, your boyfriend watched you squirm and jolt around underneath him, able to tell by the fucked-out face you were making that you were seconds away from cumming. “Fuck, Is kitten going to cum? Gonna make a big mess for Daddy?”

“Yes, just for you, just for you,” you repeated in between breathy moans, arching your back just as Yunho dropped his heavy cock down onto your cunt and dragged it up over your throbbing clit. “Oh, god–”

“That’s it, baby, I got you, let it out for me,” Yunho encouraged you under his breath, still dragging his cock back and forth across your clit, globs of pre-cum smearing onto your already slick skin. He watched you fall apart underneath him with love in his hooded eyes. Yunho was close, oh so close, but he just needed one more thing.

“F-fuck–” You were so busy drowning in pleasure that you weren’t aware of Yunho’s next plan of action.

“Good job, princess,” Yunho praised sweetly, giving your forehead a soft kiss. “Hey, can you be a good girl and open up for me? You can do that for me, yeah?” Before you had a chance to fully ride out your orgasm, Yunho slid his cock back inside your soaked cunt once you gave him a small nod and drunken smile, able to bottom out completely because of the mess he had left inside you not long ago, pumping himself inside you as though you were an onahole he was using out of desperation.

“Yunnie, oh my god…!”

“Fuck, good girl, Y/N, such a good fuckin’ girl…” Yunho groaned into your ear, as he felt your warm squirt coat his cock. He couldn’t help but pound himself into you, holding you close as he fucked yet another load into your womb, always delightfully surprised by how much you could take of him each time. “Mm, baby…How was that?”

“I loved it, Yunho,” you replied lovingly, wrapping your arms and shaky thighs around him, nuzzling his cheek. “I love trying new things with you.”

Yunho nuzzled you back, rubbing small circles into the sides of your hips. “In that case, we should try some more new things soon.” He met your inquisitive gaze with a sideways smile, his eyes gleaming with perversion.

“Lots of new things,” you reiterated playfully, mirroring his lustful enthusiasm.

Yunho, in turn, looked like he was about to pounce on you again. All he was missing was a wagging tail. “Now…?”

“Now.”

apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

gn tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @baguette-atiny @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @multistanbaby @watermelon2319

#ateez #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #yunho x reader #i love queue ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

1K notes · View notes

b1mbodoll · 2 years ago

Note

i’d pick u anyday angel don’t worry <3 -🪽

blushing n kicking my feet 🤭

#sorry for the late reply i just saw this TT #♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.sweetheart: 🪽

0 notes

flwrstqr · 1 year ago

Text

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow.

“At the party,” you mumbled.

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him.

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time.

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive.

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims.

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind?

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him.

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls.

“Huh?” you look up from talking.

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks.

“Uhm..” you hesitate.

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts.

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him?

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak.

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart.

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you.

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist.

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time.

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back.

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter.

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could.

1K notes · View notes

lemonsprite · 10 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 || 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 (𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: he’s so sorry!! Word count: Warnings: angst I suppose <\3 (but also comfort) and not beta read TT I have horrible grammar A/N: needed to put a break in bc this bitch is too long!!!!!!!! I want Hugh Jackman on a primal level

Logan’s back was killing him. He was hunched over a barstool, currently nursing a Pilsner while drowning in self pity- not like he had much else to do at the moment.

“I’m cutting you off man, you look like shit.” Remarked the bartender, looking down at Logan with sickening pity. “Go home.”

“Don’t have one.” Logan bite back, his voice no louder than a grumble as he sulked. That was a lie. He had a home, with Charles, and Scott, and Ororo, and a hundred other mutants but all of that was a faraway thought for Logan. No, all he really cared for right now was how much he missed your warm bed. He missed his home, your home.

The bartender raised a disapproving eyebrow at Logan and he could tell when he wasn’t wanted.

Groggily and very drunk, Logan stood from the barstool, holding onto the counter of the bar for help as he made his way to the front door, the bright illuminated ‘open’ sign causing his eyes to squint and the already tell tale signs of a killer hangover tomorrow to kick in.

Outside was dead silent, even the crickets seemed afraid to chirp in the presence of Logan as he stumbled his way down the street to an old rain rusted payphone, covered in shitty aged graffiti.

The humid summer air stuck to Logan’s skin, and he slapped at his neck, attempting to kill a pesky mosquito as he fumbled for his wallet.

Logan’s leather wallet that was held together by a single string only contained two things.

One- a very very expired drivers license, and two- a crinkled old Polaroid of you, smiling happily five years ago when you and Logan first met. On the back, scribbled in almost illegible chicken scratch was a slew of numbers, numbers his shaking fingers began to dial on the old payphone.

