#first time anyone has a crush on me and its gotta be one of Those Guys

[tsumuus]

mha boys as american high school teenage stereotypes

a/n this isn't an original idea, ik that, but this is just my take on it. also lowk just based off of ppl ik irl but also just really similar to the actual character. also these are really short n simple, my brain wasn't able to think any further

characters katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki, izuku midoriya, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero, tenya iida, hitoshi shinsho

masterlist

katsuki bakugou

not just saying this bc he's my fav

but quite literally the most popular person at school

like hes handsome, athletic, smart, rich, all of the above, no one could ever compare

everybody would have a crush on him (shit i would too)

or hate him

no in between

but he's still very intimidating so he doesn't have a lot of friends and has a heard time making em

not saying he's a playboy or anything

but definitely gets hella attention from girls

but he is more often than not uninterested

he would play football no doubt, run track/shot put during his off season to stay fit

not a douchebag but he totally comes off as one

shoto todoroki

he's the loser, the loner

actually jk, bc i really don't believe anyone is a loner

theres gotta be someone he talks too

hes that smart kid whos schedule is filled w ap n honors classes

and his only friends would be classmates that hes not super close w so they never talk outside of school (me lol)

hes rich rich

def plays tennis or golf, school and club

he's THE hallway crush

especially for like underclassmen

he just gives off that mysterious vibe that makes girls fall for him

not to mention he is sooooo pretty

like it's not a secret that he is attractive

but he's never had a gf or even a situationship in his life

idek

izuku midoriya

teachers pet 100% lol

not the smartest but also not dumb

like definitely top 20% of his class

i feel like he would take part in a lot of extracurriculars

he's not popular at all

but has a small group of close friends

so so sassy

like imagine arguing w him about a random subject

and you just start to piss him off

he just puts you on blast and starts embarrassing the hell out of you

making you feel hella stupid

he doesn't do it to be mean or anything

he's just a sassy lil guy idk

sassy man apocalypse!!

eijiro kirishima

social butterfly

friends with everyone

but not like a floater friend

but literally just everyones friend

like he's so genuine and is able to get along with everybody

sooo loyal

always has the best advice

definition of boyfriend material!!!

probably has had a long term gf

he takes his relationships n friendhsips so seriously

definitely plays multiple sports

idk i see him as a wrestler or even like gymnastics lol

lowk imagine him apart of the schools student council or leadership club

fully goes out for football games/friday night lights

denki kaminari

class clown fs

also lowk rlly flirty but has never had a gf or even come close

like such a ladies man

thats just part of his personality

most of his friends are girls but not in a weird way

he's the life of the party

lowk one of the only characters i can see myself having a smoke sesh w lol

big party goer

theres a house party being thrown

best believe he's there

he's not the brightest of the bunch

but he does try, its not like hes lazy

he's also so pretty

deff one of those guys w the longest eyelashes than any girl lol

lowk tennis player!denki?

also sorta see him as a swimmer/waterpolo

hanta sero

he is just so friendly

lowk a npc

but i still love him

he's so laid back and chill and has such a relaxed personality

like if you'd ever need to just have a calm night/hang out with one of your friends, he's the first person youd call

has had mulitple gfs, but def not a player

they just never seem to workout

would start a bs club with his friends so every other week they could just order a couple pizzas to school and hang out in the chill teachers class

idk i feel like hes kinda artsy

like he took art 1 his freshman year just for an easy a and schedule requirements, but he realized he was actually kinda creative

likes to doodle in class rather than pay attention now

lowk plays basketball

big car guy!!

tenya iida

THE honor student

number 1 in his class

5.0 gpa

student council persident all 4 years of high school

friend group is made up of all the other nerds who take 10+ ap classes

definitely got into multiple colleges before even applying

definitely not just saying this because of his quirk, but would lowk do track n xc

everything ive said so far i legit just his normal self😭😭😭 lemme try to get more specific

lowk imagine an iida where like outside of school he's lowk a partier

like imagine him getting blackout drunk every weekend but sobering up for school every week

and still being the best student in his grade

he's just so handsome

multiple girls have liked him but he's rejected them due to wanting to have his life set in place before thinking about romance

hitoshi shinso

he's so fucking emo just look at him

ok well not emo but just a little alternative

but yk in an american high school being a little alt means other people see you as full out gothic

so what if he's just a little quiet and brooding☹️☹️

again he's also smart

but he doesn't take all those honor classes

he wouldn't admit it but his favorite genre to watch is reality tv

best believe he was fully invested in season 6 of love island

#ppgbackontop

not an athletic guy

but was definitely forced to like play soccer or sum as a kid

works at your local comic/record store

all the emo girls that come in have a crush on him

thats all i got😫

[378262]

girl help someone has a crush on me and i am trying so hard to not be a bitch but. i do not want you i alr have the hat man

[stellocchia]

This Post by @howlsofbloodhounds reminded me of how much I love one-sided crushes on Killer. And specifically my headcanons for one-sided Killermare. And I just need to share now.

Because, okay, I don't think Nightmare's feelings would be actual love or actual romantic feelings. Despite those having the capacity to be rather neutral, I don't think Nightmare would be interested in anyone that way (aro Nightmare is canon in my heart).

But he would over time develop a level of obsession for Killer. He's the only constant company he gets, the only one keeping away that dreadful feeling of loneliness that in the past tormented him. And he's a valuable weapon on top of it. Like, Killer could kick Nightmare's ass and probably would do so if his control ever slipped.

So at first, he wants Killer to think about him and only him all of the time because, well, he's a lonely motherfucker. And because he can't risk Killer thinking of others. That's the first step toward him leaving with someone else. Of course, this immediately escalates into jealous behavior as soon as Color enters the picture, whether or not his and Killer's relationship is romantic in nature, because now Killer has options. Now his thoughts don't solely revolve around him. And Nightmare doesn't like that. Killer is his property after all.

Killer in all of this is behaving like the perfect thoughtful partner. It's a survival strategy. He's afraid of what may happen if he doesn't play along. So he flirts with Nightmare, he puts on all his charm, he accepts all his gifts with a bright smile, and uses them all (the gifts are things like: a collar, a tracker, and a new knife so he doesn't have to use something from his previous owner anymore. And people say romance is dead /j).

It comes easier to Stage 2, as they have a certain detachment from it all. They wouldn't admit even to themselves how much this charade affects them, and, with their muted emotions, it's pretty easy to trick themselves into ignoring the discomfort. It's not easy for Stage 1. Stage 1 is about to have a panic attack any time Nightmare comes too close, and he's gotta somehow force himself into repressing that because Nightmare can feel it. Stage 1 is having a horrible time.

