#oh and about the cafe: it still exists! it's just across the street

[luv4fushi]

HEYYY🦅

I really likes your megumi drabble. HE SO CUTE😭😭 i kinda wish you write more megumi 🩷

megumi fluff (?) and angst at your service! sorry it took FOREVER i had 478274 exams these past few weeks ughhh sorry & ily thx for the req ~~~

he likes me, he likes me not

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

all megumi fushiguro does is apologize when he rejects you. everything changes because of your confession.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, all characters aged up to 17-18!!!, misunderstandings, confessions, eventual relationship!, megumi is so bad at feelings, ooc megumi a little sorry, takes place at jujutsu tech high school and shibuya has NEVER happened so life is good, yuji and nobara are your besties

wc: 5.1k

click on my masterlist for more!

“i like you.”

for a moment, the world stills. everything comes to a halt.

megumi is sitting across from you at your favorite cafe, just down the street from tokyo jujutsu high, the school you’ve been attending for nearly two years now.

in that short amount of time, you’ve grown into a person you think the past you would’ve liked. you’re taller now, more fit and lean. you’ve got bounds of experience from your missions piled on your shoulders, the unwavering burden of being a jujutsu sorcerer making itself at home.

you’ve grown in other ways, too. you’re stronger now, you’ve got a good hold on your emotions. you haven’t seen your parents in months, but the sting doesn’t hurt anymore. you’re wiser. older. you’ve got a handle on your feelings.

then there’s megumi fushiguro.

oh, how enamored you’d been.

he’d spared no glance when he first met you. you had trudged into the classroom, eyes darting at the unfamiliar faces. gojo satoru, the undeniably handsome teacher of yours, introduced you brightly albeit the low energy of the room.

you had weaved your way into the jujutsu world, just as you had been able to slither your way into the lives of your newfound friends.

but megumi, oh, megumi fushiguro.

it had taken you laborious months to befriend the raven haired boy. his uninviting attitude hindered your relationship with him for some time, and you had half-heartedly decided to pursue something else, but your near death experience during a particularly difficult mission with him had sent him reeling. he had held onto you the entire time you cried for your mother.

you don’t talk about that day. he doesn’t mention it, either.

“what?” his eyes, dark blue, blink in surprise. his lips are parted slightly. “what did you say?”

your throat constricts. then, the words flow: “i’m in love with you.”

love. it’s too strong of a word. you’re not even quite sure what it means, or if what you feel is actually love.

the cafe begins to bustle with life again. the barista from behind the counter steams some milk—almond—and she glances up at a customer approaching. the music from the overhead speakers filters it’s way softly into your ears. it’s a cheesy love song, and you can’t help but feel like it isn’t the right time for that.

“are you serious?” he says, almost spitting out his drink.

“i mean,” you shrug, “yeah? i wouldn’t bring you all the way out here to fuck with you.”

he blinks again. his lashes flutter perfectly. it’s annoying how perfect he is. there’s a slight hue of pink to his cheeks, but not enough to confirm anything—just speculation.

“i’m sorry,” he begins, breathing it out all in one go. “i’m really sorry.”

if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d seen it coming from a mile away; megumi fushiguro is different. he’s got the composure of a brick wall. the perpetual frown on his face never, ever leaves, not even when he’s with you. he doesn’t crack, doesn’t shake. his soul is hardened from things that he’ll never speak of with you.

“it’s okay,” you say, but it’s not.

you’ve changed—grown into a person you’re proud of, but you’re still stuck sometimes. you’re still a pushover. still just a small shrimp in the vast ocean. still apologizing for your existence.

“i’m sorry,” megumi repeats.

you know he’s apologetic, that he really means it, just from the way his brows furrow slightly. you know him too well for your own good. you don’t think he can say the same about you.

“it’s fine.” your voice breaks. you duck your head in embarrassment. rejection has never hurt you this badly. “you don’t have to apologize for not liking me back. it’s not your fault.”

you wonder why you’re comforting him when he’s the one who has ripped your heart out completely.

“i’m gonna head back,” he mumbles out, hesitating to reach out and dab away your tears with the napkin he’s been wringing around his thin fingers. “you… should come, too.”

you shake your head. “i think i’m gonna finish my coffee.”

he offers a smile. “you can finish mine as well, if you’d like.”

“nah,” you say, scrunching your nose through watery eyes, “black coffee isn’t really my thing.”

“yeah.” his laugh is soft, almost forced, but you can tell it’s genuine. “i know.”

oh, you think. it really hurts.

he knows.

something inside you snaps. your lungs feel itchy. your ribs squeeze. you think that it would’ve been easier to never say anything at all.

megumi leaves the store. the jingle of the bell above the frame rings through the air. you’re left with your cold cup of coffee and megumi’s cup across from you.

the barista gives you a look of pity. you chug down your drink and chug his, too.

it’s bitter.

-☆

megumi arrives to his dorm exactly five minutes after four pm. he slips off his sweater and changes into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. his mind is blank, except for the image of your teary eyes.

he swallows nervously. maybe he’ll sleep it off.

“yo, megumi.” yuji slams himself against the door impatiently. “how’d it go?”

megumi sighs, the irritation swiftly making its way into his fatigued body. he opens the door and yuji tumbles in without an invitation.

“what are you talking about?” megumi mutters with another sigh.

“the confession,” yuji says matter-of-factly.

megumi stares. “you knew?”

yuji’s smile slowly removes itself from his lips. “…yeah? it was pretty obvious.”

“what was obvious?”

“that she likes you…?” yuji tilts his head. “and you like her back, right? so i figured you guys would be all cuddled up in here.”

megumi doesn’t say anything. the gears in yuji’s head begin to turn as he looks around the room, noticing the comfy attire megumi has on.

“you said that you liked her back… right?” he raises an eyebrow. “because it’s not a secret that you do.”

“i left.”

“you left her there?!”

“i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you said ‘yes, i’d like to be your boyfriend’ and then dipped out on her?”

“i didn’t say yes.”

yuji pauses. he looks at megumi, then at the made bed, then back at megumi.

“for fuck’s sake,” he groans, running his hands through his pink hair. “i’m gonna go.”

megumi stands there, appalled. the door is shut harshly and the hinges squeak. he’ll have to scold yuji about that later. for now, he wants to take a nap.

maybe he’ll feel better about everything when he wakes up.

-☆

on the other side of the building reserved for dorms, yuji crosses his way into the girls’ section. it still feels wrong no matter how many times he’s made this trip before.

he meets you on the way there. you’re dragging your feet, headphones strapped on your head, and lips quivering.

“hey,” he calls out, tapping your shoulder. “you okay?”

he waits until you hang the silver headphones on your neck. they���re megumi’s, he realizes as he sees the fading stickers on the metal plate.

“hm?”

“you okay?” he asks again. his eyes scan you for any signs of distress, and he can practically see it radiating off of you.

“yeah,” you hum, “i’m cool.”

“want me to grab nobara?” he suggests with a grin.

“sure,” you say.

the sun feels hot on your back. you hate the way the school is so widespread for having such a small population.

“i can grab some ice cream,” yuji rambles. “and i’ll get us a notebook so we can write shitty things about megumi.”

you pat him on his back, but his sturdy body almost sends you flying backwards. he catches your wrist just before you fall, and he’s laughing at your expression with glee.

“you’re so funny,” he says through his fit of laughter. “you’ve gotten scrawnier. you needa eat more! i’ll get us snacks, too.”

you pout. “shut up, yuji. not everyone can be as buff as you and todo.”

“oh, todo is a whole different story.”

“tell me about it,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes. “i’ve seen him beat you up into a pulp.”

“hey! in my defense,” yuji says, his hands coming up to the sides of his ears, “i couldn’t do much against him!”

you’re nearing nobara’s dorm, which is right across from your own. you like how homey hers is compared to yours. she’s got a knack for interior design, or so she claims.

she swings the door open the moment you reach the inside of the building. you’re halfway down the hall when she sticks her head out from the frame of her room. her black roots are showing more than usual.

“how was it?” she asks once you’re close enough so that she can whisper.

you want to tell her that there’s no point in keeping it a secret. you had told yuji about your feelings far before you even mentioned to her, mainly because yuji had been your first friend at jujutsu high. megumi isn’t here, either, so there’s no reason to whisper when everyone knows.

“bad,” is all you reply with.

her eyes soften a considerable amount, an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. she takes a small breath and pulls you into her room by your arm.

you’re met with her fragrances, vanilla and strawberry—a nobara kugisaki signature scent. she had begged gojo to buy her shelves to place her k-pop albums on and sure enough, the white furniture stands proud at the far corner of the room. there are fake vines hanging from her ceiling right above her desk, where she has an organizer messily places over a few books.

“you wanna dye your hair?” she jokes, looking back at you. “my roots are coming in so we might as well dye yours while we touch up mine.”

“is orange all you have?” yuji’s nose twitches. “i don’t think she’d look good in orange.”

“gee, thanks,” you sarcastically respond.

“sorry.”

nobara clicks her tongue. “wanna unpack?”

“kinda,” you say, your body going limp once you’re at the foot of her bed. you sprawl yourself on the silky sheets and stare up at the ceiling.

“get out, yuji,” nobara demands. she doesn’t even acknowledge his downturned lips.

“i know everything already!” he whines. he shuts the door behind him with much more care than he had with megumi’s.

“still!” she insists. “i wanna have a girls’ talk.”

“i’m one of the girls.” he crosses his arms.

nobara’s shoulders sag. “fine, but you need to go buy ice cream.”

“was planning on that already,” yuji replies. he taps quickly at his phone, presumably asking gojo for his credit card.

when yuji leaves the room, he promises that he’ll get your favorite flavor. once nobara senses that his presence is completely gone, she turns to look at you.

“i’m sorry for making you confess,” she whispers. her tone is comforting, genuine, soft. she takes you into her arms and squeezes your shoulders. “i really thought he liked you back.”

“it’s not your fault,” you reply earnestly. “i chose to do it out of my own selfish feelings.”

“you can cry,” she says, patting your head. at times like this, nobara seems years wiser than you are. her touch is warm.

you bite your lower lip. “don’t wanna. i think i’ll be fine.”

“okay,” she says, and you feel her chest vibrate with the word. “you’re allowed to cry, though. megumi would’ve been a shitty boyfriend, anyway.”

all you can do is let out a watery laugh. you don’t tell her that he would’ve been an amazing lover. he would’ve taken you out on dates at your favorite places because he’s observant like that. he would’ve known your favorite foods, though he knows them even as friends. he would’ve kissed you tenderly because that’s the type of boy he is. he’s the type to love carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll lose someone forever if he doesn’t.

“i’m up for dyeing your hair,” nobara pipes up after the silence that penetrates the room. “yuji’s right, though… i don’t think orange would suit you… ha.”

you giggle. “let’s just touch up yours, yeah?”

yuji’s footsteps can be heard from outside the door when you’re a third of the way done with nobara’s roots. she complains about how long he’d taken, but there’s no real malice in her voice. he explains that he had ran into trouble obtaining gojo’s card (“i had to beg him for it!”).

the ice cream is all melted. it’s gooey and delicious and makes you smile. as you look around your friends, your crinkled eyes say more words than you ever could.

“you’re welcome,” yuji says into your ear. “you don’t have to thank us for any of this.”

-☆

the next morning comes by quicker than you want it to. you mentally prepare yourself for seeing megumi in class at eight in the morning. you haven’t made a mistake as bad as confessing your dying, unrequited love on a wednesday afternoon quite like this before.

nobara had suggested walking with you the night before, but you’d sternly told her that you could handle it. looking back, maybe you should’ve agreed with her offer.

megumi isn’t in class when you come in. he’s usually there at least five minutes before gojo starts teaching. something inside you tells you it’s because of yesterday—as much as you hate to admit it.

he walks in through the sliding doors a few minutes late, but gojo pays him no attention. megumi has privileges like that—at least, with gojo. he’s practically your teacher’s son, and though you’ve never heard of the full story, you’re well aware of gojo’s slight favoritism.

the class is short. all jujutsu sorcery classes are. they mainly consist of typical real school lessons, only because under the law, jujutsu tech is still a high school. the other, much bigger portion of class with gojo is focused on maintaining cursed energy and providing yourself with the best possible victory in battle.

when it’s over, you don’t know if you should be relieved or upset. you won’t be able to see megumi after this, assuming that he’ll avoid you for a good month or two. however, you think you’d rather die than attempt to make conversation with him.

“don’t do anything stupid,” gojo warns, signaling the end of class.

you hear yuji snicker quietly and say, “yeah, nobara.”

the bickering brings a smile to your lips. from the corner of your eye, megumi shifts in his seat.

you decide that it’s best to let the feelings marinate, as stupid as it sounds. it’s an infinitely better choice than moping around and begging megumi for a chance. you may be soft, but you’ve got pride.

“see you guys,” you announce, more to yourself than to anyone.

“alright,” yuji calls after you, “see you later.”

you can’t help but feel a little disappointed with the lack of clinging when it comes to you. your absence doesn’t seem to cause a ruckus like it does for most people. you wonder if it had been yuji retiring early; would everyone else ask him to stay a minute longer?

that’s how life is for a while.

you attend class, spar a little, and sleep. some days you go out into the city with nobara. you avoid the cafe, even though it’s your favorite. perhaps it’s because you’re still embarrassed by megumi’s rejection. on other, slower days, gojo takes you all on outings because he’s basically everyone’s replacement father.

it’s still as tense as ever between you and megumi.

the boy doesn’t make any effort to reach out. you don’t blame him, though you should. he steals small glances at you, particularly when you’re smiling and forget to cover your teeth with your hands. that’s all he takes from you, and he can’t be the only guilty one, because that’s all you give.

on this day, gojo takes you all out to the fair. it’s annual, taking place in the beginning of summer, and it’s a great way to practice forming barriers and such. the fairs always bring out a few nasty curses that need to be exorcised—the four of you are already used to being dragged out here for that sole purpose.

as if gojo knows, he sends you out in pairs. of course, you’re paired with megumi fushiguro. at first, you open your mouth to reject gojo’s demand, but you notice the way megumi doesn’t seem to care and your resolve hardens.