Logan brought the receiver up into the ear, doing the old song and dance when it came to shitty pay phones like these before the robot operator instructed him to say his name into the phone.

“It’s Logan, sorry to bother Bub… I know it’s late.” He mumbled quietly into the receiver, playing anxiously with the long coiled line of the phone.

Patiently he waited for one second, then two before the stress relieving sound of a click could be heard from the other end.

“Is everything okay Logan?” You asked, your voice soft, half asleep, and full of worry.

Logan paused for a moment, thinking over his next words as best as his intoxicated mind could.

“Yeah… yeah there’s just a lot goin’ on right now and I dunno…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just needed to hear your voice…”

He leaned against the phone booth, the receiver tucked securely into his shoulder as he realized how utter pathetic he must’ve looked currently.

“Where are you? Do you need help?” You questioned, your voice writhe with anxiety and he could hear you throwing on your bath robe and slippers, grabbing your car keys and unlocking the front door.

Logan felt horrible for crawling to you, begging for help when he was the one to push you away in the first place but another, very drunk, selfish side of himself yearned to hold you in his arms and sleep in once more on your queen size mattress.

“Nah. I don’t need help.” Logan finally decided, his voice a mixture of gruff stoicism and… something else.

There was a small pause. A moment of reconsideration.

“I’m at the phone booth across the bar.” He admitted, voice low and slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll be there in five.” You reply sternly, the phone line going dead with a familiar disconnecting click.

Logan couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. Even though he’d never admit it, some old still hopelessly in love part of him was happy to know you’d still be willing to drop everything at two AM and hunt him down at some dingy dive bar.

True to your word, within five minutes, Logan heard the noise of your old car approaching. The headlights illuminating the cement and causing Logan to squint. You pulled over, stopping a foot from the phone booth.

The cars window rolled down revealing you, your hair still tousled from sleep and your bathrobe barely clinging to your shoulders.

“Get in Lo’… you can spend the night at my place.” You frowned, pursing your lips as you gestured with your head for Logan to get into the passenger seat.

Logan’s usual stern expression melted away upon seeing you for the first time in what felt like forever. Your anxious expression matching his as he climbed into your car, feeling himself melt back into the seat like he’d never left.

“Lead the way bub.” He hummed coarsely, the seat creaking under his weight and his muscular body taking up a large portion of the cabin.

Now thoroughly sobered up, the drive home was filled with awkward silence, the tension so thick you could cut into it like butter. The roads were dark and your eyes stay glued to the road almost as if you were ignoring Logan’s presence.

The cars headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the deserted streets as Logan tapped his fingers against the edge of the window, his heart tight with a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

Logan stole glances now and again at your face. Taking in the familiar lines etched into your skin and the way you pursed your lips when concentrating.

“Been awhile since I’ve been here huh?” He asked, attempting to break the awkward silence as his chair creaked in protest when he attempted to lean back.

“Missed you Lo’.” You said softly, almost quiet enough for Logan to not hear. “I think about you every day… wether your alive or dead… happy or injured and bloody…”

Logan bite his lip, taken aback by the sudden sincerity of your words, not expecting that much vulnerability from you. He glanced over, his eyes meeting yours before quickly returning to the dark pavement road.

A cold pang of guilt curled in his stomach as he swallowed.

“Bub…” he started, clearing his throat gruffly. “I… didn’t want you to worry about me… y-… you know I’m always fine…”

Logan stumbled through his words, finding it tough to even wrestled them out of his throat.

He could see you thinking over his words, biting at your lip as you gaze turned disapprovingly towards the road. You obviously disagreed with him but kept your words to yourself as the drive continued on.

Eventually your car pulled into the driveway of your small home. Pulling the keys from the ignition, the engine putter to a stop as you climbed out of your car, slamming the door shut in a way Logan could tell was venting your anger.

Logan followed, standing quietly outside the car and staring up at your house just now realizing how much he’d missed all this. The familiarity of it all.

His keen senses picked up the scent of your home. A mixture of you and old wood. Logan shove his hands in his pockets and looked up at you with a strange combination of trepidation and anticipation.

“Come in, I’ll get you something warm to drink.” You offer quietly, fidgeting with your key ring to unlock the front door.

Logan followed you inside, his steel toed boots thumping against the hardwood floor. He took in the sight of the place, the walls and shelves filled with small trinkets and photos.

His gaze lingered on a photo of the two of you. It was an old photo, taken back in the early days of your relationship and something tore at his insides that night coming back vividly to him.