Stage 3 doesn't even try to hide its discomfort. It's not in its nature. If Nightmare comes close Stage 3 is gonna bite his face and it's not gonna let go. Stage 3 did not get the memo about what exactly their survival strategy is. All it knows is that Nightmare is danger and it's its job to protect the body from danger.

Stage 4 is somehow even more pliant than Stage 2. And that's because it's not doing it consciously as a manipulation tactic, but it's just following what comes naturally to it. And that's following the orders that its owner gives it. What it wants and its comfort is entirely irrelevant to it because they're irrelevant to its owner. (Someone please give this guy a lesson on consent. It's in dire need of one).

And I'm imagining that, once Killer finally escapes with Color, he's gonna throw all of Nightmare's crappy gifts back at him and throw it in his face that there was literally no way he could have ever liked him. This is gonna be the world's messiest break-up

[rainbowchaox]

More on Jimmy missing an eye for you. Tango has him take care of the farm animals while he does all the mining because Jimmy doesn't have any depth perception, so he struggles with fighting players and mobs. Jimmy only takes off his mask when he knows its just the two of them, but it's never far away in case they get any unexpected visitors (cough Joel trampling the wheat again cough). Tango keeps a spare mask for Jimmy in his inventory at all times incase anything happens to Jimmy's.

When they meet up on Empires Season 2, Tango gives Jimmy a custom mask as a present and Jimmy lifts up his mask just enough to give Tango a smooch.

During Limited life, Tango comes with two spare masks for Jimmy, slipping one to him during the first session and whispering, "a back up, just in case My Rancher." before running off to his own alliance.

During Secret Life, most of the server found out because of the tasks. Someone got the oh so silly task during session 3 of, "Steal Jimmy's mask". Mumbo proceeded to do this by waiting until Jimmy was fully engaged in a conversation with Gem, Cleo, Grian, and Impulse to come up behind him and yoink the mask off saying, "sorry Jimmy- I gotta-" only to stop at the looks of shock and horror on his friends faces. They didn't know about Jimmy's face.

It takes Jimmy a few moments to realize what just happened and when he does, panic visibly sets in as he stumbles away from them, covering his missing eye with his hand as he says, "don't- don't look at me- DON'T LOOK AT ME!" and he takes off as fast as he can, heading he doesn't even know where. Not his base, they would look for him there. Not anyone else's, they would find him on accident. He covers his face with both hands, crying loudly as he races past people, trying to find somewhere to hide. Of course this only kicks up the curiosity and concern of those he passes by who try to call out to him or follow him, only making things worse as his panic ratchets up higher and higher, screaming for them to not look at him.

Jimmy hides in a cave, crushing himself into the smallest corner she can find, hiding his face in his chest. Tango is the one who finds him and sits next to Jimmy, just being a rock for Jimmy to lea on and hide behind, waiting for him to be ready to come out on his own. When Jimmy does poke up his head, the first thing Tango says is, "there's my beautiful rancher. Don't worry, I have the spare mask for you right here. And I'm gunna make both Mumbo and whoever wrote that task for him face Serious consequences for this. Now, you wanna stay here a while longer or go see the people who are all really worried about you?" Jimmy chooses to cuddle with Tango for a while longer. The session can stay paused for now. He needs his Rancher.

YOU BRAIN IS COOKING! I also like to imagine as long with your idea that Jimmy has burn scars of hands on his forearms from Tango in double life during the rage scene. He wears those with pride because it reminds him of tango (tango felt bad but Jimmy kissed him silly for angsting about it)

[desire-mona]

randomly assigning house md characters internet moments / videos / memories / whatever i remember based off nothing at all (i did i dps version too) (also links for everything i talk about will be provided) (also also this isnt made to make fun of anyone involved in any of this)

house - mr beast and his OLD OLD youtube videos, like circa 2015? i think? he used to make cringe compilations essentially where he just made fun of kids' youtube intros. face and all like nothing was blurred for privacy, and then he'd call them cringe and make drinking bleach jokes. like a LOT. i binge watched those back in like 4th grade i think? maybe 5th? so thats kinda all i associate him with now. he also made videos where he would say a word like a thousand times, sometimes WAY more (like 100k+). or like. count to that number, he did both. anyway rip house you wouldve loved making fun of kids' youtube videos

wilson - does anyone remember the evian baby commercials? i think the whole shtick was like "this water makes you feel young again" I THINK? the one i linked was the one where the reflection on a building makes ppl babies, but theres one where babies are on roller skates or whatever too. this isnt entirely an internet moment as much as it is just a memory, cuz i remember my mom and my aunt DYING laughing at these commercials. idk what it was they were just in tears. theres something so 2007-2015 about dancing babies. wasnt a dancing baby the first internet meme? just googled it and yes it was.

cuddy - onision's shitty spoken word songs PLEASE tell me someone remembers them. onision really shouldve stopped trying to make music after the banana song bc the rest really suck shit. this is NOT based on vibes i gotta get that out there, i was like hmm cuddy has a kid. you know who else has a kid? YOU KNOW WHO LET THEIR KID FALL OUT OF A WINDOW? cuddy would fucking HATE onision. ALSO OH MY GOD PAUSE EVERYTHING ONISION JUST UPLOADED A SONG. I NEED TO MAKE A SEPERATE POST ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW WHAT THE HELL. anyway dont watch it. i linked strange æon's video on his music just bc i really dont wanna direct u to anything of his directly. did u know i dont like onision?

foreman - the most insane youtube poop ive ever seen in all of my 19 years of living, i sent this to maddie specifically when i made my initial "like for a rando internet moment!" post but i really need to share it with the general public. general warning for youtube poop-ness; flash, loud noises, overwhelming, etc. i am actually begging you to watch this because it tops every other ytp ive ever seen, like actually blows it out of the water. i also has no idea ppl still made ytps after 2014 tbh.... btw this is probably the only ytp that i'll ever recommend LMAO

chase - OH MY GOD KYLERLOVESJESUS. so basically this one eboy influencer type on tiktok back in 2019 Found God and went on rants about how abortion is wrong and gay marriage is bad and blah blah blah. there was this moment on one of his lives where he went "i love gay people, i would be best friends with a gay person. do i support it? no." which was the FUNNIEST shit back in the day. i would quote it on the daily. btw the editing of the video i linked is VERY of the time so beware LMAO

cameron - cutie the kitten (sans' wife and gf) + the killing videos sans fan girls would make. i actually cant link anything bc the channel doesnt exist anymore but! basically back in 2016ish there was this one girl who had such a crush on sans and she had a whole ocxcanon situation with sans and her pink cat oc Cutie. a lot of ppl hated her + the ppl who had ocs shipped with sans but looking back its truly not a big deal. what is a big deal is that she (? maybe?) and other sans fangirls would make animated slideshow videos of their ocs using powers or whatever to kill other sans fangirls. like brutally. it was a wild time i wish cutie's channel was still up so i could prove thats a real thing, but ask an undertale fan from back then and odds are theyll know. heres a sans fangirl cringe compilation so you kinda know what im talking about, but fair warning it is a cringe compilation so. it wont be nice.