“it’s really awkward around you guys.” gojo pretends to act busy, flicking something from his nails. he’s got his sunglasses on and the ladies around him fawn.

“huh?” you and megumi look at him with accusing glares.

“is something going on between the two of you?”

“no,” you say almost entirely too quickly.

“right,” he drawls, a smirk forming on his face. “anyway, good luck out there. get rid of the little ones and then—i don’t know/-meet up with yuji and nobara if there are gross ones that’ll kill you.”

megumi nods. “okay.”

“this was what i was talking about,” gojo mutters as he walks off. “it’s soooo awkward…”

megumi gives you an apologetic look. “for the record, i don’t think it’s awkward.”

“it’s fine,” you say. you find that you’ve been pardoning him quite a lot. “you don’t have to lie.”

his face flushes. “i’m not.”

“i confessed to you and you don’t like me back, so there’s really no need to tiptoe around it anymore,” you rush out. “just treat me like normal. i don’t really care.”

he looks hurt, and you want to laugh.

you discover that, in those days of being alone, you’d rather megumi treat you like a friend again than be completely ignored. at least then, you’d have a part of him. at least then, he’s not slipping through the cracks of your heart, becoming a distant memory.

you want him to be anything but a memory.

“you want me to treat you like normal…?” he repeats your words. he paces himself just a few steps behind you when you begin to walk away from the conversation. “what does that mean?”

“i think you know what being friends is like,” you attempt to joke, but it comes out harsher than intended.

the fair is getting more crowded by the second. the shopkeepers are yelling out cheap deals and there are children that snake in and out of the lines of people. paper lanterns are hung at the front of tents to attract foreigners—it seems to be working because there are more people surrounding shops with lanterns than without.

megumi takes a breath. “how could i do that?”

your steps falter. “what do you mean?”

“how can i go on to treat you like normal,” he says softly, “when i know you’re in love with me?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and taste blood. “i don’t know. you’ve done it before without knowing my feelings. you can do it all over again, right?”

you look over your shoulder to see his lips part. he’s given up on the cool-guy persona. his vulnerability begins to show through the dents in his personality.

“you’re saying that you’ve liked me for that long?”

“yeah,” you admit. something about this is more freeing than you could’ve imagine. “i think i always have.”

a man shoves himself into you. he’s older with a beer belly and a scruffy beard attached to his face. he barks at you to move out of the way as he drags his young daughter through the sea of people. megumi’s warm hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you aside and closer to his toned chest.

you do your best to ignore your beating heart.

“i’m not,” megumi starts shakily, “lovable. i don’t know why you like me.”

your body goes cold. it's even worse than when he'd rejected you.

“curse,” you say, detaching his hand from your body. “i feel it around the back alley.”

the night ends. nothing is solved. you go to bed and curl into yourself.

-☆

loving megumi is weird. there’s an odd sense of comfort to it, like you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he makes you feel safe even though he's gruff and a little mean about it. maybe that's just part of his charm, though, because it makes you love him even more.

he seems to have taken your words seriously; he starts to treat you like normal again. he doesn't avoid you anymore, and the obvious tension surrounding you two has disappeared for now. he lets you take a few of his sweaters when you forget to do your laundry and he buys you your favorite snacks sometimes.

it gets to be too much. you almost wish he'd go back to ignoring you. the grass is always greener on the other side.

summer goes by slowly. it's the prime time for bad feelings to manifest into curses. you push away your lingering feelings, convincing yourself that you've gotten over it. it's been more than enough time now, coming up on two months since you've confessed. you don't want your resentment, if you can call it that, to form any bad curses—you'd hate for them to be attached to megumi. that'd be a burden too hard to carry.

a few missions involve partnering up with megumi. gojo thinks you two work well together; there's a sort of synergy that you have with each other that is hard to come by sorcerers nowadays. you don't mind the compliments, or at least you pretend you don't.

the missions aren't difficult, but maybe that's because you've grown stronger. megumi has, too.

summer passes. it still hurts.

"you're confusing me," you whisper.

you and megumi are shopping for a surprise birthday party that gojo is forcing you guys to throw for nanami kento, a good coworker of his. you've met him more than once, and you're not really sure if he'd appreciate such a last minute party. regardless, you and megumi are tasked with finding enough balloons to fill the poor man's office.

megumi doesn't allow you to hold any of the bags. he lies and tells you that it's out of habit—nobara makes him carry her shopping bags every time they go out—but you know he's doing it just because he wants to. you're perfectly strong enough to carry a few paper bags, and he doesn't carry nobara's bags like he claims he does. megumi doesn't even go shopping with her unless yuji's there and even then, yuji holds the bags.

"sorry?"

"why are you doing this?" you refuse to look at him.

"doing what?"

"this," you say, gesturing at the two of you. "why do you act like we're close enough to do this?"

you cringe at yourself, aware of how hypocritical you're being. you had wanted this, wanted him to go back to being a friend, to treat you like he had before you went and ruined everything. why are you angry? why do your eyes well up with tears as he steps closer to you?

"we aren't close?" he asks. his arms fall to his side.

passerbys give you curious glances. he takes off his sweater, the one he always wears depsite it being humid out, and wraps it around you. the paper bags filled with confetti and paper plates are set down by your feet. he pulls the hood over your head to hide your wet eyes.

"we are," you mumble out sorely, "but not like this."

"i'm sorry," he says, and you're brought all the way back to the day you had told him about just how much you liked him.

"'s not your fault." you sound like you're trying to convince yourself and not him. "i'm being an asshole. you can forget about this."

you don't want him to feel guilty. he can't help how he feels, after all. you don't want him forcing himself to love you.

"what you said that day," he coughs out. the bags crinkle as he lifts them from the pavement. he continues, "what did you mean by 'always'?"

you squeeze your eyes shut and he pauses next to you. you can feel his soft gaze on you and you're glad you can hide behind his sweater, the cloth draping over you like an oversized blanket.

"i don't know..." you tilt your head up to look at him. he looks like the boy you think you'll always love. "i think i was doomed from the start."

"doomed?" he says, a little amused. "loving me is dooming? how sweet of you."

you need to remind yourself that he's not playing with your heart; this is how he copes—and how you cope, too. he must know you better than you had thought.

you nearly scoff. "it's because you're you. you're so good at being you that it hurts."

megumi slows. you hadn’t even noticed that he'd been guiding you down the sidewalk the entire time until now.

"i think it applies to me, too," he say quietly.

"what?"

"'always' applies to me, too." the clarification does nothing to settle your nerves.

"i don't understand," you blurt.

he gives you a look, as if to say, "really?", but he keeps talking, "i think i'm used to this feeling because it's always been there."

"what feeling?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off when i first met you. you're really stupid, you know?"

your face morphs into an irritated expression. "thanks. you're pretty great yourself."

he laughs and it sounds like music to your ears. "i wasn't finished, dummy."

"sorry."

"you're pretty... a lot more than you think you are," he admits shyly, "and i guess that annoyed me because i kept feeling all weird around you. i got used to it, i think—that weird feeling. but it's always been here. it never left."

you stumble, tripping over your feet at megumi's statment. you don't want to interpret it the wrong way, but with how he's looking at you, you can't help but maybe think that he likes you too.

"this isn't how i wanted to tell you, but," he breathes in sharply, "i don't like it when you cry."

it's awkward. perhaps a little funny, if you really look at it, but it's megumi and you can't hate him. you'll never find it in yourself to truly hate him.

nanami's surprise birthday party isn't much of a surprise. though gojo nor nanami say it, you all know yuji is a favorite of theirs, and no one is surprised when yuji says that he had accidentally revealed the party a few hours prior.

gojo has fun. even shoko, who never shows up to any of these events because of her busy schedule as a doctor, seems to enjoy herself. nanami pretends like he's not entertained, but he has on a fond smile that looks weirdly similar to the way megumi smiles. you're all old enough to party now, as gojo puts it, so it's a little less like a classroom celebration and more like a familial one.

it's the third of july, nearly two months and a half after your confession, when megumi hints that he feels the same way about you.

you don't know what to make of it.

-☆

"i like you."

you're in the middle of getting ready to go out with nobara and her favorite upperclassman, maki, when megumi tells you he likes you back. your eyes widen and the mascara you've just finished putting on smears on your lid.

megumi hands you a makeup wipe as if he's done it a million times before. (he hasn't, but he just knows.)

"w-what?" you stutter out, your breath catching in your throat.

"it took me a while to figure that out," he says.

he's flat on your bed, covering his face with his arm. his t-shirt rises with each of his nervous movements. according to the rules set by gojo, he shouldn't even be here in your dorm. he shouldn't be on your bed and listening to your playlist through your shitty speaker gifted to you by yuji.

"are you joking around?"

"what?" he sits up and turns to you, frowning. "why would you think that?"

"is this you pitying me?"

"i just," he sighs, frustrated, "i needed to tell you before i chickened out. i meant what i said the other day, you know?"

"about you getting 'used to' the strange feeling?"

he nods and then slouches back against your pillows. if it had been any other day, you would've felt shy about sleeping in his scent.

"yeah," he says, running his slender fingers through his jet black hair. "i really did mean it. i think i just—i don't know—pushed you away because i was afraid."

you've given up on applying your makeup by now. your hands are shaking too much, anyway.

"i'm scared sometimes, too," you reply, catching his eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

you see the side of his lips turn upwards. he looks as handsome as ever. he's gotten older since the first time you met him, and it hits you harder now that he's on your bed, his features sharp and his body lanky and tall. there's a sort of intimacy that you sense between the two of you.

"i'm not afraid anymore." his legs swing over the bedframe and he easily reaches the ground even though your bed is raised. "i'll be brave for the both of us."

oh.

"what do you think?" he tilts his head.

you stay home that night.

-☆

"so are you guys dating now?" yuji exclaims.

you both freeze.

"fuck off," megumi says instead of answering the question.

"god," yuji huffs out. "finally! all those peptalks and you don't even tell me that you got the girl?"

megumi blushes from beside you. neither of you had expected yuji to be awake to witness you two watching the sunrise on the hill beside the school.

"you know," yuji grumbles, "it took a lot of convincing to have you realize that you've been in love this entire time, megumi. the least you could've done was tell me."

megumi ignores him and snuggles further into you.

"why are you up so early?" you ask, shuffling underneath the blanket that is covering you and your boyfriend.

"instinct." yuji's shoulders drop, defeated. "'k, i'm gonna leave you guys to be romantic and shit up here. have fun explaining this to nobara later."

nobara almost wrings your neck out when she catches megumi holding your hand that saturday morning. she tells him that he needs to make up for the months he left you feeling sad. he says he's already forgiven, and he's not wrong (because you're weak when it comes to him, just like he's weak when it comes to you).

you think that you would've chose to love him no matter the outcome. loving him is easy like that.

a/n: oh my god. this was a word dump and not proofread. i am so sorry this took forever to come out but i ended up changing the plot like a billion times cus it wasn't good enough.. LOL. hope u enjoyed this!!! thx for making me write more megumi because i love writing him (he's been my fave character since the anime came out three years ago hehehe). ngl it was kinda rushed bc i wanted to get this out but i think it turned out fine!!!! ok thx once again ily muah xx

[theaawalker]

The Time Travelers ⌚ [Marty Mcfly x Y/N]

Pairing: Marty McFly x Fem!Y/N Song Inspo: Marty McFly by Luke Christopher Word Count: 1,728 Summary: You, Marty, and Doc Brown formed a formidable team. You were always by Marty's side, assisting with Doc's eccentric experiments. Unbeknownst to you, Marty shared your feelings but hadn't yet found the right moment to express them. He had planned to ask you out after Doc's latest experiment, but things took a dangerous turn when adversaries of Doc attacked, forcing you both to flee for your lives. Warnings: sexual harassment, some violence (non-graphic) Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

"Marty! They're catching up!"

"I know, (Y/N)! Damn it, I know!"

Marty pressed harder on the gas pedal, accelerating rapidly. "Marty, wait! 88 miles per hour—" Too late. The next moment, you crashed into a barn.

You groaned and checked yourself for injuries, noticing Marty struggling with a hazmat helmet.

"I'll be quick," he mumbled through the mask. You waited anxiously until Marty returned to the car, gunfire echoing in the distance.

"What's happening?!" you shouted. "Hold on!" he replied, speeding away again with shots trailing behind you.

[ TIME SKIP AKA TIME TRAVEL ]

Marty drove to your neighborhood, but something was off. The area hadn't been developed yet.

"What should we do?" You asked nervously.

"I don't kn—Wait. Doc! We need to find Doc! It's his machine, he must know what's going on!"

"Marty," you interrupted.

"Come on, (Y/N)! We have to locate his place and—"

"Marty!"

"What?!"

You sighed deeply. "How about you take a moment to calm down. Clearly, we're not at home. Let's think this through. My 'uncle' Lou is at the café. Well, he's not really my uncle. Whatever. Let's check if we can use the phone there. We'll call Doc and see what he suggests. Sound good?"

Marty's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Okay. Let's head to the cafe." He held out his hand to you, and you took it with a shy smile. Since you couldn't drive, you began walking together.

[ TIME SKIP ]

"What the heck?" Marty muttered under his breath. You shared his disbelief. This was surreal. It looked like... the 1950s.

"Marty...?"

He nervously ran his hand through his hair and scanned the town until his eyes fell on a trash can. He rushed over, picking up a newspaper. His eyes widened as he read, mumbling something you couldn't quite catch.

"What? What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, nerves and excitement mingling in your tone.

"1955, (Y/N)! We're—We're in 1955... Doc's machine worked."

Your mind raced as you tried to comprehend the enormity of the situation. "Oh my God. I—I haven't even been born yet! Well... that might not be such a bad thing."

"Ouch." Marty furrowed his brows at your self-deprecation.

"No, no, no. I meant for the space-time continuum. Two of us existing in the same time period. That's be catastrophic." Marty blinked at you, clearly speechless and impressed. "What? I listen to Doc."