He cleared his throat and looked over at you, his face a mixture of emotions he couldn’t bother to hide at the moment.

“Still like the simple stuff huh?” Logan asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“I like that photo.” You respond simply with a shrug, moving to the kitchen to grab two mugs.

setting the kettle on the stove and filling it with water, you dig in a nearby pantry, pulling out two bags of camomile. Logan was touched you’d remebered it helped him sleep better at night.

“I’m renovating the guest room Lo’ so uh…” you paused nervously, leaning against the kitchen counter for better balance. “You could sleep on the couch or um… my bed if that’s okay with you… although if you remember the couch is uncomfortable at shit.”

Logan took in the slight anxious tremble of your voice and attempted a smile to ease your worries. “Are you kidding? I’ll never forget that couch and I have the back problems to prove it.”

You watched you silently for the moment before continuing quietly.

“I’ll take the bed.”

“Good choice.” You complimented with an awkward smile, grabbing the steaming kettle and filling both mugs. “Do you still like milk with yours?” You asked absentmindedly, digging around in the fridge of your kitchenette.

Logan nodded. “Yeah same way Bub.”

He leaned his back against the counter, his gaze still fixed on you. This domestic scene felt surreal- you preparing tea for him, the soft electric hum of the fridge, and the intimate simplicity of it all.

Memories of exact copies of this night came flooding back to him. Countless nights of late-night conversations and cups of tea.

Once finished, you pushed the perfectly steeped cup of tea towards Logan, his fingers brushing against yours before taking a sip and glancing at him from across the kitchen.

“I’m worried about you Lo’.” You admitted quietly, staring at him from over the rim of you cup.

Logan took a large swig of his drink, using it as an excuse to avoid looking at you for a moment. When he did, he met your eyes, the worry in your gaze mirroring his own.

“I know you are.” He grumbled, voice stoic. “But I can handle myself Bub.”

“If you can why call me at two am!?” You bite back, glancing at Logan as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.

Logan sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the mug in his hands. He knew you had a point. He knew he wouldn’t have called if everything was fine.

He took another sip of tea, the warm liquid soothing his gruff throat.

“It’s just… been a tough couple of weeks.” Logan admitted, voice suddenly quiet as his fingers traced the handle of his mug. “Just needed to hear your voice is all I guess…”

You glance at the tiled floor, thinking for a moment before speaking up.

“Why did you leave me Logan…” you asked quietly, forcing Logan to address the one question he didn’t want to consider.

The question hit Logan like a ton of bricks, the familiar shame and guild washing over him like a cold wave.

He looked away, jaw clenching as he struggled to find the words. He didn’t want to hurt you… didn’t want to bother you with all the issues that entailed loving a mutant. He didn’t- couldn’t hurt you.”

“It’s complicated.” He muttered, avoiding your gaze. “You’re better off without me, Bub.”

You frown at Logan, obviously taking offence to his words.

“Oh really?” You asked incredulously. “Am I better off tossing and turning every night worried that the next time I’d see you would be in a casket? Am I better off crying every night left wondering what I did wrong for you to leave me- to leave us?”

Tears began to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks, too preoccupied to brush them away.

Logan flinched slightly as your words struck deep. He could see the pain carved into your face and the tracks of tears caused by him.

He placed his practically finished mug of tea behind him, the soft thud of the porcelain echoing through the small kitchen. He took a moved, closing the distance between you two as he looked down at you with a mixture of sadness and regret.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispered, taking a deep breath and fighting the lump in his throat. “It’s me bub, im the problem.”

You refused to look at Logan, your eyes glued to the floor.

“I didn’t want you to leave…” you admitted quietly. “…I miss you.”

Logan let out a deep sigh, his heart feeling heavier than his weary shoulders and each syllable that escaped your mouth feeling like a swift dagger to his conscience.

His voice barely above a whisper, Logan answered. “I know you didn’t want me to leave. And I miss you too. More than you know.”

He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently, very gently touching your chin, turning you face towards him.

Logan’s heart ached as he saw the tears on your face, his calloused thumb trying gently to wipe them away, a slight tremble in his hand.

“Why are you crying over a knucklehead like me Bub?” He soothed, thumb tracing your jaw. “I’m not worth these tears.”

“I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you Logan.” You admitted solemnly, leaning into Logan’s touch. “And… and you left me in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye… I thought you’d gotten hurt… o-or worse…”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he saw you nuzzle into his calloused palm. The raw emotion in your voice slicing through all previous walls he’d constructed around his heart.

He closed his eyes for a moment of solace, his rough hand cradling your face.