thirteen - TW INCEST!! this one hamilton animatic i saw back in forever ago to the song 'helpless'. usually animatics to that song use eliza and hamilton (im not a hamilton fan this is very surface lvl knowledge btw) but the one i saw was eliza and ANGELICA. like as in HER SISTER. big surprise someone in a big fandom ships incest wow I KNOW its tame compared to other shit, but it was i think my first exposure to anything like that circa 2017ish, so it kinda stuck in the brain. also the video i linked isnt the og its a phil collins mashup, the og got taken down. hamilton always makes an appearance in my house posts doesnt it, be lucky i didnt give kutner this one bc ppl were turn up abt hamilton fan kutner.

taub - WHAT DO YALL KNOW ABOUT MIKE AND MELISSA ⁉️⁉️ basically mike and melissa is this animated passion project this guy made to show himself (or his persona? or maybe just some guy) falling in love with his fursona that comes to life. this was the only episode this guy uploaded and i think he kinda disappeared after. the plot is kinda hard to follow and its not TERRIBLY animated but its certainly not professional looking. there's a video about what happened to him uploaded like 5 months ago, but i havent watched it. when i first heard of mike n melissa i fully thought it was a mid 2000s family sitcom but it definitely Is Not That.

kutner - undertale sans au christmas party comic dub. i probably dont need to give an explanation as to what sans aus are but idk how many ex or current undertale fans follow me so i'll do it anyway. making au's for undertale was a pretty common practice back in its early days, and usually the most popular character in any undertale variation is sans. who sans is shipped with was always up in the air, so much like the onceler, ppl ended up shipping sans with other au versions of himself. this christmas party comic is in my mind the undertale fandom equivalent of camp weehawken. i think there was also a sans au comic where all the sans' except for like 2 were toddlers at daycare? i dont remember who the adult sans' were but also i think the creator got into hot water? dont remember why.

[derpycatsu]

hiiii haiii （＾∇＾）!!

u said u wanted more asks/were fine with asks so here i am :0 thought i would ask something fun :]

do u have a list of ur favorite goobers :0? ur favorite little silly guys if u will. the ones that u just want to crush with ur bare hands in the most affectionate way ever. and if u had to, how would u rank them :0? the scale of which u rank them could be anything that u want lol

hope u have fun with this and here’s a cat to keep u company on ur blog (u gotta give them a name) :] : 🐈

HI MATT!!!!!! I LOVE U <3333

OOOH okok let me grab them…

(list for anyone that wants it :) wallace (pokemon), ryan akagi (infinity train), tulip olsen (infinity train), hatsune miku, shad (loz tp), umi sonoda (love live!), howell wizard (bapc), prince gumball (adventure time), wataru hibiki (enstars), vivid bad squad (prsk))

ok i tried to pick like actual characters i like and not just kins LOLLL so i decided to rank them based on how intense my sp/in was! wallace obviously being the first and infinity train second :-D there are some more characters id put up here but image limit U_U. wallace/pokemon being a sp/in for me for a year and a half now and i believe my infinity train sp/in was 10 months? and twilight princess has been around for basically my entire life but its always been an on and off thing

the others would be bee (bapc), vash + wolfwood (trigun), snake + otacon (mgs), mew + pikachu (pokemon), prof sycamore (pokemon), vaati (loz tmc), callie + marie (splatoon). and also every single twilight princess character. and im sure theres more im forgetting… ALSO these arent in any particular order they r kind of all equal to me

but yeas those are my guys.!!!! i love them so much

AND AS FOR THE CAT. im naming it steve minecraft thats his full name

hope u have a great day matt :-D bye bye!!!!!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOOO “let’s not be hateful” I could never because I’m sorry to say but some people deserve the hate..!!! Let’s just say I’ll never gossip or shit talk without good reason….

And FR its not like you can’t enjoy a villain without acknowledging the actual. Yk. Villain parts…like let’s not ignore the pile of corpses Sukuna left behind (as an example)!!! And bro those yuki haters<<<<<< like if you’re thinking that then literally any convo could’ve swayed geto..? I mean those types of topics are bound to pop up someway or another in jujutsu society like it could’ve been anyone….if anything I’d also say that Gojo had more influence on him than yuki like?? But you don’t see people blaming gojo??? Getos character has a lot of potential fs but yeah ugh some parts of the fandom…..

LMFOAOAOA WAIT I WOULD DIE FOR A POV SWITCH MOMENT THATD BE SO FUNNY HAHAHAHA im actually crying the “hot but scary neighbor” is too funny

All the other bllkers being like haha wtf and y/n just face palming….imagine he also comes up with more ridiculous excuses like the high quality honey excuse…”oh sorry my cockatiel needs a root canal” “sorry I need to go drive my sister to an appointment halfway across the country” etc OR he keeps using the same lame excuse like “oh sorry gotta take a shit” and at some point the bllkers convene like damn that man really is full of shit…LMAO I guess he’d only be able to pull that off on the more oblivious members/people who don’t care like Nagi Bachira and Isagi though HAHA I can imagine the moment yuki losing it would make me laugh so hard like calm mature soft spoken yuki finally being like “NO!!! SHE LIKES YOU DUMBASS!!! IS YOUR BRAIN FILLED WITH HAIRWAX???? ITS YOU MF!!!”