The two of you chuckled a bit, cut short as the memory of Doc being murdered returning. Doc was dead, or he would be... in 1985. Meanwhile, the two of you were stuck in 1955.

Marty's expression shifted to a mix of determination and concern. "Come on. We've still gotta use that phone."

With that, Marty grabbed your hand and hurried across the quiet street towards Lou's Cafe, the familiar setting from countless retellings of his adventures. As you stepped inside, the nostalgic atmosphere enveloped you—the checkerboard floor, the red vinyl booths, and the jukebox playing tunes of an era long gone.

"Did you kids jump ship or something?" the man behind the counter asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

"Sorry?" you replied, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected question.

"Well, what's with the life preserver?" he continued, gesturing towards Marty with a quizzical expression.

You glanced at Marty, realization dawning upon you. "Oh," you chuckled softly, "I just... he likes his vests."

"I just—uh... I need to use your phone," Marty stammered, eager to distract from any further questions about his unconventional attire.

"Sure. Right over there," the man said, pointing to a booth in the back of the cafe.

Before Marty left, he turned to you with a hint of urgency in his eyes. "Stay here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. "I swear, Marty, if it's the last thing I do, I'll get us home. I'll get you home," you added, trying to muster the courage you knew he needed.

Marty returned your smile gratefully before rushing towards the booth, leaving you to take a seat at the counter. You settled onto the stool, trying to blend in with the patrons who seemed oblivious to the temporal chaos unfolding around them.

A familiar figure caught your eye—a young man sitting just a seat away, devouring a sundae with gusto. "Hey, ice cream sounds pretty good," you mused to yourself, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

"Um, could I have a sundae?" you asked Lou, the man behind the counter, your voice wavering slightly with nerves.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Lou replied warmly, reaching under the counter to retrieve a bowl and prepare your order.

Meanwhile, Marty trudged back from the phone booth, a sheet of phone book paper clutched tightly in his hand. "Hey, do you know where—" he began, only to be interrupted by the sudden swing of the cafe's front doors.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced towards Marty for confirmation. "Marty. I—Is that...?"

"Biff," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched with apprehension.

The cafe seemed to freeze in time as a familiar, imposing figure entered—the swaggering bully, Biff Tannen. Minions behind him, his presence filled the room with a palpable tension, drawing the gaze of everyone present, including yours and Marty's.

"Hey, McFly! McFly, I'm talkin' to you!" Biff bellowed, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

The young man at the counter turned around, and it hit you like a lightning bolt. It was George McFly, Marty's father, a timid and awkward figure caught in Biff's shadow.

"Oh. Hi, Biff," George stammered, his voice barely audible over the din of the café.

Marty's expression mirrored your own shock as you watched the scene unfold before you, the pieces of the past falling into place with eerie precision.

"That's George McFly," Marty whispered to you, his voice tinged with disbelief. "My dad." You nodded silently, your eyes locked on George's vulnerable form as Biff continued his relentless taunting. "M-My dad was a total wimp," Marty muttered, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Poor guy," you whispered sympathetically, unable to tear your gaze away from the heartbreaking sight.

"Hello! McFly! Anybody home?" Biff mocked, knocking on George's head with a cruel smirk.

"I see Biff's always been an asshole," you murmured to Marty, your voice tinged with anger and empathy as you witnessed the brutal bullying unfold before your eyes. Marty remained transfixed, his expression a mix of sorrow and frustration as he watched his father endure Biff's torment.

"What're you lookin' at, butthead?!" Biff sneered, closing in on Marty with malicious intent.

Enough was enough. You couldn't stand idly by while Biff continued his reign of terror, especially not aimed at Marty.

"Hey! Why don't you back the hell off, asshole!" You snapped, your voice ringing out in defiance.

Biff's gaze snapped towards you, his expression shifting from rage to something altogether more unsettling—a predatory glint in his eyes. He licked his lips slowly, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he moved towards you, his towering frame blocking your escape.

Fear gripped your heart, but you stood your ground, refusing to let Biff intimidate you any further. Marty got up to fight but Biff's gang held him back.

"Don't you touch her, you sick son of a bitch!" Marty yelled.

"Oh shut up, dip-stick. A pretty girl like this ain't gonna like a squirt like you. She needs a real man." Biff turned his attention back to you. "Ain't that right, doll face?" He smirked.

"That's actually insulting." You spat. "I'd rather lick the mud off my shoe then be anywhere NEAR you!" The fucking nerve this guy had. You tried to push him away, escape from his grasp, anything. But his grip on you was iron.

"You better watch your mouth! Just you wait, honey. You're gonna be beggin' for a taste of me." He said, sending sickly chills down your spine. "Stop it! Leave me alone!" You protested as you squirmed with all your might. That must've set something off inside of Marty because he lost it and let loose on Biff's gang. Fists were flying and bodies were falling. Biff's head whipped to witness, loosening his grip, and you took the opportunity. The next fist you saw was yours meeting Biff's jaw and knocking him on his ass.

Before you could breath again, Marty grabbed your hand and RAN. He ran until the two of you were safe in a little shop Biff would never look. As soon as he was sure you were safe, he began checking you for any harm.

"Are you okay? Of course you aren't. I'm so sorry, (Y/N). Damn it. That just made me so mad to see him touch you like that. No one should be so damn disrespectful and- and touch you like that! I swear, (Y/N)."

"Marty."

"When I see him again I'll- I'll... I'll beat the shit out of him!"

"Marty!"

"(Y/N)! He's a total ass! He deserves to-"

You cut him off by grabbing his face and crashing your lips to his. He was a bit surprised at first but quickly returned the kiss. He rested his hands on your hips and carefully pulled you closer.

By the time you pulled apart, you were both flushed in the face. You leaned closer and nuzzled your foreheads sweetly, running your fingers through his soft hair.

"W-What was that for?" Marty stuttered.

You pursed your lips as you gently ran your fingers through his soft hair again. You wanted to confess, tell him you liked him, Like, really liked him. You started it a stutter, a huge smile spreading across his face. You could sense he knew what you were going to say...

Until you heard someone clear their throat.

It was the store owner. She stood there with her hands on her hips and a small smirk on her face. Both yours and Marty's faces were red with embarrassment.

"S-Sorry, ma'am." You stuttered.

"Yeah. Sorry." Marty seconded.

With that, you two quickly shuffled out of the shop, holding hands, and running down the block. Meanwhile, the store owner watched from the shop window, a growing smile on her face.

"What weird kids. Sweet, but weird."

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[tenma-udai]

perfect (for you) - gabstar - Haikyuu!! [Archive of Our Own]

bokuaka coffee shop AU/meet-cute !!

Bokuto has never really been much of a coffee person. It’s too bitter, the smell is overpowering, and the caffeine is bad for his nerves. But he’s always appreciated the coffee shop right across the street from his gym. He thinks the snuggling owls engraved onto the spacious window panels are adorable, and the way the shop seems to glow from within when he passes by it in the early mornings feels homey and comfortable. The little cardboard cups that the patrons carry out are intricately decorated in spirals of white, black, and gold. It’s not even a conscious thing really, but for some reason, he always finds himself admiring the cozy little cafe as he passes it by going to and from the gym. Something about the atmosphere, the happy-looking patrons, the way the architecture makes it look more like a bookstore than a coffee shop just leaves Bokuto helplessly charmed by it. 

He never would have gone inside under ordinary circumstances. But one Saturday a monsoon rolls in right as he’s just wrapped up his morning workout. The downpour leaves the gutters overgorged, and rivers rippling down the streets. Damn. Bokuto might still have braved jogging home, but he just dropped a good chunk of change on his super-cool new workout shoes and the thought of getting all that squashy new foam soaked depresses him. He doesn’t want to hang out at the gym all day, either. And then he remembers the cafe. Right across the road. 

The storm has gotten so bad that he’s still fairly soaked, even after only a brisk jog across the street. He opens the door and the heavy scent of coffee hits him. Ugh. Bokuto wrinkles his nose, but he supposes it’s what he’ll have to tolerate for somewhere warm and dry to wait it all out. There are round little tables scattered around the room and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Huh? Is this also a bookstore? No wonder Bokuto had thought it looked so library-esque from the outside! Bokuto gapes at it all as he shakes the rainwater out of his hair and wipes the excess droplets off his jacket. He looks up and— 

Bokuto’s soul is punched out right of his body. Like he’s just been hit over the head with a ton of bricks. He freezes; his eyes go wide and round as dinner plates. Time seems to come to a standstill.

The most gorgeous man Bokuto has ever seen in his life is standing behind the counter. He isn’t looking at Bokuto. He seems entirely transfixed on his task, wiping down white ceramic mugs with beautiful hands. Gorgeous hands, even. Bokuto didn’t know beautiful hands were a thing, but he cannot deny the evidence so plainly in front of him. Long slender fingers, his delicate tendons flexing enticingly, the graceful, purposeful way they move. And then there’s the rest of him: inky black curls framing soft porcelain skin, a sweet mouth pursed into a concentrated frown, thick brows that draw the eye to his piercing gaze, and the longest eyelashes Bokuto has ever seen. Bokuto didn’t think this kind of beauty existed outside of movies and magazines, but here it is right here before him. It’s all Bokuto can do to stop. And stare. And gape. 

Bokuto has no earthly idea how long he stands there. The concept of time is entirely lost on him. The strikingly gorgeous man sets down his mug and startles at the sight of him. 

“Oh!” he says, and wow, even his voice is beautiful. Tenor, melodic, and soft. Bokuto’s heart is doing backflips in his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.” 

He folds his towel neatly before stepping toward the cash register. Cute . The gorgeous man blinks up at Bokuto expectantly. 

“What can I get you today?” he asks.

Bokuto snaps his mouth closed. A shiver ripples up his whole body. He’s speaking to him. 

“Um!” Bokuto squeaks and oh god he’s squeaking. “Hi!” 

Hi? There’s an actual angel standing right in front of him and all Bokuto can think of to say is hi? Goddammit, what the hell is wrong with him? The cashier blinks like Bokuto has surprised him, but then his expression softens into a warm smile. 

“Hello,” he returns, sweet and shy. 

That’s it. Bokuto is done for. He’s found him, this is his future husband right here. Bokuto is certain of it. Bokuto glances down at the name tag pinned to the strap of his cute little apron: Akaashi. Akaashi. Nice to meet you, Akaashi. Bokuto can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him. He’s going to wake up every morning drinking the sight of his beautiful face; he’ll hear the sweet tenor of his voice saying hello over and over again. Bokuto’s belly is alive with electric butterflies, skittering through his skin and shooting sparks through his fingertips. His grin is too big and undoubtedly dopey-looking. 

“Um,” Akaashi says. There’s a faint flush to his cheeks. “Did you need something?” 

Huh? Oh fuck! Bokuto shakes himself, trying to snap out of it. 

“Coffee!” Bokuto blurts out. “I— I came to get coffee!” 

Akaashi has a strange little smile tugging on his lips. He peeks up at Bokuto through the thick line of his lashes. 

“Well, I would certainly hope that’s what you came for,” he says, in a low voice. 

Wow. Look at him. He’s so perfect. Bokuto is so glad he’s decided to marry him. He fidgets with the strap of his gym bag, nervously shuffling his feet. 

“I— I’ve never been here before,” he admits. He forces himself to look away from Akaashi with great effort, gaze darting up to the black chalkboard menu hanging above their heads. “I— um.”

God, there are so many words written up there. Bokuto is not an excellent reader to begin with and the handwriting isn’t exactly excellent. He squints, mouthing along as he tries to decipher it. 

“Better hurry up,” Akaashi says, voice rich with amusement. He folds his arms over the POS system and rests his chin atop his wrists. “I have quite the line.” 

Bokuto jolts. He whips his head around but the place is entirely empty. Line? What line? Akaashi makes a strangled sound. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, bashfully. He slinks off of the POS system and looks away. “I was— I was just kidding. I think the storm has driven everyone else off.” 

Bokuto swivels back around to stare at him. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. And then promptly bursts into laughter. His duffle bag scrapes the floor as he doubles over. 

“You’re funny, Akashi!” he cries. 

Akaashi clears his throat. “It’s Akaashi.” 

Shit. Bokuto better get this right; it’s going to be his last name someday after all. He furrows his brow and puffs out his chest as he concentrates. 

“Ah-kaa-shee,” he says, drawing out each syllable. 

Akaashi smiles sweetly. “Very good.” 

Bokuto’s belly flutters with his praise. Akaashi looks down, lips pursing strangely and fiddling with his fingers. A nervous habit? Bokuto wonders. That doesn’t seem right. Surely Akaashi is too gorgeous to ever be nervous about anything. Bokuto is certain he has everyone fawning over him, catering to his every whim, and bending over backwards to catch the barest hint of his smile. That’s the only rational reaction to such a serene, untouchable beauty like Akaashi. He should never have a reason to be nervous. Bokuto wishes he could reach across the counter and soothe his fidgeting hands. 

“Did you need recommendations?” Akaashi prods. 

Fuck, right coffee! Bokuto doesn’t know the first thing about ordering coffee. What does Kuroo get when he orders? Bokuto is drawing a blank. 

“I… yes!” he manages. “I want… I want whatever you think is best!” 

Akaashi’s eyes glitter with interest. The corner of his mouth twitches upward like he’s fighting back a smile. 

“Whatever I think is best, hm?” Akaashi repeats, something warm and syrupy laced in his tone. “That’s quite a lot of power you’ve just given me.”

“I trust you!” Bokuto says, clasping his hands into fists and pumping them. “You’re the coffee expert!” 

How does Akaashi’s face get prettier when he flushes? When Bokuto blushes he becomes an unattractive beet-red. Akaashi, however, is somehow soft and delicate with color flooding his cheeks. Like rose petals or champagne. Akaashi moves over to the coffee machine, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Can I get a name for the order?” Akaashi asks. 

“Oh!” Bokuto jumps. “I’m Bokuto! Bokuto Koutarou!” 