“I’m sorry.” Logan said in a broken whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The words came out like a prayer, filled with longing, guilt, and a drive for forgiveness from the only person Logan ever thought really mattered.

A moment of silence passed, Logan’s apology sinking deep into the walls of the kitchen until you spoke up.

“Can you stay till next morning Lo’?” You asked, voice scratchy from crying and shouting. “I’ll make bacon the way you like it… all crunchy n’ shit…”

A small smile tugged at Logan’s lips despite the heaviness in his chest. The mental image of you cooking breakfast for him in the early hours of morning was more comforting than he’d care to admit.

“You remember the way I like it huh?” He askedC his heavy voice tinged with the slight hint of humor.

“Never forgot.” You replied, giving Logan a sad smile as you stepped away from his close proximity.

“Anyways… it… it’s been a long night we should get some rest…” you suggested, gesturing with you head to the bedroom down the hall, a place Logan was all too familiar with.

A wave of nostalgia hit Logan like a truck as he entered your bedroom. Memories of many sleepless nights filled with you in his arms were seared into his mind.

Hi eyes flicked around, taking in all the subtle changes since he’d last been here- the new pillows, the different floral bedsheets, but beneath it all it was still the same, it was still you, it was still home.

You sat on the edge of the bed, kicking off your slippers and removing your socks, tossing the clothes somewhere on to the other side of the room like you and Logan used to do every night before having fun.

Logan shrugged off his shirt, revealing his scarred tanned chest as he climbs underneath the sheets and duvet, settling in next to you, your back facing to him.

This routine was all too familiar to him.

Logan wanted to pull you closer, to hold you against him but he hesitated, not sure what your boundaries were at the moment. Logan yearned for your touch, even though he’d been the one to walk away.

“Can… can you hold me Logan…” you asked quietly, your voice resounding in the silent bedroom.

A wave of relief washed over Logan as he shifted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest, his nose burying into your hair inhaling the familiar scent of you.

“Yeah.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “I can hold you.”

Logan could feel the tension leaving your shoulders as you melted into his touch causing him to hold you closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your tummy.

He’d forgotten how much he missed this, the simple pleasure of having your back to his chest, your warmth in his embrace.

Logan nuzzled his face into your hair, breathing deeply. “God I missed this.” He murmured, voice filled with regret and relief.

The room was dead silent, all except for the quiet ticking of a nearby wall clock.

“Can’t you stay Logan?” You asked into the silence of the room, your voice barely above a whisper. “We can continue where we left off… I still have all your clothes in my closet.”

Logan’s heart clenched in his chest, his head and heart at war within himself. The temptation was strong, painfully so. But the guilt, the knowledge of what could befall you made him hesitate.

“It’s not that simple bub.” His voice rough as he muttered quietly into your ear. Logan’s hand, however, betrayed him as I gently caressed your hip, calloused thumb tracing patterns into your skin.

“Logan I’ll be good.” You pleaded quietly, leaning into his touch. “I won’t do anything to make you leave me again I promise.”

Your raw emotion sliced through any remaining restraint Logan had. He could feel the guilt and love for you wrestling for dominance in his chest.

“You were never the problem you understand that don’t you?” He said, voice low and deep. “It’s me- not you- always me.”

He exhaled sharply, fingers digging into your skin as he held you impossibly closer.

“You’re making it hard to resist Bub.”

Logan could feel all remaining defences crumbling as you turned in his grasp to face him, one of your hands cradling his jaw as he looked down at you.

“I love you Logan.” You whispered.

“I don’t deserve you.” He muttered, voice breaking. “Never did.”

“Say it back.” You pleaded, leaning your head on to his chest as sleep threatened to take you. “I need to hear it.”

Logan’s chest tightened at your request, knowing he could never deny you, could never hold back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you. Still. Always.” He said, burying his face in your hair once more.

You hummed in contentment at his answer, happy to finally hear what you’d be needing for months. Comforted by the closeness of Logan, your eyes fluttered close and before he knew it your breathing had evened out to a slow steady rhythm and you were fast asleep, nestled in Logan’s arms.

Logan stayed awake for a while longer, content to listen to your slow breathing and quiet heartbeat. He held you close, glad to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve your love after all he’d put you through. Your words ‘I love you’ echoing in his mind like a burden but also simultaneously a comfort.

But Logan couldn’t deny how good it felt to be back again, to have you in his arms again, and the sense of peace that washed over him you laid together.

He knew the sun would rise soon enough, and he knew that this time, he’d stay.