Omg wait that’s so annoying…I hope your symptoms get better!!!! Actually I mean you probably don’t have any on you but I’ve found that ginger based candy is really helpful for nauseousness!! I’m not a huge fan of ginger myself but I can usually live with ginger candy!! And it helps with any queasy feelings so if you ever wanna give that a shot…but YAY SWITZERLAND!!! Have fun and enjoy the flight!!! See you on the flip side LMAO

-Karasu anon

i fear i AM a shit talker at heart like i’m super nice 99% of the time but the second someone crosses me or my friends i let loose (although not in public and only w people i trust because i’m not trying to start drama!!) 🤫 it truly is part of the human condition but it has to be done properly…some people go crazy with it and just are plain mean

LITERALLY WHAT I’M SAYING like anything could’ve made him snap at that point ☝🏻 it just so happened to be yuki because she was there but it’s not her fault as such because he was already way too far gone atp…people are always like “she shouldn’t have talked abt something so sensitive when he was obviously spiraling 🥺” HOW TF WOULD SHE KNOW?? maybe he just looks like that all of the time she literally has never met this kid plus i’m sure he’s not the first sorcerer to be depressed 😭 just the first to go crazy

no because IMAGINEEE like reader is all blushy because barou keeps visiting to yell at her and she’s like “oh my god he definitely has a crush on me oh my god he’s so fine he lowkey looks kinda murderous but it’s really attractive actually 😳🤤” meanwhile barou is like “you have 13 minutes to clear that snow off of my driveway before i kill you myself”

PLEASEEE KARASU IS NOTTT ESCAPING THE IBS ALLEGATIONS 😭😭😭 i think the first would def be otoya because karasu wouldn’t even need to make anything up to get that date to happen LMAO and as it goes on the excuses get progressively weirder…like with reo he just says smth like “oh sorry i’m feeling a bit under the weather i can’t make it” but by the time we get to nagi he straight up is just like “bro i’ve been kidnapped let’s do smth another time” and nagi is like “okay 👍” HFKSJSJ yuki is a patient guy but he has his limits 😔 one can only take so much two way pining and ridiculous mishaps before they snap 😰

THANK YOUU 🥹 i have been dealing w reproductive system issues for like foreverrrr my periods are so bad 😩💔 apparently it takes abt three months for your body to adjust to birth control and i’m on like month 3.25 so hoping to see some improvements soon 🫦 the flight wasn’t horrible!! def could’ve been worse…excited to be here finally though!! even if i’m super nauseous still 😓

[seijatachiis]

just another queer journey for pride month

so i figured since its pride month and its been basically a decade since i started my queer journey id just talk about it. especially bc theres been recent changes too!

my name is al and im nonbinary, they/them! mm well im asexual so i guess im technically panromantic? maybe demiromantic? ngl im still not sure but ill get to that. its also been about a year since i met my bf whos a transman and we often talk a lot about gender and sexuality.

like most people my journey started in high school. i had been reading BL fanfics for bands i liked around the end of elementary school and i think i was aware of transmen and transwomen. i really didnt know more than the basics, lesbian/gay/bi/transman/transwomen. someone i met in hs, an old friend, is the one who opened the door. at first obviously he didnt know me so he just told me to call him a very gender neutral sounding name and they/them. and that was the first time i had heard about someone using they/them pronouns. eventually he came out and said no im a trans so he/him? then he was basically like are YOU actually a woman?

obviously im paraphrasing bc honestly i dont remember much from how it started exactly or the exact conversation but i rememer looking into it a little and the next day i said i dont think im really a woman. i started using they/them pronouns and decided i was demigirl. i was kinda a tomboy when i was younger but it was more i just liked pokemon and the boys always had more interesting things but i liked "girly" things a little bit. i never really felt like i wanted or wished i was a man.

it might be because ive been using they/them for so long now but i got used to them quickly and they just felt so right. i didnt really focus too hard on what i identified as tho i was demigirl until uni. i remember this because i met a person who at the time was also demigirl. hes a transman now, which is great. im not sure but at some point in 2019 i think i realized i was nonbinary. i think it mightve happened when- im not out in real life. fear mostly but also bc i dont really care about other people, as long as those i care about know im nonbinary and use they/them i dotn care too much. anyways i remember being on break at work, my boss came in and was talking to my supervisor, just a "hey whats happening today" and was like "is she ready for her aquafit" and im like listening and im like oh whos doing aquafit.

it was me lol. he was talking about me. was so confused bc i dont usually hear people talking about me so i dont hear myself being referred to as she anymore. anyways its really not much to it. i did briefly try he/him in high school and the first time my friend used it i was like nope thats wrong nope.

i dont...think i really experienced gender dysphoria. or body dysphoria. i have issues with my body and an extreme disconnect to it but thats tied more to the general societal standards of beauty and less about my gender?

gender was never really the problem. my sexuality - more specifically if i was aromantic or not, has been the thing ive been struggling with and ive realized i never . solved it yet.

im p sure im panromantic/pansexual whatever, gender doesnt much matter to me bc ive always been more about if we get along. we gotta vibe yknow? the bf and i, our first date... the vibes were there. well i didnt feel the romantic vibes it was more just we definitely get along. im getting sidetracked and this is already super super long.

that same friend asked me if i was aroace. i didnt know what that meant, he explained it and i was like huh. maybe i am? i dont really recall ever having a crush on anyone or liking anyone. ive definitely not had sexual desire for anyone. but i just figured thats bc i havent liked anyone. so yeah i was aroace. a few years later i would rethink that.

because i forgot how insecure i am. and im thinking...there might have been two guys i had a crush on when i was younger but because i knew they'd never like me like that, i pushed the feelings so far down so maybe . maybe im not aro.

ill be honest, its been way too long now - i still dont know if i had a crush on them. but this is because i dont understand what that means. blah blah parental trauma but i had some stunted emotional growth and so im not great at emotions. i would flip flop between am i aro or have i just not met anyone i like yet? because i do have high walls. i dont let people in easily.

but i would daydream about having a partner. but it was never really about me liking them i just wanted them to like ME. i want people to like me. bc it was never the same person, generally whoever showed me a little extra attention that week but then id easily forget them. and i never. really wanted to date them. bc honestly i only ever pictured love confessions, never what itd be like after.

i met my bf on hinge. i fuck around on dating apps mostly bc im bored and wanna bother people, i rarely meet up with them i just spout some new random facts and im intentionally being weird. so i swiped on him first bc he had some nonsense in his profile i wanted to debate about. he said hey we're kinda hitting it off do you wanna go on a date? i said sure lets go to the thrift shop bc i was looking for a gift for my friend when i went to visit her in europe in a few weeks lol. i was really just using him for a ride to the thrift shop bc i dont own a car.