Akaashi smiles and Bokuto’s heart leaps in his chest. If Bokuto didn’t know any better he’d think the troublesome organ was trying to escape his ribcage and fling itself at Akaashi directly.  

“Okay, Bokuto-san,” he says. “I’ll make you my favorite.” 

His favorite . Bokuto has to know what it is. What sort of partner doesn’t know their husband’s coffee order? Bokuto drops his duffle bag over on the table closest to the countertop and then hurries back to watch Akaashi work. Akaashi glances over at him, his flush deepening. 

“Wh-what brings you out in this weather, Bokuto-san?” he asks. 

Stammering? Is Akaashi actually the shy type? But he’d been so bold with his teasing earlier! What an enigma. Bokuto wants to know every single thing about him. He wants to crack open Akaashi’s brain and explore every nook and cranny. And then delve into his heart and wedge himself in there somehow while he’s at it. 

“I work at the gym across the street!” Bokuto exclaims. “I— I didn’t wanna jog home in the weather.” 

Akaashi hums like he understands. He flips on a switch and steam billows out of the fancy espresso machine. 

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before then,” he says.

“I've always been meaning to stop by! I love coffee!” Lying, lying, he’s such a liar, what is he doing?! “The owls on the front outside are so cute!” 

Well at least that last one is true. Akaashi’s smile makes the dubious morality of his falsehoods seem insignificant. 

“Me too,” he admits, almost sounding bashful. “Both coffee and the owls.”

“Really?” Bokuto says, breathlessly. 

Akaashi clears his throat. The tips of his ears are pink.

“Yeah. They’re cute,” he says. He flashes him a soft smile. 

You’re cute , Bokuto opens his mouth to say it, but wait, is that coming on too strong? These kinds of things should be handled with care, shouldn’t they? Fuck, Bokuto should have listened more when Kuroo was bragging about his ‘rizz.’ It suddenly feels like he’s been thrust into a test he hadn’t bothered to study for. 

“They’re super cute,” Bokuto agrees, eager to please him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay what else can he say? Say something charming, clever even. Something that’s sure to impress him. “They’re statistically the cutest animal.” 

Akaashi makes a soft sound of surprise. It takes Bokuto a second to realize it had been a laugh. Akaashi shoots him a grin, eyebrows tilted up like he can’t quite believe it. 

“Statistically?” he repeats, amusement evident in his tone. 

“It’s a fact,” Bokuto continues. He holds up one finger as he speaks. “One, they have big eyes, which everyone knows makes animals cute. Two, they’re fluffy and soft, which is very cute. Third—” 

“Those… aren’t statistics. Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupts, squinting his eyes at him skeptically. Bokuto’s heart pounds. His mouth is dry as sandpaper in the blink of an eye. 

“They aren’t?” Bokuto asks.  

Akaashi’s mouth twists in amusement. 

“I think you have the word confused,” Akaashi explains, gently. He stirs cream into the coffee with elegant flicks of his wrist. “Statistics require gathering data and taking practical measurements. I’m afraid that something as subjective as ‘cuteness’ would be extremely difficult to take any statistics on.” 

Bokuto blinks three times. He gasps suddenly. 

“And you’re smart too?!” he cries, clutching at the silvery spikes of his hair. He shakes his head, disbelieving “Oh wow! Wow, Akaashi! You’re—"

Bokuto struggles to find the right thing to say. It ends up being the only thing that’s been on his mind since he first set eyes on him. 

“You’re perfect!” Bokuto blurts out. 

Akaashi rocks back on his heels like Bokuto physically struck him. He makes some kind of noise— not unlike a repressed squeal— and his mouth squirms into an uncomfortable line. He looks away, tucking his face into his elbow, the back of his neck flushing a deep red. 

“I— I wouldn’t—” he struggles. He clears his throat and braces himself on the counter. “No one is perfect, Bokuto-san.” 

So cute. So earnest and so effortlessly charming. He’s doing a terrible job of convincing Bokuto that he isn’t perfect right about now. Bokuto laughs. 

“How can you say that?!” Bokuto cries. “You’re funny, you’re smart! And you’re beautiful too! You’re like the perfect guy!” 

Akaashi pushes his glasses up his nose, shooting him a stern look. 

“Is that all it takes to be the perfect guy, Bokuto-san?” he asks, dryly. Bokuto puffs out his cheeks in defiance, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Well it’s a pretty good start!” he protests. 

Akaashi’s breath hitches. He chokes. He covers his mouth with his hand, and his body heaves. It takes Bokuto a few seconds to realize it but he’s— he’s laughing! Bokuto is alive with glorious triumph. He’s definitely doing something right if he’s managed to make Akaashi laugh like this. Full-bellied and breathless, pink with his giggling. Akaashi looks back up at him and clears his throat, trying to compose himself as he smooths down his apron nervously. 

“I…” he says, still breathing hard. “I suppose you have a point there.” 

Bokuto preens. 

“I’m pretty smart too, huh?” he boasts. 

Akaashi looks amused for some reason. His eyes are sapphire blue, Bokuto realizes then, as they dance with delight. Wow. Bokuto really has hit the jackpot. Akaashi scans Bokuto’s body quickly and turns back to his work. He sprays whipped cream on top of the coffee and peppers chocolatey powder on top. 

“You’re also very funny,” Akaashi says, in a low voice. He then places the white mug on a little white dish and hands it to him. Their fingers brush as Bokuto takes it and tingles race up his spine at the contact. Akaashi swallows, looking at the floor shyly. 

“And… and the third thing too,” Akaashi says, giving him another once over. 

Bokuto takes eight full seconds to process what he’s just said. Partially because he’s still reeling from their fingers touching, but mostly because Akaashi looks so hopeful, so expectant and just so beautiful that it knocks the wind out of Bokuto entirely. He wonders what colors Akaashi would like for their wedding. Bokuto has always been partial to gold and pale pink personally. Bokuto thinks a spring ceremony would be best. Akaashi would look so lovely with cherry blossoms swirling around him, maybe a few catching in his inky curls. And then it would be like every year the earth was celebrating their anniversary with them. He’s going to have to ask for his ring size. Is Akaashi’s family the traditional type? He’d better ask. Also, what is Akaashi’s given name? He can’t very well call him ‘Akaashi’ if they’re both about to be Akaashis soon enough here. Bokuto stands there, dazed and still holding the mug of coffee, smiling like an idiot. 

“Okay,” Akaashi says, a strangely wheezy quality to his voice. “Well. I’m sorry. I thought—” 

Sorry? Everything Akaashi’s just said hits him like a sharp slap to the face. Bokuto gasps and the coffee drops out of his hands, smashing to pieces on the floor. Akaashi jumps. 

“You’re! You just! Beautiful! The third thing is beautiful!” Bokuto shouts. He jumps from foot to foot in his excitement, clutching his face. “Oh! Oh wow! Really? Me?”

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi cries. “Stop! There’s broken glass!” 

“We’re perfect!” Bokuto cries, only half-listening. “Oh my god— Akaashi! You and me! We’re perfect!” 

“Please don’t hurt yourself!” Akaashi is shouting. “Stay still!” 

Bokuto freezes with great difficulty, hands still raised and shoulders crowded to his ears. But he has to obey. Wasn’t one of the marriage vows something about obedience? Bokuto frowns as he struggles to remember. He can’t help wiggling his shoulders in a little happy dance as Akaashi drags over a trash can and a mop. 

“Akaashi, let me help you with that,” Bokuto insists. 

Akaashi gives him a withering look. 

“I can’t very well let a customer clean up,” Akaashi says. 

“But it’s my fault!” Bokuto protests, stooping down to help him pick up glass pieces very carefully. Akaashi sighs. 

“Please don’t cut yourself,” Akaashi says, but allows Bokuto to help him. They pick up the shattered ceramic piece by piece with careful hands. Akaashi’s long, elegant fingers seem like they were born for the task and Bokuto can’t help but admire it. 

“Sorry for making a mess,” Bokuto says, softly. 

Akaashi hums. His mouth twitches. 

“Well,” he says. “I suppose no one is perfect after all.” 

Bokuto jolts in surprise. And then promptly laughs. 

“Akaaaaashi!” he cries. “Are you teasing me?” 

Akaashi looks up at him, grinning mischievously, and for a brief moment Bokuto sees it all. Everything flashes through his mind’s eye in less than a second: their fingers brushing in the popcorn bowl during their movie date, Akaashi carrying around a giant plushie Bokuto wins for him at the carnival, splitting one milkshake with two straws, a road trip to the beach where Akaashi wears a floppy sun-hat as they watch the sunset, Akaashi in a tux with dreamy look on his face as flower-petals swirl in the air around him. They’ll buy a house, Bokuto is thinking two kids--maybe more if Akaashi thinks they can handle it-- and lastly he sees Akaashi’s face, wrinkled with smile lines and soft with age, but still just so beautiful. Because this is it. This is him. 

“I might be,” Akaashi admits. “Is that okay?” 

Delight bubbles inside Bokuto, too pure and potent to contain. It comes bursting out of Bokuto in all-too happy giggles. 

“Tell you what,” Bokuto says. “Go out with me, and you can tease me all you want.” 

Akaashi’s lips spread into a slow, sweet grin. And Bokuto knows it’s the perfect way to start their forever. 

[sweet-child-of-night]

Not sure if you are a fan of scifi but i have a prompt that relates to that : You're an immortal. She is a time traveller. Every now and then, you two pop into each other lives.

I watched mostly, since i would always forget the beginning and there would be no end, there was little else to do, living felt like playing a pawn in chess, just one step at a time however for a pawn like me death was uncertain. I had no effect and all my actions led to no consequences, anything i built faded away, anyone i met gone, it all seemed inconsequential. I have watched an endless ocean of humanity but none of them memorable.

Except for her.

There was always a "her." A woman who seemed to exist at the crossroads of history. I'd seen her in the shadow of the pyramids, amidst the chaotic streets of the French Revolution, even brushing shoulders with Einstein just before his groundbreaking discovery. Each encounter felt brief and tense, a missed connection in the grand tapestry of time.

The last time we met, it wasn't pleasant. else. She tried to kill me, I couldn't die. Let's just say the cobblestone streets of 18th-century Paris ran red that day. But death, for me, was more of an inconvenience than a threat. So, I decided to disappear, hoping it would appease her.

Now, here she was again. Sitting across from me at a quaint Parisian cafe, a stark contrast to our last encounter. Two shots of espresso, just like before, but her blonde hair seemed duller this time, and her usually bright eyes held a flicker of worry.

"So," I began, the clinking of spoons against porcelain the only sound, "what exactly are you?"

“I could ask you the same. No matter when I am, you look almost exactly how you did before."

“Well what can i say? I have a seven step skin care routine” i say “but seriously, are you like me?”

”what do you mean like you?” She reached for my espresso, taking a generous swig before I could protest.

"Immortal, I suppose. Are you the same?"

The smile vanished, replaced by a grimace. "Not quite. I am an associate of temporal continuum task force, we mend inconsistencies in time."

Intrigue pricked at my jaded soul. "So like a plumber?”

She sighed, snatching my napkin and wiping a speck of coffee from her lip. "Well, we mend tears in time, historical injuries that threaten the flow of things. Consider us like time doctors”

"It's not exactly fixing things," she continued, her voice catching. "We can't rewrite history. But we can nudge it, prevent catastrophes that would unravel the fabric of time."

A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips. "Uh huh. Figures why you're always lurking around during pivotal moments."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! You remember me?"

"Hard to forget the face of the assassin who tried to snuff me out," I replied with a wry laugh. The memory still sent a phantom tingle up my spine, but time had dulled the sharp edge of betrayal.

"Ugh, about that," she mumbled, cheeks flushing a charming shade of crimson as she averted her gaze. "Knowing what you know now, maybe it's a little more understandable?"

I waved a dismissive hand. "No worries, love. Water under the bridge. Besides," I leaned back, a chuckle rumbling in my chest, "18th century France wasn't exactly a picnic. French or you, someone was probably going to send me to meet the business end of a guillotine."

A tense silence stretched between us, thick with the unspoken weight of our past encounters. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, piecing together the fragments of our bizarre, time-hopping connection. We both nursed lukewarm coffee, the steam curling skyward like unspoken thoughts.

Finally, unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I broke the silence. "So, spill it. Something big's brewing today, isn't it?"

“Yeah there is a tear nearby, I must mend it in time or we lose billions of lives to this monstrosity” she scoffed, a glint of disgust in her eyes.

The weight of her words settled on me like a leaden cloak. She wasn't just an observer; she was a guardian angel. "Sounds...pretty cool…not the tear but your dedication to saving lives" I managed, the words feeling pathetically inadequate next to the weight of her mission.

A genuine smile, tinged with sadness, broke through her worry. "Yeah, it can be. It's what keeps me going."

Suddenly, her watch beeped, a harsh sound severing the fragile connection.

"Damn," she muttered, downing the rest of my espresso in one go. "I have to go. There's a tear in a few hours, and..."

without even realising, i extended my hand holding hers. It was delicate and tender "Let's talk about something else," I blurted, desperate to hold onto this unexpected moment of connection. "Anything but this mission."

She paused, surprised. "You sure? You have questions, right?"

"Yes, but they can wait? You look…burdened."

She didn’t say a word but sat down in front of me again, looking into her eyes made me feel the same way when i had my first bite of that frozen desert.

“Where are you from” i asked in a gentle whisper

"The end of time…”

"Lonely, isn't it?" I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “carrying this weight of an entire universe on her shoulders.”

“It's sorta lonely, I'll admit. We know nothing more is going to happen, ever. Almost takes the fun away from living. But! I get to experience so many different time periods. I get to meet new people, see new things, explore SO many different worlds, so it makes up for it…”

"Sometimes," she continued,"when I have the free time, I like to go out to a nice little spot, a couple of millennia ahead of here and a couple of galaxies away, to this beautiful little ocean planet. There's so many wonders there; I never get tired of looking at it."

She smiled at me, probably happy that she had an equal to talk to in one of these time periods.

"I hope I get to see it one day," I said with a wink.