783 notes · View notes

lgcnathan · 2 months ago

Text

outside of music videos, nathan's never really formally acted before – so guesting on nova iuventa, despite all his years in this industry, is a first even for him. his scene, as described when briefed to him, is entertaining and simple enough, and is one where nathan's clearly more of a supporting role than one in the spotlight.

but he's not offended – in fact, he's flattered to still be included in a scene where he can stand out so much, especially in comparison to his male co-stars that are, well, actually actors like minkyu. at the other's statement, nathan flips to the aforementioned slap in the script, chuckling himself as he skims over the words.

"nice, man. i'll be sure to have some ice on standby for you in between takes," he teases. "i'm supposed to be a basketball player which is, ironically, the one sport i sucked at in school – which always pissed everyone off for some reason," he sarcastically remarks.

slapped.

Being back on Nova Iuventa almost feels like coming home. It was one of his very first projects after officially stepping into the acting world, and even now, it remains one of his personal favorites. There’s something about the cast and staff; a familiarity, an energy, that he can’t quite put into words but absolutely loves.

And even though this time he’s only here for a guest role, there’s a deep sense of honor in having been chosen without needing to audition. “Damn, did you see this?” He taps his script after skimming through it, then turns to @lgcnathan, fellow guest actor, a grin tugging at his lips.

“I’m getting slapped by a girl.” A laugh spills out, equal parts amused and delighted. Given the way his character is written, it’s not exactly surprising; if anything, it makes perfect sense. But that doesn’t make it any less entertaining.

“How about you?” He leans in a little, raising a brow. “Got any fun scenes?”

#lgcminkyu #lgc:novaiuventa #thread (tag)#001 (cho minkyu)#tysm for starting and sorry for replying so late tt

2 notes · View notes

stewpidcheescatarinabluu · 15 days ago

Note

I have been watching Haikyuu lately, so what about a Libero!Male Reader x Karina, and they both coincidentally have the nickname "cat". Much love authornim your stories are goated fr <3

The Cats 🐈‍⬛ 🐈

Synopsis: You’re The Cat—Chosun High’s unstoppable libero. But at a campus tournament, you spot her across the court: Karina Yu, Hanuel High’s own “Black Cat.” Same position. Same instincts. Same nickname. Camp brings you together, but goodbye leaves something unfinished.

Word Count: 2,804

Karina X Male!Reader

a/n: sorry for the delay anon TT, hope you enjoy this piece!. who’s your current favorite character in the series? mines Wakatoshi ^^

You were representing Chosun High, a name that already echoed through the gym long before you even stepped onto the court. Whispers in the stands, coaches murmuring behind clipboards, players from other schools subtly turning their heads to watch your warm-up.

You weren’t just good.

You were the libero.

The one who could read a play before it happened. The one whose shoes barely made noise, whose arms were always under the ball, whose gaze locked like a sniper. The one who made even the nastiest spikes look like lazy tosses.

That’s how you earned the moniker:

“The Cat.”

Fast reflexes. Killer reads.

Sharp movements.

Always landing on your feet.

“Who’s next on the bracket?” one girl asked, biting into her bag of honey butter chips, crumbs dusting her lap.

“Hiemen High vs… Chosun,” her friend replied, already seated, leaning forward with the intensity of someone about to watch a war.

“Chosun High? Wait—is that the school with that hot libero?”

“You mean The Cat?”

“That’s his moniker?” She grinned. “So cute.”

The gym lights buzzed.

The whistle blew.

The match began

First set?

Flawless.

You weren’t just defending. You were controlling the tempo of the game. Hiemen’s strongest spiker barely got a decent angle before you were there—sliding, diving, lifting the ball with a flick of your forearms like it was effortless.

The scoreboard ticked up in your favor, one digit at a time.

25–12.

The crowd had gone from curious to stunned.

“That libero’s no joke…” a student whispered, voice low with disbelief.

“The only time Hiemen scored was when he was out of rotation.”

“Fr? I didn’t even notice the ball hit the floor.”

Somewhere in the stands, an assistant coach scribbled “#7 – Y/N” in a notebook underlined three times

You were back in rotation.

Knees bent.

Eyes laser sharp.

Your body swayed with subtle rhythm, already processing the angles, the posture of the setter, the twitch of the spiker’s elbow.

You could see it all before it happened.

“Tsk. That number 7 again,” one of the Hiemen spikers muttered, sweat dripping down his chin like he’d been in a sauna.

“The libero? He’s a pain in the ass.”

And they were right.

You dove like your life depended on it.

Read feints like you’d choreographed them yourself.

Your fingers grazed the floor more than the ball ever did.

Fast.

Everywhere.

Untouchable

Then it happened—midway through the second set.

A sudden murmur.

Chairs scraped.

Eyes shifted.

Red uniforms entered the stadium.