my god we hit it off and i remember thinking "id love to be friends with him hes so cool and fun to be around". i think it had to be a dating app. i dont think id ever have gotten a partner otherwise, because you kinda go into dating apps with the intention to find romance (unless you're me). he knows this but i didnt actually start to like him romantically till AFTER we started dating. i had to think very hard about it, im not entirely sure if this is what romantic feelings are supposed to feel like - i have to assume they are.

but we're happy and i had to do a lot of thinking to determine if i love him but i can say now for sure i love him. but idk if i can call that timeline long enough to really say im demi-romantic? idk if theres a specific time limit, maybe i am. it definitely took hm since we first met uh two months before i really started to like him romantically which honestly sounds normal to me.

so yeah thats not quite resolved but i dont care to find anyone else. but then. then comes the asexuality part. i originally way back in hs was like yeah im ace. whilst debating my aro problems i kinda always figured once i liked someone id probably be sexually attracted to them too. i get horny, surely that means im not ace.

yeah. i learned thats not the case. since sexuality is about being sexually attracted to a person, you can get Horny but not be sexually attracted to anyone. i put so much research into asexuality. a lot. it caused me more stress than anything i think bc now i had to tell him. that was . very anxiety inducing bc the first time i tried to tell him i nearly got a panic attack. this is knowing he'd be totally fine with it too, that he'd be accepting.

im just. not that interested in sex. i get horny but i dont really do much about it. i read smut bc its fun and bc its easier to deal with angsty fics when theres smth to distract you lol. CANT HURT ME IF THERES DICK TO FOCUS ON!!

i wont rule out that i might be demisexual. i might change my mind, i might not. i know my bf accepts me either way. but yeah thats my queer journey. its mostly me thinking. because i dont really have any experience with anything, im not a social person lol. but i also dont understand emotions and feelings all too well, so thinking only really got me so far. i always learned better by doing.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading! im always open to making new friends so i think my dms are open or whatever it is, but yeah :3

[jessiescock]

lion king franchise media only works if the lions are sexy. the cg realism takes were always destined to be dogshit bc they don’t seem to understand this core principle. Allow me to illustrate my point:

now the first movie is obviously very good, the lions are very sexy. so many characters who inspired a sexual or romantic awakening for their hordes of devoted fans. phenomenal movie, not exactly a hot take i know.

now the second movie tho, many ppl really like it even tho it is pretty bland and forgettable on its own, and very bad in its function as a sequel. that doesn’t matter tho because everyone wants to fuck Kovu. Everyone loves this awful movie bc they’re so got dam horny for the edgy hot topic emo lion. I would even argue that horny kovu fans are this movie’s most notable long-term impact on pop culture. So while it’s not a particularly outstanding film, it’s reasonably popular in its own right, fondly remembered by many, and did manage to have at least some kind of lasting cultural impact. all thanks to the sexy lion.

There isn’t really much to say about the third movie. it’s not even 80 minutes long, most people probably don’t even know it exists. I would say that it’s stupid and unnecessary and that no one asked for a Timon and Pumbaa backstory, but the scenes about them parenting Simba are actually really cute and funny and heartwarming and i’m glad that we have those. Once again, the sexy lion (im talking about adult simba here!!!) saves the otherwise pretty unremarkable movie from irrelevance and disdain. We’re starting to see a pattern emerge here.

Ok what else is there. There’s the Timon and Pumbaa TV show from the 90s. I gotta admit i didn’t really watch much of that, but i’ve been told that it’s funny. I also know they have Simba show up sometimes. Put a pin in that.

Ofc i can’t not mention the absolutely phenomenal live action version that offers a refreshing new take on a beloved classic: the stage musical. absolutely phenomenal both as a piece of theatre and as an adaption no notes. Ofc the lion characters in this one are also very sexy. With these last two examples tho it’s starting to look like the sexy lions are not necessarily the sole reason for lion king media to be good, but there’s definitely a connection here.

I didn’t watch Lion Guard because it’s a show for babies, but i know several kids who really like the show and it seems to be successful enough. Here again we have Simba being present as a character, and while I don’t have any hard evidence on this one I’m willing to bet that there’s a substantial amount of kids who have/had a crush on Kion. So I’ll say this one also fits into my theory here.

The stupid fucking 2019 CG remake exists purely as an afterthought to the original 1994 movie and has zero redeeming qualities. All the characters including the lions look absolutely awful. They don’t even look that realistic, like have you ever seen a real lion? they look a million times cooler than those awful soulless beasts. Understandably enough I have not seen anyone being even remotely horny for those vile creatures. And that’s quite a remarkable feat considering they got fuckin Beyoncé and Donald Glover as Nala and Simba. I think if they’d just used footage of real lions and let them do a voiceover over that, there would have been some freaks who get off on that. Maybe there’s someone out there who wants to fuck CG Simba, but as someone who seeks out a lot of lion king content and spent way too much time hatereading reactions to the 2019 movie, i have thankfully never encountered them. This awful awful movie may have brought in a lot of money to its greedy corporate overlords, but it has had zero cultural impact. Sure when it was announced and eventually released everyone had a lot to say about it (mostly about how much it fucking sucked) but as soon as the novelty wore off everyone just forgot about it. I have watched this movie and there’s not a single scene from it that i can even remotely clearly recall. There were some memes about how awful it all looked when it was new but those all quickly went away again. I don’t think there’s anyone who enjoys this movie without at least some kind of connection to the original. Yea it made a lot of money and stirred up some controversy but now 5 years later no one gives a shit about it anymore. and there’s no sexy lions anywhere to be found.

[nightcoremoon]

spiderman 3 wasn’t bad because of bully maguire

spiderman 3 was bad because it was a chopped up incoherent mess of conflicting ideas, tones, GENRES.