A small beep interrupted us again, She looked down at her wrist, noting the time.

"I must leave. It'll be soon, and I need to be in position."

I wasn't finished. I wanted to talk more.

"You gonna come around some more? Maybe come by for a chat when you have the free time?"

"Yeah...I'll save your coordinates.”

Her fingers danced across a sleek, metallic device strapped to her wrist, a flurry of light swirling around it for a moment. Locking eyes with me,

"Didn't think about it, but you must get lonely too," she admitted, her voice softer than the whisper of forgotten stars. "Living through all these centuries...makes sense why you'd want someone who gets it."

She waved goodbye, and that was the last I saw of her.

————————

That was...the last I saw of her. Ever. I get the feeling something bad happened that day. It was huge. All over the news. Something about a bunch of bombs...cleared out about 30 city blocks. It's -- I can't get it off my mind. I've had eons to think about this. Literal eons. I watched the world end. I watched the galaxy end. I witnessed the eventual heat death of the universe, and here I am, and I still can't stop thinking about it.

The man across from me drilled his eyes into mine, his gaze as sharp as a shard of obsidian. He continued typing entire detail about in his device

"It checks out, that's for sure. You've..." The guy laughs. "You've really come a long way. I just can't wrap my head around why this woman would stick in your mind for so long."

I don't know either. There's something nagging at me, some bit of the puzzle I need to make sense of. Something she said.

"Look, she said -- she said that you guys were like time engineers or something."

The guy corrects me “time doctors”. He's heard this before. He knows.

"And you guys are supposed to help patch up time. She's been doing a lot of patching. If my memory holds, she's been doing a lot of patching. And I've been doing a lot of living."

I think I know.

"Maybe it's my turn. Maybe there's an injury in time that I'm supposed to heal.

The guy nods at me. He sees sense.

"Well just so you know she left on that exact same mission you talked about maybe two hours ago. I mean she might even be trying to kill you as we speak but i can put you down on her coordinates at...” he flicked some switches on his device which is wrapped around his wrist “well mister i hope you are wrong about it”

I hope I'm wrong too. In case I'm not, then I can do more this time. I know more now.

And if I fail?

I think I won't mind seeing another few eons to have another crack at it…..

[peenyas]

┊ The Bough Keeper

My thing for him came back so suddenly, i want to kiss him.. i miss him so much, whens the next dainsleif archon quest hangout. Ughhh its 12 pm goodnight dainsleif

✦ *˖ ° . ﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍

Content: GN!reader, angst/hurt(but still a bit of comfort, uty. Will be tagged [☆]), forbidden love trope(talks about his immortality), pretty fluff in the start

✦ *˖ ° . ﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍

.

.

Theres just something about you, everywhere he goes you're coincidentally there. Or maybe he's going to places he knew you'd go just to be able to bump into you, just to have an excuse to see you more often. Because to him, you're different, but what is it?

It wasn't clear to dainsleif till he caught you in his thoughts. Almost every day you will be in one of the topics that has ever gone across his head, "... They would've liked these flowers right?" "These colours would suit them a lot.." "could this skill impress them?". One question after another, it's slowly getting more obvious to the khaenri'ahn, he likes you.

[☆]

To this new set of feelings that grows every waking second in his life, it kinda concerned him. For his situation how could he ever give you such a burden, or to himself too. Dainsleif is immortal, and you, a mere human, who's bound to leave him. As scared as he is, he has started to avoid you, including all the places you went to. Just to keep the both of you from getting hurt.

Though that didn't last long, even if he did try his best to avoid you and the places you were fond of, he finds himself back there again. How could he ever go so long without seeing you? At least to know if you're ok, it ached in his heart how he hasn't heard your voice in such a long time.

Back to the street you two first met, and to his luck you were there, sitting at an outside cafe table. Oh how he could thank the gods who cursed him right then and there, for he's finally able to see you again. The countless nights yearning for your laughter, your gaze and your smile, that all greeted him as he approached you. It felt like the curse in him never existed at all, a warm feeling that overwhelmed both his cheeks and chest as he sat down with you.

It's all made true to him now, you're really different to him. He couldn't just let this feeling go so easily, the least dainsleif could do is to embrace and accept it. You've become something he wouldn't want to lose, at least in this moment's lifetime.

[kingofthetaho6960]

At My Worst

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF TERMINAL ILLNESS AND SLIGHT IMPLICATIONS OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

I need somebody who can love me at my worst No, I’m not perfect, but I hope you see my worth

================================================

There were many things you weren’t certain of, but if there was a single claim you could make without a shadow of a doubt, it was that Hwang Eunbi was your other half. When the perilous waves of life became too much for you to handle, Eunbi was your moon, regulating the ebb and flow of the tides. 

At your lowest and worst point, Eunbi was there for you, a memory you had engraved deeply into your mind and heart. When your world felt as if it was caving in, Eunbi stuck by your side and assured you that everything would be okay–she became your world. 

You knew you weren’t perfect and Eunbi wasn’t either, but it was because of this understanding that you two were able to fill in the blanks that no one else could. You couldn’t imagine living a life without her, often joking that if you never met you might’ve just ceased to exist.

Hwang Eunbi was your other half and because of her…you were loved. ================================================

One more drink. A part of you knew that drinking out with your friends was a horrible idea, especially since your girlfriend–now ex-girlfriend–had just broken up with you a day prior. You knew drinking on negative feelings was a terrible coping mechanism, but you felt that nothing else could help numb the earth-shattering heartache you were experiencing.

You stumble as you try your best to navigate your way home, sloppily shambling across the dimly lit sidewalks. Suddenly, the world starts spinning as you trip over an empty beer bottle, sending you through the air and nearly faceplanting into a nearby lamppost. 

The ground seems to swallow you whole as shadows begin to creep into your vision, dyeing your world an inky black. Though your body trembles in the cold, you welcome the sensation as it fights away the empty void that had been gnawing at your very core. 

You’re content to just lay here, but a part of you wishes that the ground would really devour you. Or maybe an oncoming car would somehow lose control and veer into you. You let out a deep sigh, the world around you eerily silent save for your labored breathing and the clacking of shoes.

Shoes?

Your ears perk up as you remain face down on the ground. The streets had been completely empty and should still be as it was an ungodly time. You knew you left the club at around 2 AM so it had to be about 3 now. So, who on Earth was still up in your neighborhood? You turn your face to the side and look up as the footsteps come to a stop beside you. 

You stare blankly at her when all of a sudden your pent-up emotions burst forth. Your eyes quickly well up with tears as you choke with sobs, struggling to get words out.

“She-she really cheated on me, Eunbi…what did I do wrong?” You wail into the ground, turning away to hide your pathetic expression. 

Eunbi kneels down, softly patting your back. “You think rotting away on a sidewalk is going to make you feel any better? Get up now.”

You take a few moments to gather your bearings, clumsily dragging your arms across your face to wipe away the snot and tears. Eunbi gently takes your sadness-soaked arm and rests it across her shoulders, helping you to your feet.

“Th-thanks, Eunbi.” You slur your words, still incredibly tipsy as you attempt to walk with the legs of a newborn deer.

“Mhm.”

You were saved.

================================================

It was a day like any other day, but your heart was beating vigorously against your chest. Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you practically bounce in your seat, waiting for her to show up. Your eyes widen as Eunbi swings the door to the cafe open, your heart skipping a beat. 

Oh my god.

With every step she takes, your heart thumps louder and louder in your ears. Her long, wavy brown hair that falls just below her shoulders ripple softly with every step. Her bold and vibrant red, pouty lips add a pop of color to her subtle and natural makeup. The flowy, white blouse exposing her shoulders and denim mini skirt do little to assuage your buzzing nerves, only heightening the fluttering anticipation you feel in her confident presence.

With a trembling hand, you take a sip of your latte with extra whipped cream as Eunbi takes the seat across from you. You shakily place the mug back down as she takes a sip of her iced americano, her wide, round eyes focused on you.

“So…what’s up?” She asks nonchalantly, taking another sip of her coffee.

You take a deep breath, the plastic surrounding the bouquet crackling as your arm quivers uncontrollably. 

“Eu-Eunbi, we’ve known each other since middle school. I know we-but-you know-argh!” You grit your teeth as your nerves cause you to fumble your words. 

Your face flushes red with embarrassment, but Eunbi reaches across the table and rests her hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, man. I think I know what you’re trying to say.” She says, an assuring smile spreading across her face.

Was I seriously this obvious the entire time? How long has she known?

Countless questions race through your mind in worry. You pause, tilting your head in curiosity, waiting for her to continue. 

“You were going to congratulate me on opening the dance studio, right? I don’t know how you found out but thank you!” She gets up, enthusiastically hugging you over the table.

Your stomach drops at her misunderstanding, wondering if your plans were ruined. You use your free arm and wrap it around her, weakly patting her back. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decide to speak up or you might never get the chance again.

“While I did want to congratulate you, that’s not what I wanted to say. What I was saying-”

“Sh, you have something on your mouth,” She says as she pulls away, only to dart back in, flicking her tongue across your lips. “Whipped cream, hehe. And yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Your face burns crimson, and your mind is overloaded with even more questions. The butterflies in your stomach have turned into a jolly flock of birds, your heart threatening to burst from your chest as you smile from ear to ear. 

“But how did you know?” You finally manage to choke out, clenching the stems of the bouquet.

“You’re not exactly good at hiding things, dude. Plus, I saw those flowers you’re hiding through the window. You looked pretty funny rehearsing to yourself,” Eunbi explains, giggling at your cluelessness.

You had fallen for her.

================================================

The soothing, blue waves crashed softly against the shore, the gentle breeze a mother’s loving whisper. The setting sun dips lower into the horizon, splashing the sky with hues of amber, pink, and lavender. 

You and Eunbi walk hand-in-hand and side by side across the shoreline, your steps in sync, breaths harmonizing like the world’s most rehearsed orchestra. Your footsteps paint the ghost of a loving couple throughout the glowing beach–your prints embedded into the sand might be ephemeral but the moment would be an eternal flower within the garden of your memories.

Your leisurely stroll comes to an abrupt halt as the two of you stop at the exact same time, turning to face each other as if on cue. Again, you tilt your heads curiously at each other in unison before bursting out into laughter. 

“That was weird,” You smile as the laughter dies down. 

Eunbi swivels her head back to you, taking a deep breath. 

“Listen, stupid. I’m only doing this because you just can’t seem to take a hint,” she says as she kneels down, her jeans digging into the damp sand.

You gasp as she pulls out an intricate wooden box, eyes widening as she opens it to reveal a simple yet elegant ring. 

“Will you grow old with me?” She asks, nervous anticipation apparent in her eyes as she bites her lip.

Your mouth gapes open in shock before you scramble to reach into your back pocket, revealing your own ring.

“Eunbi, proposing is my job!” You plant your knee firmly into the sand, offering the ring to her. “But yes, I would love to get all wrinkly with you.”

For a moment, you two hold eye contact, in disbelief that you two would decide to propose at the exact same time. Then you burst into laughter, Eunbi basically tackling you into the sand. You two roll around like children, the air filled with specks of sand and your hysterics.

After a bit you two finally calm down, laying flat on your backs as you gaze into the sky. You subtly drag yourself next to her, pulling her in close. 

A signal exchanges through your eye contact and with no need for words, you inch closer to each other, your lips connecting into a tender kiss.

You were in love.

================================================

Your hands roughly beat against your head, ruffling your hair. The world as you know it was crashing down. Your mother who was bedridden in the hospital needed money for her bills, money you were already struggling to scrounge together. But your job had laid you off, saying your department was no longer needed thanks to their new implementation of AI. 

Banging your head against the desk, you curl up into a ball on the floor, wondering how everything could go so wrong. Your tormented cries and howls of despair keep you from noticing Eunbi as she creeps into the room.

She sits cross-legged on the floor next to you, gently pulling your upper body into her lap. You lifelessly allow her to drag you like a ragdoll, your mind preoccupied as you battle the demons threatening to take over.

“Baby, it’ll be alright. I still have the studio. If I take more choreography and modeling gigs, I’m sure we can stay afloat until you find another job,” She says, softly stroking your disheveled hair.

You slowly turn your head to look up at her angelic face, her eyes welling up with tears at your torn state. 

“That’s not the problem, Eunbi. I should be the one providing for you but look at me! I’m a fucking loser! I can’t even take care of the two most important people in my life–” Your rant is interrupted with a harsh slap across your cheek, the impact burning into your very soul.

“Sure, you’re a loser right now, but do you plan on staying like this forever? The one I know and love would die before he let the world kick him down. And who decided that you would be the sole provider? I’ve always been here for you, you can rely on me! We’re in this together, so do not–not even for a single second–try and shoulder everything on your own!” 

Eunbi’s chest heaves, tears streaming down her face as she admonishes you, You bite your lip, choking back a sob as your own eyes begin to blur, guilt and regret panging in your chest. Desperation drives you to sit up, throwing your arms around her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. 

“I’m so sorry, Eunbi. I’m so sorry,” You both cry into each other’s shoulders, bodies gently swaying back and forth, finding solace in the shared pain.

You were not alone. ================================================

“What the fuck do you mean there’s nothing you can do?” You growl, harshly yanking the doctor towards you by the collar.

“Babe, stop!” Eunbi yells from her spot in the hospital bed.

Your boiling anger instantly cools as your wife’s voice pierces through the haze. You shouldn’t rile her up while she’s in this state. Your wife was staying strong but here you were, losing your mind with every passing second.

You let go of the doctor’s coat, clearing your throat. The doctor sighs, roughly patting down the newly formed creases. 

“The tumor was discovered far too late. At this stage, all we can do is hope and pray for a miracle while we focus on making the time we have left as comfortable as possible,” his crisp words are those of a judge declaring a death sentence.

Your eyes well with tears threatening to pour out. You look up, hastily blinking them away, reaching your hand to squeeze Eunbi’s. She looks up at you, offering a weak smile. “Doc, can you give us a moment, please?” Eunbi asks.