Hanuel High’s Women’s Varsity Team.

Heads turned instinctively. Not just because they were good, but because everyone knew they were good. Their presence had weight, a gravity to it. The way they walked in, side by side, backs straight, as if they owned the court without even stepping on it.

And at the center of them…

Karina Yu.

Top 1 in the country.

Ace libero.

Unflinching stare, arms always crossed during warm-ups, someone who played like chess on speed—ten steps ahead and always calm.

Nickname?

“Black Cat.”

She shared your nickname.

She shared your instinct.

Your speed.

Your stillness before the storm.

A mirror image of you.

Or maybe you were her mirror.

She didn’t glance at the game. Not right away. But her teammates did.

Some started whispering.

Some pointed.

You finished the second set just like the first.

25–13.

2–0.

Another clean sweep.

No celebration. No fist bumps. Just a quiet walk off the court. You were used to winning by now.

“Hate to match with that. That Cat is terrifying…” someone muttered, still watching you towel off courtside.

“For real. But why’re we talking about her? She’s not even in the boys’ tournament.”

“Huh? The Cat’s not a girl—it’s him.” A student pointed.

“Y/N. Number 7 libero.”

“Wait… I thought The Cat was Karina from Hanuel High?”

“Really? Then I wanna see her match.”

“Let’s go to the other gym. I bet it’ll be a landslide too.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the stadium…

The lights were warmer here. Less crowded—for now.

Hanuel’s girls were stretching, tying their hair, checking shoe grips.

“Rinaa!” a voice called across the court.

She didn’t even flinch.

“Hmm?” Karina muttered, eyes closed as she pulled one leg over the other in a fluid stretch.

“There’s supposedly someone who shares your nickname.”

Karina opened one eye lazily.

“The libero, right? Y/N?”

“Oh—you already knew?” her teammate blinked.

Karina didn’t answer that.

She just gave a small nod, lips pressing into a firm line.

The whistle blew.

And then it was her turn.

First set:

A massacre.

25–11.

You’d think the opposing team had never practiced before. But they had.

They were just outplayed at every level.

Karina glided.

She didn’t scramble. She moved. Like wind. Like shadow. A phantom on the court.

Deflecting spikes with calm poise.

Reading rotations before the ball even crossed the net.

Shutting down attacks that should’ve landed clean.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t flash.

She simply commanded.

Another Cat on the court.

And just like yours

her match never let the ball touch the floor.

The tournament ended early for the day.

Both courts cleared, lights dimmed, and teams scattered to lockers or vending machines. You lingered in the hallway between the girls’ and boys’ gyms, scrolling through your phone, water bottle in hand, replaying your dives in your mind.

Then you heard it.

“Agh—!”

Something hit the floor with a slap. A soft thud followed. Then a groan.

You turned toward the vending machine area.

There she was.

Karina Yu.

Black Cat of Hanuel. The ghost on the court. The ice-eyed monster libero.

Sitting on the ground.

On her butt.

Bag splayed open.

Water bottle rolling away.

Anime-themed keychains glinting under the fluorescent lights.

Your brows raised.

She looked up.

And froze.

Her eyes met yours.

Sharp. Wide. Horrified.

You blinked.

Then tilted your head slightly.

“So… Black Cat trips too, huh?”

Karina scrambled to sit up straighter, pushing her round glasses up her nose. Wait. Glasses?

You didn’t even know she wore any.

“I—I was adjusting my shoelaces.”

“Mmhm.” You crouched down, nudging her runaway water bottle back toward her. “Your shoelaces made you slip on air?”

She glared at you. The same glare she used on spikers before shutting them down with a clean dig.

It was kind of cute in this lighting.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she muttered, shoving a dog-eared playbook full of notes and diagrams back into her bag.

You caught a glimpse—rotation breakdowns, libero shift schemes, opponent spike charts—written in perfect, tiny handwriting.

She was a nerd.

A full-blown, unashamed, volleyball nerd.

And she’d just fallen on her ass in front of you.

You smiled, trying not to let it stretch too wide.

“Didn’t expect you to carry a whole scouting manual.”

“It’s efficient,” she muttered, cheeks slightly pink. “You’d probably read it wrong anyway.”

“Is that trash talk from someone who can’t even stand up without help?”

She huffed.

You offered a hand.

She stared at it for a moment like you were trying to trick her. Then, reluctantly, she grabbed it. Her grip was strong—callused. Familiar.

You pulled her up.

She brushed her skirt off quickly, flustered but trying hard to hide it.

“You tell anyone about this,” she said, voice low, “and I’ll make sure you never receive another spike clean again.”