TW rape mention. yes, really.

sandman and harry would have been good. sandman and venom would have been good. harry and venom would have been good. and all three at once could even have been done satisfactorily. but together it was a horrible disaster. none of them had their time to shine. flint was a magnificent way to tie into the first movie. harry was a magnificent way to end his character arc. topher grace, much as I love him, was horribly miscast for eddie brock. venom, fine, but not eddie. tom hardy played both well. but I think hardy is a much stronger actor than grace. one played charley fucking bronson and the other played eric fucking foreman. y’all gotta know your reaches! but anyway it’s fine I guess. it made for a decent viewing in no way home (which I have my own laundry list of gripes about). but even then, that’s not the biggest problem with the movie. and no, the emo peter wasn’t a problem either (it actually makes perfect sense for his character; it’s what peter himself thinks is cool, not what actually is cool). and NO it wasn’t wasting dr connors not once not thrice but TWICE.

the SECOND biggest problem is with the editing.

ok so individual scenes look passable to… beautiful. the introduction of sandman is obviously the highlight of the film. it was a very important pioneer for graphics design technology, and in my mind it’s probably the single most important thing in the history of making cgi look true to life (for all of its glory… and all of its horror). all of the fight scenes are well choreographed, visually stunning, and advanced the plot somehow. all of the character defining scenes were well done save for one character in particular who I will discuss momentarily. the scenes are good in their own rights. but they’re out of order. peter dancing in the street looking like dahvie vanity was not supposed to happen after supposedly killing uncle ben’s murderer, it was SUPPOSED to happen after getting the job over brock. and everything else was nonsensically crammed together like tetris sardines. it RUINED the pacing. there is a 40 minute period where venom does not appear or speak, and he is supposed to be the main villain of the movie. that’s the second biggest problem.

the biggest problem is Mary Jane.

Kirsten Dunst did as good a job as she could with the material she was given. but what is her character arc in each movie? be the love interest who needs to be saved from everything all the time. that’s it. the green goblin is attacking and MJ is in danger, Peter rescues her and she gets a crush on him. those rape dudes are attacking (told you) and MJ is in danger, Peter rescues her. they kiss. oh no the green goblin is attacking AGAIN, MJ is in danger AGAIN and Peter rescues her AGAIN and she falls in love with him. and so on. all she exists to do in these movies is get kidnapped and make peter’s spider dick hard. it is such a damn shame that those movies happened before the feminists really pushed to have women with agency in films and books and video games and stuff. remind me what aunt may did in these movies again? or gwen, or betty, or… anyone who was female? contrast with the amazing spidermans and the mcu spidermans. AND SPIDERVERSE. totally different beast there.

MJ’s character is unlikable, peter’s character does shitty things that make him temporarily unlikable, and their dynamic together is very… bland. you could cut MJ from 2 and 3 very easily and still potentially have a cohesive movie. raimi has strengths and he has weaknesses and his weakness is ingrained subconscious misogyny. oops. we expected better from the man whose claim to fame was a movie where a tree rapes a woman? 🤔 yeahhhh I don’t like evil dead 1. 2 and 3, good and phenomenal, but 1 is like. :/

so it’s nothing to do with the easy answers and it’s everything to do with the director is a little weird and Sony has never made a good business decision in its life.

[worworwol]

How do I look away now that I have seen you?

RACHEL MENNIES, from “April 18, 2017” - The Naomi Letters

01.02.2023

Hello, I am back sooner than the previous updates not like I promised to but like I wanted to. My period is over, so I am more emotionally stable but I am not at my “normal” per se. My normal is not like another person’s normal, I think everyone’s “normal” is special to them to be honest, my normal is when I am not plagued with thoughts of killing myself every second of the day, getting out of bed and socializing doesn’t require too much effort, and I feel stable, not happy, not sad, basically feeling nothing all the time. It is not like numbness either, it is indifference. I spent most of my life like this so far, at least when I am not in a depressive episode, so it became my normal. Isn’t that what normal is anyways, the majority of something? Anyway, I am stuck in this awful state between depression and “normal”. I don’t think of killing myself all the time, but it still haunts me like a predator after its prey, I feel sad and lonely not to the extent when it is when I am in an episode but it’s still there, I feel numb but I also feel too much. It is awful, I hate being like this. I would say I hate the person I am, but I am not sure if I am even a person. I more like a shadow, a reflection; it is there but it is not the original, it would be nothing without the original, just seizing to exist. Even the language I use to describe my thoughts is not my original language, that’s how made up I am. It is also a way to distance myself from what I feel and think, essentially disassociating. Or it is not, and I just see my actions as so important that I psychoanalyze everything because I have narcissistic tendencies.

Last time I extensively talked about my crush so it is only fair to give updates. To cut it short one of my friends talked to him in private and asked if he is interested in anyone or think anyone is interested in him. I don’t know what he specifically said, I don’t even know what my friend asked precisely but the friend said that he is getting over his crush and not really ready to be in a relationship yet. You might say this is not the end of this, that’s what my friends said as well. That this is a good opportunity for us to spend more time with each other and get to know each other better. That maybe he will fall for me in time and get over his crush while. And a rational or confident person would agree but I am neither of those things. He is clearly not over this crush so he won’t be able to feel anything for me. Even if he does feel something, who is to say that I am not just a distraction or replacement? I didn’t think he would feel something for me in the first place because I am not lovable but I still hoped and yearned for it knowing it was a low possibility. Now I can’t even hope because it is basically impossible. It would be best for me and for our friend group if I just got over it but how do I look away now that I’ve seen the beauty and the potential he has? How can I just bury everything I feel and move on as if nothing happened, at least for me? When I see something, a potential, a sparkle, something, I obsess over it because I don’t know how to survive otherwise if I don’t have the motivation to go after something or someone, to pursue. Maybe what I am feeling is not even love or like, but a kind of obsession. But that realization doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how to get rid of it. I feel so hopeless and drained, so void of any kind of wisdom or control. So pathetic and stupid.

Other than that my break is going busy but good. I am hanging out with my friends and family. Even though the family part is mostly draining than anything there being no school and my friends make it bearable. I got my wisdom teeth removed today so that sucks but you gotta do what you gotta do. I don’t have any ache but it hurts even when I swallow. I’ll be fine in a few days. Today is also the first day of February! I can’t believe one twelfth of the year is gone already. Not like I expect anything from this year, I’ve quit doing that a long time ago. It’s just that the fact that time is relative to everyone even though it’s a measured quantity always amazed me. Physics is really fun when it comes to these kinds of subjects, but only then. I hate it with a passion other times. I think this is it for this post. Thank you for reading if anyone is reading to it. I’ll see you in the next post!

[peterthepark]

can you do a blurb where the reader is really shy about talking about sex and her kinks and peter is like a little shit and cocky and is like “you gotta use your words to tell me what you want” and the reader is all flustered??

sorry this took me 500 years to get to </3 mentions of smut and stuff under the cut!

-

Its not that Peter Parker wasn’t experienced in sex, but he wasn’t experienced in ‘sex sex.’ Countless hours of watching porn late at night just wasn’t going to help. It was all fake to him: the pitched-up moans, the faux facial expressions of an orgasm, holding men and women to unrealistic standards, the horrible acting and unconvincing sex positions.

But somehow, it all looked so satisfying.

Slapping a hand across someone’s ass. Spitting on someone’s face. Having someone ride his thigh.