The doctor nods, once again sighing deeply before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You stare blankly at the white blankets–everything in the room was white–you had grown sick of it. White had become a cruel sign of death to you. You had experienced it many times before with both of your parents and now, with the last light in your life flickering before you. 

At this moment, you have grown to hate yourself. Both of your parents passed from cancer, you should have been able to notice the signs in Eunbi far sooner. You had foolishly mistaken her mood swings, nausea, and bodily weakness as symptoms of overwork. You should have gotten her checked up the second she had her first migraine.

Your mind races with all the things you should have but didn’t do, regret eating away at your consciousness. “Hey,” the word goes unnoticed as your misery begins to plague your thoughts.

“Look at me,” Eunbi’s voice slices through the miasma of your thoughts like a blessed saber. “Remember what we used to say? If you walk in on me fighting cancer…”

“Help the cancer,” You finish the absurd statement, your lips curving into a faint smile.

Eunbi grins from ear to ear, cupping your hand in both of hers.

“You know something like this wouldn’t take me down, so stop those stupid thoughts and get me some yogurt,” She pats your hand, before shooing you away.

You lean forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips before making your way out of the room. You pause outside of the door, taking a moment to let the doctor’s words sink in. Your ears perk up when you hear soft sniffles from the crack of the door, your heart surging as it turns into full-blown sobbing. 

You knew deep in your heart that Eunbi was afraid. She still had many things left to do in this world, but most of all, she was afraid of leaving you. Her confidence was simply a facade to keep your sanity from teetering off the edge–she knew she was your lightning rod, keeping you anchored to the Earth. 

Eunbi had always been the tougher of you two, but now it was your turn. You had to be strong for her. You had to find a way to save your love.

You prayed for hope in this despair. ================================================

The sun shines proudly in the deep blue sky, with no clouds in sight to dampen its radiance. A cool, gentle breeze tickles skin, the trees swaying to an unheard rhythm as the leaves rustle in dance. The forecast had promised thundering storms, yet the weather today was clear evidence that miracles exist.

“Ah, Yewon got a job as a teacher recently, you know? She had always said she loved working with kids, so I’m glad she’s finally chasing her dream,” Eunbi says, sitting cross-legged on the grass.

“Oh, and Jung Eunbi is getting better at dancing, I moved her up to the intermediate class!” Eunbi prattled on, enthusiasm lacing her voice. “Gosh, you should have seen her when she first started. I really admire her determination though, she never skipped a day, and look at where she is now!”

Eunbi smiles, languidly twisting the cap off the bottle of soju. With a practiced motion, she smoothly pours the liquid into two plastic cups, placing them side by side. 

“Man, I never knew why you liked plain soju the most. It tastes like straight battery acid!” She says, clinking her glass against yours. 

She cocks her head back, downing the shot and letting out a satisfied sigh. She sets her cup down, before reaching for yours. She raises it up to the sky as if offering it to the heavens above, before pouring it on the grass that shrouds your grave.

Eunbi smiles faintly, placing the cup back down and screwing the bottle cap on. “I’ll leave you the bottle as always. Expect me to come and annoy you again tomorrow.”

Eunbi rises from her seat of flowers, dusting off her pants. She kisses her fingers, placing them on your tombstone before turning around to leave. She pauses as she’s engulfed in a familiar, warm presence. Stunned, she whips her head around, hoping to see the one she’s been yearning for.

Greeted by nothing but your lifeless tombstone, Eunbi grins from ear to ear, the disappointment that should have been there is completely absent. She wraps her arms around, seemingly hugging the air, swaying to the beat of the trees.

“I love you too.”

And you were dearly missed.

Image sources: https://www.koreaboo.com/lists/gfriend-sinb-casual-fashion-outfit-airport/ https://www.pinterest.com/pin/455848793527318377/ https://pin.it/6NXm7Nd00 https://kpop.asiachan.com/124987 https://pin.it/5TPmVOP9Q 

[hellish-hyperfixation]

masterlist

all of my writings in a little gathering, for your convenience:)

updates may or may not end up being inconsistent depending on how motivated I am to update it

also the first three dr strange fics lead to links from my old blog

grumbo:

ghosting (ship, angst + hurt/NO comfort)

He sits at the base of the palm tree for what feels like hours, eyes closed and head leaning against the trunk, hand still desperately grasping at his dress shirt. His throat clicks when he swallows, and his eyes are greeted with stars when he opens them after hearing the blip of the chat. Grian has made the advancement [Minecraft: Trial(s) Edition] Oh. Okay. He rises, and every step towards his base seems to dull the sharpness of his pain just a little. By the time he’s back by his chest monster, it’s settled at the bottom of his gut, still sharp but wrapped in a thick layer of something. Something that alleviates the pain of the initial hurt but creates a whole new sensation of suffocating numbness to replace it. Acceptance. or, Grian's been distant this season, and Mumbo does what he thinks he needs to to help.

smallidarity:

thunderstorms (ship, angst + fluff + hurt/comfort)

“What does thunder remind you of, Jim?” That wasn’t what he expected. “Uh– thunder? I dunno, rain I guess? S’not like we get much of it here in Tumble Town.” Jimmy answered, feeling a bit like he was missing a piece of a puzzle he didn’t know he was solving. “Y’know what it reminds me of?” Jimmy shook his head. “It reminds me of you.” or, the god of thunder fears thunderstorms and needs a bit of help from the local sheriff to overcome it

newt scamander:

by your side (m!reader, fluff)

Nearly every night, Newt went on a walk into the nearby forest. It started as early as his time in Hogwarts. Everything about forests calmed him: the scent of trees and plants, the cries and scuttles of creatures and insects, the sunlight or moonlight peeking through the thick canopy. It was on one of these walks that he’d met you, a metamorphagus. or, reader transforms into animals to protect newt from dark wizards because he's a reckless man.

kakashi hatake:

swinging (m!reader, fluff)

A new member of Konoha opened up an art shop in the village. Coincidentally, he managed to open Kakashi's heart up to parts of himself that he didn't know existed at the same time.

doctor stephen strange:

I love you a latte (m!reader, fluff)

Stephen Strange bought a coffee machine that began malfunctioning not long after the purchase. Luckily for him, a cafe with a friendly barista was being built across the street.

happy early birthday (gn!reader, fluff)

Stephen Strange becomes familiar with the soft violin playing of his new assistant at the New York Sanctum, and falls. Hard.

beautiful (m!reader, hurt/comfort + fluff)

Stephen Strange, although known for having an overinflated ego, had an insecurity that nobody was shy about pointing out. Then, he's introduced to a man who never pried, and he couldn't help but fall.

[iamineskew]

hi so unrelated I CANNOT STOP IMAGINING HIM relaying all these stories to his flatmates and theyre caught between indulging his madness and laughing at him (s5 e4 birds hellooo??? obsessed w that format??? i dont know how to write bouganas name??? bojana? bogana? FUCK.) and and and and. im just wondering how they think hes crazy after the silly creechur across the street that they ALL SAW that he gave his scarf to. what about the fucking street eaters and that sily teleporting cafe? werent they RIGHT THERE?

also jimmy is hecking adorable and im so sad that he is no longer in a place that exists. bad with children but having magic child touch? fuken. aforable. im loving. affectionate. slightly insane. but for the Life of me it felt very tism coded !! my own cat sat with me while i listened which was nice.

the shit his cat gets up to ??? SCARING A BUNCH OF TEENAGERS AND KILLING NEARLY ALL OF THEM ?? at least he got that fish right? priorities.

i think its hilarious that with both the nice science lady (in the alien parasite episode) and maisy he kills everyone around them and then they cuddle him like hes saved them but noo hes a MURDER kitty !!! and he still doesnt have a name !!

OH AND. HES LOST AGAIN. I KNOW IT WOULDNT BE THE LOST CAT PODCAST WITHOUT LOST CATS, BUT WASNT HE LITERALLY HOME? CHANGED WITH HIS TAIL CURLING AND SWAYING AT WILL BUT HOME ???

also :/ its been months and im stil not over lisica’s death. she was literally the best and amazing.

[bobateaboo]

wrote a short fucked up lil piece, which i'm putting here on ao3. putting trigger warnings for stalking and cannibalism right up here so no one misses em

Dear Reese, love of my life

I’ve been cooking since the day I could carry a pan, and yet I never understood what “the fastest way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach” meant until I layed eyes on you. The first time we met, at that quaint little cafe on woodland street, when your hands brushed mine, that’s when I realized.

The tenderness of your skin, the warmth, the muscles, tendons holding your bones together

When your touch dazzled the key to a lock I had never known existed right in front of my eyes, close for just a breathtaking moment, before drawing back, bringing gifts of coffee and baked goods back to a table of your siblings, leaving me stunned, breathless, basking in the scene only you and I knew existed.

That is when I realized not only what it means to be in love, but what it means to be a chef.

Since that day I have written dozens of recipes, each one for you

I would start with the meat of your thigh, separating it out from just below the pelvis to just below the knee, cutting it up into cubes, about 1 inch by one inch. I would admire your skin; so beautiful, with the lavender moisturizer you use every night! But oh, it would have to come off for this. That’s alright; I won’t let it go to waste.

I would leave it to boil in broth and wine for an hour and a half (after browning it on each side to get that lovely texture you deserve), and add carrots, thyme, potatoes and onions to the pot before letting it simmer for just 30 more minutes. I would add salt to taste, and usually rosemary - but you don’t like rosemary, do you? I see you pick aside the pieces in any dish - and you would revel in how delicately I had prepared the perfect meal. You would finally realize my skill, and throw yourself into my arms, and of course I would catch you, as you would no longer have legs to stand on.

And of course, love, you would bask in the golden light of my kitchen, just the way I see you cook with your brothers every Saturday night, with your light and laughter spilling out to where I sit hidden, outside your window, tainting the cold night air with your warmth, and fiddle with the locks on your windows, wondering if I could open them with the same key you used to open my heart. I laugh back sometimes, have you ever heard me? Quiet, so that my voice is only for your ears, I still remember that night when you leaned out the window, looking for me. I held my breath, as you leaned close enough for me to reach out and touch you. I was patient for you, don’t you see? All so we could have this

For the next meal, I would use the meat of your shoulder. I would slice, so delicately, from the joint connecting your shoulder blades to your elbows, separating it ever so lovingly from the bone. I would cut the bone into pieces and heat them in a pan, letting the fat from the marrow boil and coat the surface, before adding in chopped onions, letting them caramelize for ten minutes. While waiting, I would cut the meat into strips, marinate them in garlic powder, worsteshire sauce and just a dash of hot pepper sauce for the kick. I would lay them across the pan, listening to the sizzle as they meet the metal, adding chopped peppers for the added spice. 

The heat would singe your tongue, and I would, oh so graciously, help you with your glass of milk to calm the burning, given that you’ll have no hands to drink with anymore. Your eyes would tear up oh so slightly and I would kiss the salt away

And dear, oh, you would sit so comfortably in my kitchen while I cooked up smaller meals of your forearms and calves, and listen to me with that wonderful look in your eyes you get when you’re concentrating as I try to think up a dish worthy of your ribs and liver, and when all is said and done I would keep your heart in a jar so that it could be mine forever, just the way you stole my own, locked away in a glass cabinet for only me to enjoy

You have to understand, love, I’ve been yours since the day I looked you in the eyes, and gods, love, I will revel in making you mine

Xoxo, 

Your secret admirer, and the love of your life

(Even if you haven’t realized it yet)

[teddybeartoji]

彡 LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A MOVIE

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; meet-cute, fluff!! and a lot of smiles bc that's all i know to write about, he's an office boy in this just for the fun of it + this is for you my love @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat<33 thank you for this cute little idea this belongs to you!!! wc: 1.5k

the afternoon sun is warm on your skin as you take a second to relax against the bus window. the music booming from your headphones sounds extra crisp today and the shuffle seems to be on your side – only playing the right songs today, letting you completely forget the existence of a skip button.

you can faintly hear the bus doors beep through the music and you hum to yourself, so ready to complete the rest of your errands and to reward yourself with a sweet cup of coffee from your favourite cafe.

your eyes are set on the cars and the traffic on the other side of the window until a body enters your peripheral. turning your head, you go to investigate the motion and what you see almost gives you a brain anerysm.

a man, seemingly your age, panting and heaving with flushed cheeks is staring right back at you. his cheeks are a dark red hue and his eyes are crystal blue – nothing like you've ever seen before. he's grasping onto the pole next to the door as they closely shut behind him and he's smiling.

a smile that most certainly belongs in a museum. he's showing you his teeth and his pretty pink lips and you gulp, suddenly feeling a bit warm yourself. it's a sheepish grin – a bit embarrassed maybe, but bright, oh so bright nonetheless.

a few of his snow white hairs cling to his forehead and his free hand moves to loosen the black tie around his neck, taking in big deep breaths to level his breathing.

the eye contact lasts way longer than it should – especially between complete strangers but it doesn't feel awkward nor weird. the butterflies in your stomach being the main argument here.

the bus jolts as it starts moving forward and his eyes flick away from yours for just a second, scanning the surroundings – and you swear the tips of his ears grow a tad darker when he spots the free spot right across from you. he shuffles past a few other people and plops down, tugging his briefcase onto his lap. from the corner of your eye, you spot a dash of color – pink socks with little bows on them, from underneath his black slacks and you hold back a laugh. he seems to notice your observation and even though he thought he couldn't get any more flustered... he can. he let's out a shy laugh under his breath before locking his eyes onto the ground.

feeling a bit nervous from the interaction yourself, you decide to divert your gaze outside and back to the various cars passing by.

you feel his eyes on you the second they're there – his gaze is not for the weak. it's heavy and it's curious; he takes in your freckles and your outfit, the way your eyes catch the sun and the way you subconciously bop your head to your music. he hugs his briefcase closer to his chest as he feels his heart grow twice in size.

without moving your head, you glance back at him and your eyes meet again. he offers you another bashful grin and you can't help but mirror it, letting the corners of your lips tug upward toward your ears. his only widens even more and a pair of dimples appear. a coo theatens to slip from the back of your throat but you manage to keep it in. he's beautiful. he can't sit still for the life of him – his leg bounces, the rush from the run and the rush from the beautiful stranger running through his body. his fingers dig into the material of his little bag as he tries to keep his excitement down.

for eight minutes, you steal glances of each other. sometimes meeting, sometimes not. the smiles and the butterflies stay. the warmth in both of your cheeks stay until he his eyes widen and he turn to look behind him at the monitor displaying the stops. his head whips to the street outside and he let's out an inaudible gasp before hastily pushing himself onto his feet, his briefcase almost falling in the process. you lean to catch it but he does it before you, rewarding you with a small thank you! anyway.

he stumbles toward the door as he keeps his eyes on you, bumping into another passanger and immediately showering the guy with quiet apologies. you quietly laugh behind your hand and his chest blooms with pride – proud to have made you laugh, even if it's at his own misfortune.

the bus comes to a halt but he finds it hard to leave. you're a stranger but he wants to count the freckles that adorn your face. you're a stranger but he wants to listen to what you listen. you're a stranger but he's already addicted to making you laugh – he doesn't want to leave.

you've turned your whole body toward him in the meanwhile, seemingly just as distraught as he is about your sudden goodbye. your eyes shine so brightly as you stare back at him, pleading to make him promise that you'll see each other again.

the doors beep and he's about to be caught in between them—

"I LIKE YOUR SMILE!"

it comes out so loud that almost the whole entire tram turns around and if you felt warm before – you're burning now. he seems surprised by his own tone as he steps out of the machine, eyes still glued to yours. he's not embarrased and neither are you – this is probably the most romantic thing you've ever experienced in your whole life (and this is only the beginning).

you glance to the front of the bus and spot a red light through the window – the world is on your side. turning your head back, he's still there, standing tall behind the glass doors, one hand clutching the handle of his briefcase while the other twitches beside his body. he's considering just ditching work and breaking through the doors just to spend another moment with you.

he's pulled from his disgustingly romantic thoughts when he sees your lips move. he locks in and tries to mouth along to make sure he understands what you're trying to tell him.