You chuckled.

“Relax. Your secret’s safe. I like my mythologies intact.”

“Mythologies?”

You gave a shrug.

“You. Me. The Cats. We’re legends now, remember?”

Karina blinked, then rolled her eyes.

But there was a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she turned away.

And for the first time—you saw it.

The quiet, clumsy, hyperfocused version of her that existed only when the crowds were gone.

The real Karina.

And damn—she was kind of adorable.

The announcement came a week later.

National Mixed Training Camp.

Top athletes from boys’ and girls’ divisions. Joint drills, cross-scrims, shared dorms.

It was meant to build chemistry for future co-ed exhibition teams.

You scanned the list, eyes skimming past names until—

Karina Yu. Hanuel High. Libero.

And one name below:

Y/N. Chosun High. Libero.

Same team.

The universe had jokes.

Day One of the camp was brutal.

Sun. Sweat.

No break between court drills and strength circuits. Even the coaches looked like they hated being there.

You’d just finished setting up cones for a footwork drill when you spotted her again.

Karina.

Same red jersey. Hair tied up in a messy half-bun. Round glasses in place. Bag still heavy with notes and playbooks. She was muttering to herself, arms crossed, eyes locked on a clipboard.

Still the Black Cat.

Still composed… until—

“Ah—!”

Her clipboard slipped. She bent to grab it, overcompensated, and knocked her water bottle over. Again.

You watched from a few feet away, arms crossed, amused.

“Should I start keeping a tally?”

She froze. Then slowly turned to look at you.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“You’re giving me too much material.”

You walked over, grabbed the bottle, handed it back with a smug look.

She squinted at you.

Then her glasses fogged.

Like—actually fogged.

“…You good?”

She groaned under her breath and tugged them off quickly, wiping the lenses with the hem of her shirt.

“They always do this. I hate it.”

“Wait. You actually need those?”

She looked up at you, eyes a little less sharp now, lashes fluttering.

“You thought they were fake?”

“Well…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I thought they were part of the Black Cat aesthetic.”

She made a strangled sound between a laugh and a scoff.

“Yeah. Nothing screams intimidation like foggy lenses and tripping over your own clipboard.”

“…You really are a nerd.”

She smacked your arm lightly with the clipboard.

“And you’re still cocky.”

The coach blew a whistle.

“Cats! You’re paired for dig/cover drills! Let’s go!”

You both paused.

“Cats?” you echoed, raising a brow.

“Cats? really?” Karina muttered, face in her hands.

“Guess they’re hoping we purr together.”

She shot you the coldest glare imaginable—but the blush on her cheeks ruined the effect.

The drill started.

Ball after ball, spike after spike.

And something weird happened.

You didn’t compete.

You flowed.

Karina moved to cover your gaps before you even called. You dove for receives while she reset in perfect sync. It was like the universe aligned just right.

Two cats.

One rhythm.

After a particularly nasty back-row spike, she lunged to save it, and you pivoted, knees grazing floorboards, sending it back over in a clean, low pass.

Point.

Everyone clapped.

“You two look like one person,” someone muttered.

Karina turned to you, cheeks flushed but eyes sparkling.

“…That felt kinda insane.”

You grinned, breathing hard.

“Wanna admit we’re the same species now?”

She rolled her eyes.

But this time?

She didn’t deny it

Camp had structure—morning drills, afternoon scrims, evening film.

But the best parts? They happened in the in-betweens. The spaces where coaches weren’t watching, where shoes were off, where walls came down and little truths slipped out like stray sets.

That’s where Karina became something else.

Still precise. Still cold when she wanted to be.

But also…

Kinda weird.

Kinda clumsy.

Kinda cute.

It started with the choco milk.

You caught her behind the gym after lunch, straw in mouth, eyes darting like she was drinking something illegal.

“Thought Black Cats only drank protein shakes.”

She jumped like she’d been caught mid-crime.

“It’s for brain recovery,” she muttered.

“For volleyball?”

“For my Haikyuu rewatch.”

That got a laugh out of you. One she clearly didn’t expect.

“I’ve got a tablet with better speakers. If you’re serious.”

She blinked.

Then again.

Then: “You’d… lend me that?”

“Only because you read that cross-spike yesterday before I did.”

She sipped her milk like she wasn’t smiling into the straw.

Later that afternoon, everyone was sprawled on the court, sweat sticking jerseys to backs, legs too tired to move. You nudged her with your knee, both of you catching your breath on the cool hardwood.

“Alright,” you whispered, smirking. “Who’s the camp ace?”

She didn’t even look at you.

“Define ace.”

“Someone we’d both hate to face in a match.”