Roleplaying. Edging.

Being in control. Giving over his control.

Maybe porn was fake. But he did know one thing.

He needed something real, which is how both of you ended up on the couch at two in the morning. What should’ve been an innocent night of playing video games together as roommates suddenly turned into an informative, tipsy discussion of each other’s sex lives.

“I mean, what do you like?” You quirk a brow at Peter, taking a short sip from your wine glass. His brown eyes never leave your face, wandering over the blemishes and the expanse of your neck that looked oh-so-enticing.

“Me?” You scoff as he swirls his beer around. “I don’t know, I guess a lot of things.”

“Y/N,” He chuckles, nudging your thigh with his foot. “I know damn well you have kinks. Almost everyone has one. Weird or not, it’s totally acceptable.”

“No, I — I suppose. It’s just that…” You rub your arm nervously, focusing on the frayed threads of Peter’s shirt. “The guys I get with don’t seem that into them.”

“Okay? And your point is?”

You shrug. “Dunno.”

He sighs, a cheeky grin forming across his pink lips.

“I bet I can guess all of them.” You hold his challenging gaze, struggling to come to a conclusion when he splays his hand out on a pillow and you study how his long digits flex in front of you. “Hands.”

“What?” You choke out, eyes bulging out of your head.

He lifts his palms up, giving you a full display of his slender fingers and how large they are compared to yours.

“You haven’t stopped staring at them since I picked up that controller.”

This is a bad idea.

“Fine. That’s one.”

Peter smirks in amusement, tapping his chin in thought. “Mmm…” A dry laugh escapes him, and you quickly avoid eye contact because you just know he has you figured out at this point. “Hands usually lead to choking. Or spanking. Hair pulling. Do you like any of those, Y/N?”

“I don’t, uh…”

“S’okay. Don’t need to disclose if you don’t want to.”

Fuck it.

The words leave you quietly. Almost too quiet, because Peter doesn’t hear you the first time. “It’s choking.”

“Oh? What was that?”

Subconsciously, your bodies have shifted closer together. His leg is basically pressed against yours, skin against skin in the hot air of your shared apartment.

“C-Choking.”

“How so?”

You wince. “You’ve never choked anyone? You don’t know what I mean?”

A stomached laugh vibrates through him, shoulders twitching as he presses his lips together. “I don’t usually go choking girls around as a day job, Y/N.”

“Don’t know how to describe it then.”

His hand raises, and you lock eyes. “Is it okay if you show me? Show me how girls like it, just so I know for whenever I have someone over?”

“You’re a dick.” You laugh wryly.

“Is that a yes? You really gotta learn to use your words.”

This absolute bastard. Cocky.

You nod rapidly. This wasn’t supposed to be awkward. You and Peter as roommates meant you shared more than a living space, but with the growing crush you’ve acquired towards him, physical contact seems more intimidating more than anything.

“Yes, Pete.”

His fingers slowly wrap around your throat, feeling the muscle bob beneath his touch as he presses on your pulse points carefully.

“Is this how you like it?”

You gulp. And it takes Peter everything in him not to smile at the nervousness in your doe-eyed, lusted gaze.

“Yes.”

“Tighter?” His voice is a breathy whisper, raspy and low as he surveys your features. Another nod. “I’ve never choked a girl before. Ever.”

“Really?”

He smiles, using his other hand to brush your hair back away from your face.

“Yeah, just grateful you’re the first.”

[poppy-metal]

"The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.”

A/N: im placing this before the sexual side of their relationship begins. A prelude of sorts, if you will.

Cw: voyeurism, smut, dekus secretly dirty mouth.

All things considered izuku’s room was...not as gross as you expected a staple college aged guys dorm room to be. It was cluttered but not disgusting, posters of comics and figurines and manga and some clothes strewn about, everything kind of frenzied and haphazard. It was so incredibly deku, a secret smile pulled at your lips, even though your reasons for being here were less than innocent

He’s wearing fucking pink. Because of course he is, of course izuku is humble and comfortable in his masculinity enough to pull off a bright pink t-shirt. It hugs his chest too, and you have to wonder if literally any of his clothes fit him and the tits he decided to grow in college. His image is so utterly imposing, his smile so bright, and laugh so airy, it sends butterflies flipping through your stomach at just the sight of him and that makes you want to vomit. Your lips curl in a sneer and you’re walking towards him and the group of friends he’s talking to as if on reflex. 

Stupid, lovely deku. You knock your shoulder into his as you pass, hard enough that his books clatter and fall to the floor, scattering. And then those green eyes are on you, giving you his attention and your body feels alive, your blood cells buzzing under your skin even as he frowns. The dimples on his freckled face fall as he takes you in. Yes, you think, look at me, see me, want me. 

Out loud you say. “Watch where you’re going, stupid deku” and you’re looking at him like he’s the dirt under your shoe. He’s not. He’s the center of your universe. Your world tilts around his axis. “Pink isn’t your fucking color by the way”. it is. 

Izuku huffs. He’s past the point where he used to turn as red as a tomato and duck his head whenever you stood in front of him, but he’s still deku at the end of the day. An easy target. “If looking at me bothers you so much you could just ignore me.” He crouches down to pick up his things. His words make you itch, if you could ignore him, you wouldn’t fucking be here. Its because he exists too much, that you want to push him down so much. 

You step your manicured foot onto his notebook right as he’s about to grab it. He tugs at it, you dont budge, and he looks up at you, exasperated. “Can i have my notebook, please?” 

Why is he so fucking pretty? God, you want to throw up. You dig your heel in further, covering the flutter you feel in your chest with a practiced sneer. “I like the way you say please, deku.” You lean down a little, “Say ‘your highness’ and i’ll move” 

It’s a thrill, seeing the way his jaw sets, his brow furrows, his eyes go annoyed. Sweet, sweet, friendly izuku. You’re the only one he looks at like this, like he wants to throttle you. But he won’t. You see his adams apple bob, his cheeks dust pink, even as he glares. “No” 

You pause. It’s not the first time he’s gotten snippy with you, but the conviction behind it is new. You feel something in your stomach give a jump, your blood thrumming in your ears. You jerk your foot towards you, sliding his notebook out from his hands and standing completely on top of it with both your feet now. Your sticky lips, glossy and plump, spread into a mocking grin, “No? Do i need to slam you into some lockers and take you lunch money?” You feel a thousand feet tall, towering above him still kneeling, you on the high ground, looking down at him below you, where he can’t reach you. Can’t ever see the truth. “C’mon pansy, you’re already on your knees anyway” 