"eye... laai.. k... yu.. s" his eyes squint and his eyebrows furrow as he leans his body closer to the door – you almost hear the confused huh that bursts from his lips. it only makes you laugh even more, head dipping back and your body ripples with warmth.

you hear the bus start up again and you quickly focus back on him, afraid that it'll take off before he gets your message.

to emphasize your words, you try to sign with them. you point to yourself as you mouth the word i, your fingers move into a makeshift heart as you mouth the word like and you point to him—

the bus jolts again and you speed your last movement.

you point to him and then back at your own mouth – smile.

for good measure, the handsome stranger says the words out loud once more and he gets it now! he wants to repeat it back to you but before he can, the bus takes off - leaving him with the sight of you grinning as wave him goodbye.

he watches the machine disappear into the traffic until he feels his phone vibrate in his chest pocket. he pulls it out and unlocks it without ever looking at it, he raises it to his ear as he floats in his little daydream—

"tell me you're at least on your way, gojo." he hears his coworker sigh deeply into the phone, he almost feels it. the stranger shakes his head, letting his white curls flow in the wind as he tries to get back to his day.

"yeah-yeah, i'm literally about to step inside, nanami." another sigh emits from the other side of the call. "by the way, do you want coffee? i know you do. i'll get you something, don't even worry about it."

"how are you going to buy coffee when you're about to step insi-"

the stranger ends the call, cutting of his coworker with a smile. the sun warms his head and his heart as he wonders whether you like coffee too. he feels like the only person in the world in this moment – the birds are singing, the gentle wind is blowing, his coworker will most likely cover for him and the sweet drinks and the pastries he's about to buy will taste divine, he just knows it.

he promises himself that he will take the same bus the tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that – he's gonna see that smile again.

[kitsuvil]

"Weakness" - Coincidence?

☆

masterlist | next chapter

"Cross the street, turn right, go straight, take another right, okay, I got it," I quitely recite while traversing the streets. I won't get lost. I admire the new buildings around the city along my trip, imagining how familiar they'll feel once I get used to living here. Once I take the last right, I spot someone that looks like Mona wearing a hoodie. It's absolutsly time to surprise her and get her back for all those jokes she's scared me with.

I get a bit closer, and immediately start running towards her and jump onto her back, tackling her with a hug. But when I hear a young male voice come from the person I just tackled, I freeze while still on his back. I slowly get my bearings and stand up, more embarassed than I've ever been. Even more than that one time I accidentally put a photo of Satoru Gojo nudes in my presentation and forgot about it and... Presented it.

"Hey, I'm really fucking sorry I thought you were my friend, this is so awkward," I address the person I just essentially harassed. "No worries, really, I think it was funny, maybe fate made you mistake me for your friend," He laughs.

"Are you sure? That must've scared you really bad,"

"Of course, here, let me see if I can make you feel any better," He chuckles and puts his hands to his mouth.

"Free hugs! Free hugs anyone! I'm giving free hugs!" He yells in the middle of a large crowd of people. "Why- Why would you ever do that, what are you doing?" I panic. He looks over while still beckoning people to come over, "You can't be the only one who feels and looks like a fool," he smiles.

Come to think of it... He looks pretty familiar?

"Hey, stop, it's fine, really, please get over here and don't make yourself look dumb just for me to feel better," I breathe a heavy sigh.

"I was kinda having fun, I haven't had good hugs in a while," He whines as I drag him towards the side of a store.

"You're incredibly attractive, of course it's going to be fun for you. Who doesn't want free hugs from a hot dude," I roll my eyes.

"I'm attractive?" He looks over and raises one of his eyebrows.

"...Yes? That is simply an objective fact," I cross my arms.

"Thank you nonetheless,"

"Anyways... I hate to say this, but I think I know you? Are you not that one crime youtuber? That does vlogs all the time?" I pop the question that's been bugging me.

"Oh! That you would be correct!" He perks up at the recongition, "How do you know me?"

"I'm actually majoring in criminal psychology at the college nearby, I just moved into the dorms because the apartments where I lived were becoming way too expensive."

"Really? For real? That's where I study for my criminology degree!" He laughs, "I knew it was fate when you jumped me, coincidences like that just don't exist."

"Right... Hey, will it be too much if I ask if we can hang out at the cafe across the street? I'd love to get to know you better," I hesitantly ask.

"Don't you have friends waiting for you?"

"They... They can wait, I know they'll understand. I'd never throw a once in a lifetime opportunity into the garbage like that, I'm meeting a new friend and it happens to be Shikanoin Heizou?"

"Interesting, alright I'm fine with that, I'll be paying though!" He starts heading towards the cafe.

I join in right behind him; as much as I'd like to complain... I did just move, I don't exactly have the funds to spend so casually.

taglist: @griseoo

ty for reading the first chapter! there's more to come, stick around if ur interested <3

summary; Shikanoin Heizou runs a popular crime and conspiracy analysis youtube channel. Y/N is taking college for a criminal psychology degree. What happens after Y/N is searching for their friends in the crowd of a new area that they just moved to, but when they run up to the person they expect to be their friend and wrap them in a tight hug… It happens to be Shikanoin Heizou himself?

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Three: Extra-Job

Mentions of: Creepy Behavior, Unwanted Touching, But Some Cuteness too ig

A/N: P much a filler chapter but idc lmao

Tags: @autisticpickle @darthwhorecrux @froegis @dead-bxtch-walking @moonshineinasippycup

What Rachel said is right. Working as a secretary for the Roseville Gazette sucks. Most of the employees either treat you like shit or act like you don’t even exist, and there are days where you’re bored out of your mind or where you’re completely overwhelmed with work, and there’s no in between. It’s been a rough adjustment, but you’ve managed to somewhat get used to it.

There are some perks to it as well. Since you have to bring everyone coffee in the morning, (a rule you weren’t aware of until a couple of days in) you get free donuts. Not everyone here is horrible, just most people.

Still, you do have some co-workers that you like spending time with and make this whole situation a little more bearable, such as Jed and Rachel.

Rachel’s funny, smart, strong, and honest. A little too honest at times, but you still enjoy her company. She’s the type of woman you’ve always aspired to be, and you can’t help but idolize her.

Jed’s probably the kindest person here. He’s much less outspoken than Rachel, seeming to know when to hold his tongue, but he’s also very charming and charismatic, and he always knows what to say.

Apparently, he managed to get his job just by walking up to Jamison, shaking his hand, and talking about some bullshit with American values. If only it was that easy for you.

Speaking of your boss, after working with him for the past two weeks, you’re almost completely certain he’s a creep. There have been situations where he compliments you in a borderline inappropriate way, or when he’s getting a little handsy, touching your shoulder or the small of your back for a little too long, or if he leans in too close, so close that you can smell the coffee on his breath. The thought of it now still makes you nauseous.

You’re really starting to dislike him, but you know you should be grateful. He got you this amazing job, after all, one that still isn’t paying your bills.. Now you know it makes sense, you’re a secretary, but it would be nice to make something slightly substantial, compared to all the other jobs you’ve worked.

You don’t make that much money right now, and you know there’s not much you can do about it, except for getting another job to keep you from being broke and living on the streets. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do today.

There’s a small restaurant just across the road from the cafe where you get coffee, called Mama Lucy’s. The other day, you saw a “Help Wanted” sign there, and figured you’d give it a try.

Now, here you are, in front of the two doors. It’s been a long day at work, and you’re exhausted, but you know you have to come here before crashing at your apartment.

If you get a job here, everything will be fine. No more stress, no more worries, well, no worries about money, at least. Still, you would consider it a win.

After taking a deep breath and readying yourself, you walked through the front door, bells ringing as it shut. As you entered, the smell of mozzarella and tomato hit your nose, making your mouth water. The restaurant looks very busy, seeming at almost maximum capacity, the tables all filled with families, couples, and others.

A brunette boy, around teen age rushed over to you, with a notepad in hand. “We’re really busy here, so unless you have a reservation, I can’t help you.”

That was rude, but it’s not like you can blame him. The kid seems stressed out of his mind, handling all of these customers, with barely any help? It’s something you’ve been through before, and it’s almost kind of impressive how he’s handling it.

“Oh, I’m not here for- I’m applying for a job, actually.” You replied politely. That got his attention, making him perk up and look at you. “Really?”

You nodded, and he turned away, shouting over the loud conversing voices. “Mom, Mom, Mom!” He groaned when there was no response, turning back to you.

“C’mon, follow me.” You followed the boy through the restaurant, squeezing past tables and rushing waiters and waitresses, before reaching the kitchen doors.

Inside stood a rather large man, with his black hair pulled back. His movements were quick, yet controlled, cooking multiple different meals at once. He was cooking all of this stuff by himself, no one but a busboy helping him.

“Joe, do you know where my Mom is?” The teenager asked, while you stood there awkwardly, watching the cook work in awe.

“Last time I saw her, she was serving table nine, with the Smith family.” His voice is laced with a thick, New York accent, and his eyes don’t move from the food he’s working on, having all the details committed to memory.

The next thing you know, you’re standing at the empty table where an older woman is cleaning, not too old, probably around middle aged. She seems stressed, wiping the table off quickly. The teen boy called out to her, trying to get her attention. “I’m busy right now, Nate. I’ll talk later.”

“You sure you want to do that? I have someone who wants to work for you right here.” He said snarkily, getting her attention.

She locked eyes with you, studying you, and you flashed her a small smile. She smiled back, before tossing the rag to her son. “Finish up cleaning, I’ll take her back to my office to talk with her.”

--

“Have a seat.” She instructed, shutting the door behind her. Nervously, you sit down in the chair. For some reason, this feels like it has much higher stakes than your interview for the Gazette.

“So, you must be Lucy, huh?” You joked, making her chuckle slightly, as she walked over to her seat, sitting at the desk across from you.

“No, I’m Lucia, actually. Lucy was my Mother’s name. She started this whole thing, I just followed in her footsteps.” She replied, picking up an old photo from her desk, one that’s facing away from you, and glancing down at it in reminiscence.

From what you can tell, she’s the boy’s mother. She has the same black hair and brown eyes, and a similar facial structure, the difference of her feminine features and age. Adjusting the buttons on her uniform, she puts the photo down, looking back at you again.

“So, tell me, why do you want this job? I mean, judging by how you’re dressed, you look like you already got something much bigger going on.” She remarked, gesturing to the corporate outfit you have on.

You knew you should’ve changed before this. Dress for the job you want, except for when it’s working as a waitress at some rinky dink restaurant.

“Well, the current job I have isn’t supporting me enough, so I want this one too. When I was younger, I worked at a diner with my Mother, so I have plenty of experience. If you want proof, I can-”

“No, no, that’s fine. I’m just pulling your leg. This is great. We need all the help we can get here, clearly.” She said with a smile.

“Oh, okay, thank you.” You nodded, handing her your resume wiith all your information on it. “My name’s ______. Here’s my work and home number. Oh, and also, I can’t work during the day because of my other job, so..”

“You’ll just work the closing shifts from eight to one. You’re starting tomorrow. Make sure to grab a uniform on your way out, cause there’s no way you can just work everyday looking like a CEO.”

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

BSD Poe x short(4”11) female reader

Soulmate au

Fluff oneshot

Reader has the ability to turn into a black cat.

Black Cat in the Rue Morgue

Soulmate AU

Character: Poe x short fem!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Thanks for requesting and for your patience. I haven't written a soulmate AU before so I actually did some research on it and hopefully it pays off. I hope that this is what you wanted and have a pleasant day/night!

The sun was now setting and dipped itself into Yokohama's waters letting it's light drip onto the water's surface. Book in hand, raccoon on his shoulders with a pen in the other hand Poe is lost in his thoughts. The outside world doesn't exist. There is nothing but the various ideas for his novel running through his head and softness of fur against the back of his neck and head.

He jots down a few things that he could elaborate on later. The room is dyed in the color of honey and wine as the fading warmth of the sunset creates a sense of comfort. The side of his face illuminated by the gentle golden color.