She shrugged.

“…You, probably.”

You stopped mid-sip.

“Wait—what?”

She threw her towel over her face like she hadn’t just casually dropped that.

“Shut up. You’re annoying. You’re everywhere. I hate it.”

You couldn’t stop grinning for the rest of the break.

The next night, you found her playbook on the bench.

Out of curiosity, you flipped through it.

It was intense. Obsessive. Pages of strategies, charts, court zones, team data.

But in the corners?

Doodles.

Tiny cats with round ears.

One wearing your jersey number.

One with glasses.

One… tripping over a volleyball.

“Why are you touching my things?”

You turned.

She looked pale. Like she’d just remembered she left her diary in a public park.

“This little cat looks just like me,” you teased, pointing at the messiest one drawn mid-dive.

“Give it—!”

“So I’m smug to you?”

“You are smug!”

You held it up just out of reach.

“I’ll trade you for one of those milk pouches in your bag.”

She looked like she’d rather die.

But she still reached into her bag.

On the fourth day, you sat beside her on the bus ride back to the dorms. She didn’t say a word, just pulled out her phone and her earbuds.

Paused.

Then offered you one.

No words, no side-eyes.

Just the soft beat of some lo-fi playlist she had queued up—something with dreamy guitars and mellow drums. And for twenty minutes, you said nothing. Just leaned into the lull of music and movement.

When the bus turned a sharp corner, her shoulder brushed yours. She tensed—but didn’t move away.

She didn’t take the earbud back either.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Neither could she, apparently.

You caught her at the vending machines. Glasses on, hoodie zipped up, digging through her coins like it was a matter of life and death.

“Midnight craving?”

She didn’t even flinch this time.

“My brain won’t shut up. I think I rewrote my entire serve-receive formation in my head just now.”

You passed her a pouch of strawberry milk before she even chose.

She took it without a word, opened it, then looked up at you.

Soft eyes. Less guarded.

“…We don’t talk like this when we’re not on the court.”

“We could.”

She blinked again. You were starting to love that delay—like her brain had to reboot every time you said something that touched the nerves under her armor.

She didn’t say yes.

But she didn’t say no.

By the time the last day of camp came, everyone had stopped calling you “The Cat” separately.

It was just “The Cats.”

Two sides of the same coin.

Two liberos, always where they needed to be.

But off the court?

It was different now.

You talked more. Sat beside each other during film. Shared snacks. Argued over which anime protagonist had the worst plot armor.

And when you got called for one last rotation drill—side by side—you didn’t need to speak.

She stood beside you, tugging down her sleeves.

“Ready, nerd?” you whispered.

She shot you a look.

But her cheeks were already red.

“Only if you don’t trip over my clipboard again.”

The last whistle had blown, and the bags were packed. Camp was over.

The courts were empty now, the energy gone, replaced by echoing footsteps and the dull hum of vending machines that no one was raiding anymore. You stood at the bus terminal outside the dorm, duffel slung over your shoulder, team hoodie tugged up against the breeze.

Karina hadn’t come out yet.

Not that you were waiting.

…Okay, you were.

You scuffed your shoe on the concrete, watching other players board their rides back to cities and provinces, back to school gyms and wooden floors that felt colder now.

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say to her.

What this had all meant.

What those shared earbuds and stolen milk cartons added up to.

Then the door creaked open behind you.

Karina stepped out, glasses on, hair tied up sloppily—not camp-Black-Cat mode, just Karina. Real Karina. Hoodie too big, clipboard wedged between her arm and her ribs. She looked around once, then spotted you.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t frown.

Just walked straight over.

“Leaving early?” she asked, voice quieter than usual.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Bus leaves in five.”

She nodded, then stood beside you without another word.

The silence wasn’t awkward this time.

It was… heavy.

Like something unspoken was sitting between your sneakers, waiting for one of you to finally kick it forward.

You glanced at her, about to say something—

“Y/N.”

She said your name too softly. Like maybe she’d said it to herself a few times before this moment, testing it out.

You looked at her.

She reached into her hoodie pocket, then shoved something into your duffel’s side pouch

“Don’t open it until you get home.”

You blinked. “What is it?”

She shrugged, eyes avoiding yours now. “Just… something dumb.”

Your bus honked.

She stepped back, one hand holding her clipboard like a shield.

“Bye, Cat.”

You hesitated.

Then turned toward the bus, heart knocking hard against your ribs.

a/n: 150 likes, I’ll make an epilogue 🫶

#spotify #kpop #aespa #aespa x reader #aespa karina #karina #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina fluff #aespa lockscreens #Male Reader

136 notes · View notes