Karl suddenly jumps off his shoulders and Poe's startled. His eyes wide, 'How long has it been?' he takes in his surroundings and realizes it's already sunset and soon night will fall upon Yokohama.

Poe gets up, closes his book and stretches with a sickening cracking sound erupting from his back, indeed how long has it been? He looks down to where Karl is sitting on the floor and he reaches to ruffle the fur on his head before leaving the room.

He makes a cup of tea for himself once he's in the kitchen and stares out the window. The sleeve of his shirt slides up a bit as Poe tilts his cup to take a sip, a small scarlet mark of a feline like figure on the underside of his wrist becomes visible. It's always been there but he brushed it off, that was until he came across various articles, theories and fiction books about "soulmates". And he can't help but wonder 'Is there really someone out there who'd love me? Do I have a soulmate? Or is it just a meaningless mark?'

Sometimes he'd think it's preposterous while other times he'd genuinely love that idea. But he always blushes straight after, to imagine spending such intimate moments with someone, to hold their hand, to hold them, to share a meaningful smile...it's really a beautiful thought.

Poe sets his cup down on the counter before adjusting his coat and making his way to the front door of the spacious house and opens it. He peeks through the gap between the door frame and from where he's opened making sure there are no people out at the moment and he sighs a breath of relief. Stepping out into the quiet evening he takes a walk along a specific quiet and peaceful street he likes. Evening and night are the only times he'll ever make it outside the comfort of his home without having an anxiety attack.

As he walks down the pavement a rustling noise can be heard in an alleyway which he is just about to pass. He freezes and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. From the corner of his eye he sees a dark shadow on the floor approaching which makes him panic, "P-Please don't attack me or anything, I really don't have any valuables that you'd wa-" he cut off his sentence as he felt something rub against the bottom of his leg.

Immediately he drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands, "Okay, okay I'll surrender!" he yelps. "..." Nothing. He dares to turn his head towards his left and relief washes over him, a panic stricken face now softens, "Oh, silly me. Always panicking for no good reason." He now looks at a black cat which has it's head tilted to the side out of confusion.

It was the norm for you to roam around the city at night either because you couldn't sleep or you just liked the atmosphere. If someone happened to be walking by and you felt a curious sense of playfulness then you'd just go up and show them some cat-like affection. However, out of all the times you had done so this had never happened. "How cute." he muttered, snapping you out of your thoughts. He reached out to pet the spot atop your head.

'No wonder why cats like this.' was your thought. "I don't see any collar or anything signifying you belong to someone." he said aloud placing his forefinger on his chin. "I can't just leave you here alone, hmm and Karl would have a playmate if I took you back with me...oh but do raccoons and cats get along? They could possibly..." as he rambled on you wondered if this was a good time as any to scram or reveal that you're actually a human who has the ability to turn into a cat, specifically a black one.

You slowly backed away and he noticed. "Oh no don't be scared!" he reaches his hands out to you. Ah, he seemed like such a nice person, a gentle person. You couldn't just leave like that, now could you? A ribbon of grey spun around you with various kanji on it. A bright light flashed and Poe freezes with his hands which wanted to reach out to you. His eyes widen once he sees the sight in front of him and questions everything he knows. His mouth agape.

"Hi." you said shyly whilst dusting your attire. "...you..." he still kneeled on the ground, frozen. You felt nervous but thought that after what he just witnessed it'd be necessary to tell him about yourself. "Uhm, okay I know you think this is weird but there's this thing called abilities and my ability is to turn into a black cat..." you sped through your words while fiddling with your thumbs.

Now he understands. Of course he knows what abilities are. "Oh. Ah, don't worry I know what abilities are. I have one myself." he says standing up, now realizing just how short you are. You look up, "Wait, you do as well?" a certain spark of curiosity in your eyes, I guess having a cat ability allows you to have the same characteristics of a cat. His cheeks have a faint red color on them, you look cute when you're curious.

"Y-Yes, it's called Black Cat in the Rue Morgue." "What a coincidence." you giggle. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs contently, "Yes it is. It allows me to transport my readers into my books." "Oh, you're a writer!?" another spark of curiosity in your eyes. He internally smiled at your apparent excitement, "Yes I am. Ah! Excuse my rudeness, my name is Edgar Allan Poe but you can just call me Poe if you'd like."

A smile adorned your face and you introduced yourself too. "I'm sorry about startling you earlier, I promise you I'm no cat burglar." He blinks and after a moment you both laugh at the little pun made and the situation itself. "I don't think such an innocent looking being could ever do such a thing." he blushes as he says those words and you do too.

He takes a look at his surroundings and back at you. "W-Would you...like to uh join me for a stroll? I was planning on going t-to this cafe that's opened til late?" You look up and smile while silently thinking his stuttering is rather cute. "Sure." The walk there was peaceful and enjoyable, every three seconds he would glance at you and a lingering question would be on his mind but he brushes it off. He tries to get to know you despite his nervousness and he succeeds. Even if it's just the little things such as your favorite color, where you live, if you have any pets.

You both finally reached the cafe and took a seat, he was gentleman about pulling your seat out for you and such. The only part he dreaded was ordering, that anxiousness that would bubble up in his chest made his mouth go dry and he's at a loss for words. The barista comes about and asks if you'd both like to order anything, a simple coffee/latte was fine for you. Poe looked pale and tugged on the front of his shirt. You worried if he was okay but he eventually ordered something to drink off the menu and a sigh of relief escaped him once he was done talking.

"You okay?" His eyes widens as he finally looks up at you again, "Yes. Yeah I'm fine, no need to worry. I just..." he looks down again while rubbing the back of his neck, his hair falling over his eyes. "I'm just really shy if you could say that. Or perhaps i just have social anxiety." he let out a nervous chuckle while lifting his head to smile at you. A giggle escapes you, "I think it's cute." He's taken aback but only because he's not used to being complimented and his face turns red.

The orders are served and the barista bows and leaves again. A light-hearted conversation flitters between you two and Karl comes up somewhere in the conversation, Poe saying that he'd love to let you see him. You tilt your cup to take a sip of your drink and the sleeve of your shirt rides up a bit, revealing a portion of your wrist. Poe is taking a sip too and his eyes flutter over your figure.

His eyes widen once he catches sight of the scarlet mark on your wrist and he chokes. "A-Are you okay?" you put your cup down and panic slightly. "Y-Yes I'm fine." he replies adjusting himself.

"Can I ask you something?" curiosity now lacing his voice. "Sure, go ahead."

"Have you always had that red feline-like mark on your wrist?" You look at the mark and reply that it's always been there, indeed. "I think it's because of my ability but I'm not really sure. Perhaps it's a birthmark." He smiles. "Perhaps it is." Is this what he thinks it is? No...he couldn't possibly just jump to conclusions, but certainly what a coincidence it was. The exact same mark on both your wrists and a meeting like this? A beautiful coincidence it was.

"Why do you ask?" you tilt your head to the side much as you did when you were a cat. And if he didn't think you were any cuter now he'd be damned. "Oh no, just asking." he gives a closed eyes smile.

'Soulmates. How fascinating.' he thinks while smiling at you as you take another sip of your coffee/latte. His eyes wander again to the scarlet mark on your wrist.

And the plot thickens.

[selinakidreams]

hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee​ @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam. 

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order. 

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you. 

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste. 

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one. 

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.  

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off. 

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze. 

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest  felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.  

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.`` 

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around. 

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?” 

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks. 

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it. 

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.” 

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.” 

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door. 

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds. 

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts. 

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling. 

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied. 

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name. 

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with. 

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first. 

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor? 

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone. 

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable. 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood. 

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him. 

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter. 

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes. 

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.” 

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to. 

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?” 

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words. 

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale. 

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up. 

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout. 

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill. 

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward  any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements. 

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.”  Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch. 

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. 

Oh fuck. 

You felt yourself throb. 

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.” 

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed. 

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms. 

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you. 

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you. 

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?” 

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.” 

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?” 

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.” 

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 “So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest. 

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again. 

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know. 

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same. 

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp. 

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips. 

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body. 

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back. 

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you. 

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush. 

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

 He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his. 

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly. 

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it. 

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body. 

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic. 

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of. 

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling. 

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox. 

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned. 

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again. 

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

 “I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly. 

This was going to be fun. 

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch. 

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.” 

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name. 

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance. 

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out. 

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out. 

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you. 

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy. 

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..” 

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him. 

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

[juyoens]

coffee, waffles, & the boy next door | eric sohn

summary: you’re not really into this whole adulting thing yet, but now you have two things to look forward to: the new guy next door who keeps jokingly asking you to dinner every time you see each other, and the person who found out they’ve been unintentionally stealing your favorite waffles at the cafe and has started telling the baristas to leave notes on your coffee being all cocky about it. pairing: eric sohn x gn!reader ft. some tbz members making cameos pairing: slice of life, romance :p warnings: you & co. def say ‘fuck’ at some point, you and eric are kind of crazy, horrible attempt at comedy

It’s been over a year since you moved into your new apartment, which has you over the moon because 1. You live alone now and you can do whatever you want, and 2. It makes you totally feel like a legit adult….if such a term even exists.

And as for the third reason, well…..

“Y/N!” The cheerful, hearty voice that always greets you as you make your way back from work belongs to Eric Sohn, your next door neighbor.

“Hey! D’you have a good day?” you plastered a smile on your face once you turned to him. Ever since you moved in he has always greeted you, some days even helping you carry your groceries inside since he knows you live alone.

The routine of asking each other about how your days went had gotten you two standing outside your apartment doors for like 30 minutes while you just kind of….awkwardly held onto your key already inside the keyhole.

But you were always so immersed into your conversations with Eric, having the positive energy of someone so funny and cheerful constantly around you be such a contrast to your days at work where you’re still trying to get the hang of things. In summary, you’ve grown fond of your neighbor. Your really really really cute neighbor.

There’s always this one line that he says though that catches you off guard each time.

“What if....you went to dinner with me?" jokingly, of course.

You’re not sure how he even manages to casually slip that in each time and why he does so jokingly, but it always ends in the two of you bursting out into laughter before waving goodnight and getting inside your respective apartments.

“They’re clearly interested, who the fuck asks that everyday?” a co-worker of yours, Chanhee, says with simple directness as the two of you walk inside the nearby cafe before heading to work.

“There’s no…..way. Fuck!" your smile slips as soon as you reach the display of pastries, seeing your favorite waffles filled to the brim with cream, gone, once again. Just like every other day.

It shouldn’t piss you off this much, but the baristas know about your whole struggle and have told the person who keeps getting them ahead of you all about it, leading to them having the baristas leave messages for them whenever they hand out your coffee.

Chanhee simply lets out a chuckle as you let out a gloomy sigh. The usual barista working the morning shift and the reason behind this weird waffle war starting, Younghoon, gives you an awkward grin as you walk up to the counter.

“The usual, Younghoon. Thanks.” you order, and he doesn’t say anything and just gets to work with it. You watch with an annoyed look as you watch him place the post-it note on your coffee cup.

“Well, well, what’s it gonna be this time,” Chanhee mocks as Younghoon hands over the cup to you. “Thanks….Younghoon.” you force a smile at him, and he simply shrugs. “You were just late by 2 minutes, y’know.”

“We really shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the sidewalk just to talk about my cute neighbor,” you turn to Chanhee with a disappointed look.

“There are other waffles in the city, you know that right?”

“It’s not like this one though.”

Chanhee rolls his eyes at you at how ridiculous and funny he found this whole situation, while you look down at your coffee cup and take the sticky note off.

I won again! You should get here earlier, they sell out fast, if you haven’t figured that out yet ;)

“I do know that!” you huff, and Chanhee nudges you to tell you that you just said that out loud and now the people behind you are just giving you weird looks, but you completely ignore that and just get out of there.

The day passes by with you forgetting the whole thing like you usually do, and you write a mental note to yourself that you’ll be there earlier tomorrow, which, you’ve wrote so many of that your brain is on overload with the same note being written every single day only for you to not succeed and get that damn waffle every morning.

There’s something good to look forward to, at least.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice is like music to your ears at this point. “We seem to always get off work at the same time, no?” he chuckles.

“How was your day? I don’t really have much to tell on my part, but there’s this really funny person who keeps trying to get the waffle at the cafe across the street from where I work, and I do feel bad but also those are my favorite so I’ve just found it fun to leave them-”

“What?” your eyes widen and your voice raises at him, cutting off his babbling. "That was you?!”

Eric drew his eyebrows for a second in confusion, before terror overtook his face as soon as he realised what you were implying.

“Y-You….Oh my god. That was you, Y/N?”

“I asked you that first! You mean to tell me I’ve been so friendly with the guy who's been stealing my waffles for the past months?!”

“I didn’t steal them!”

The two of you bicker, your voices echoing through the halls before some guy named Sunwoo peeks his head out his apartment door and tells you two to shut the fuck up or at least lower your voices.

Now with your little argument interrupted, the two of you mutter your apologies to the poor guy before turning back to one another in awkward silence, unsure how to return to it.

After a few seconds of silence, you tried to stifle a laugh, before bursting out into laughter. “What?”

“We just...argued about waffles.” you breathed out, making Eric burst into a fit of laughter with you.

Your neighbors probably think the two randos who were just loudly arguing about waffles and now laughing like maniacs in the hallway are batshit insane, but you two couldn’t even care less about that right now.

“Ok, well, I’m really sorry about the notes thing. I promise tomorrow I’ll let you have it. If only I had known that was you….” he says, making the effort to sound assuring.

“It’s fine. I don’t care now that I know who’s been doing that,” you assured, letting out a chuckle. But then, a bright idea. This was your chance to get that dinner that you wanted.

“Although,” you begin, Eric’s head suddenly jerking back in your direction. “Since you’ve been jokingly asking me to dinner all this time, you should get on that for compensation.”

Eric grins. “That wasn’t a joke at all. I just kept doing it since you…..kept laughing it off."

Great. Good to know you both are crazy and really fucking oblivious.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. As payment for that, I’ll be getting the waffle again tomorrow.”