But he isn’t anymore. He jerks to a stand, and now he’s taller than you, but you puff your chest out, not letting that affect you. It always affects you. Not that he knows or ever notices. Your eyes are widening when he steps forward so you’re practically nose to nose and chest to chest. “I don’t have time for you” he snaps, irritated. And then he’s stepping away as suddenly as he stepped up, the rest of his things gathered in his arms, he shakes his head at you, a tendril of that mossy mousey hair falling into his eyes. “I gotta get to class” 

And then he’s gone, brushing by you, disengaging. You stand there, your breath stuck in your chest, not moving. ‘I dont have time for you’ over and over again rings through your head like a mantra. You step off his notebook robotically and kick it across the floor. It bangs against a wall and you feel your fists clench, nail beds digging into your palms harshly. ‘I dont have time for you’ 

You turn on your heel, away from the direction of your class, fury blinding you. Anger in place of humiliation, vindication in place of being humbled. You don’t know what crawled up his ass and made him think he was above you all the sudden, but you weren’t having it, not the fuck at all. 

And that’s how you found yourself snooping through izukus dorm, with the intention of finding some kind of dirt, or something to hold over his stupid head. He didn’t have time for you? How dare he act like he was better than you, like he had things more important to do than to indulge you. You were still so mad you wanted to throw a tantrum, kick and scream and claw his eyes out. Straddle his stupid broad waist and shake him until all he saw was you, you, you. 

You really hated him. Hated that because of him you were basically a bully because any attention from him was attention you thrived and lived under. Maybe if you weren’t so prideful, so disgusted by the weakness of your own gooey emotions for him, you would have tried to be the center of his attention in a nicer way, but as it was you were in too deep. This was the sick game you played, and losing wasn’t an option. 

You hated how much that made you similar to bakugou in a way. You didn’t like that guy, and even weirdly so, you wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for the way he treated and talked to izuku. Was it jealousy or possesivness that drove you to want to be the only one who could rile izuku? You wondered, sometimes, if bakugou felt the same way about you. 

It was the loss of control, for you. Better yet, it was the way you liked the loss of that control. You had always prided yourself on being strong willed and a perfectionist. But whenever your eyes so much as grazed izukus, all your emotions went rattling around your stomach in sick twisted ways, giving you goosebumps, making you...nervous. It was a crush that had turned into an obsession, wasn’t it? And you wanted to make izuku suffer not only for invoking those messy feelings, but for not seeming to return them as well. If he couldn’t love you or want you romantically or sexually, you’d force yourself onto his radar and into his head until thinking about anyone else was impossible. Until you squirmed under his skin as much as he squirmed under yours. 

Acting like you didnt exist was unacceptable. Obviously you’d slacked off on your taunts and actions, if he could just brush past you so easily, not taking your bait. You needed to even the playing field again, and by even you meant you needed to be towering above him again. 

Towering over him so you dont have the time to think about how much you want to be under him, your mind whispers at you as you pick through his room, trying to find anything incripting. Someone like izuku would probably have something utterly embarrassing like a diary or some weird porn magazines, shameless, helpless guy that he was. 

You huff as you open his drawer next to his bedside, nearly slamming it back shut in shock at what you see there. 

You’re not stupid. You’re a healthy, young woman with an active sexual imagination and access to the world wide web, to porn. 

Izuku has a fleshlight in his drawer. Izuku has a sexytoy. Izuku. And its green. 

Izuku has a sex toy that he probably uses. That he probably sticks his cock into and moves- 

An absurd laugh barks out of you, shocked and helpless. Because while in your head you knew izuku had to be some kind pervert, what other explanation was there for the way he blushed and darted his gaze around like a ping pong ball whenever you leaned forward and get caught a glimpse under your blouse, this is...unexpected. Imagining izuku in explicit scenarios, doing lewd things, it was something you didn’t allow your mind to wonder to often over. You didn’t like the way you got all squirmy and meek whenever you thought too long about izuku without clothes. 

You feel kind of squirmy now, hot and uncomfortable as you shift around and try to gather your wits back about you. Revenge, that’s what you’re here for. 

With a shaky exhale you turn away from his dresser, your thoughts flitting around your head like annoying gnats. What, who, does he think about when he…? What does he look like? What does his...c- You shake your head, slap your cheeks, trying to center yourself from the images floating around, flustering you and distracting you. 

You’re in the middle of lifting the covers on his bed to peek under it, see if there’s anything there, when you hear the handle on his door jiggle. You freeze, every muscle in your body locked frozen like a deer in headlights as the knob twists, and then catches. Right. You’d picked the lock with one of your hair clips and then made sure to lock it again behind you just in case something like this happened. And by the, “Ugh” on the other side of the door, yep that’s definitely izuku. You’re shoved out of your shocked state, and bolting for his closet door as you hear the jingle of his keys twist in the lock, trying your best to close the door as quietly as possible behind you, it swishing shut barely a second before the door to his dorm opens and you hear him step in. 

Class must have let out early or something, you think huffily, gently rearranging yourself into a comfortable position on a pile of his clothes as he shuffles around his room. You hear the thumb of him dropping his books, the shuffle of his feet, the clutter of him taking off his shoes and the squeak of his mattress as he plops down on it. 

You tuck your knees to your chest and roll your eyes, picking at your leggings as you wonder how long you’ll have to hide before he goes to the bathroom or something so you can leave. It’s fucking stuffy in his closet already, the air hot. Your hand touches the soft fabric beneath you, realizing you’re sitting on one of his hoodies. Its too dark to see which one it is, but you imagine it as your favorite red one. Maybe you’d steal it as compensation for him making you sit and wait in his dumb closet while he probably stared at the ceiling with no thoughts in his dumb brain.

You hear him sigh, loud and dramatic, and then a muffled scream/groan into his pillow. Your lips twitch, he’s such a fucking drama queen. 

Your little smile drops off your face when you hear the sound of his drawer opening.  

Oh god. Oh no. 

Your face feels like there are embers burning under it as you hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shucked, a zipper and and then flop, and then….a slick wet sound and a sigh of relief. 

Your eyes feel like they are bugging out of your head. Izuku is really about to fuck his fleshlight with you hiding in his closet with him none the wiser. You feel suddenly embarrassed and hot all over, hiding your face in your knees as you hear him let out a moan. A loud one. 

You’re on fire, every part of you. You don’t think you can take this, don’t think you can sit through this and listen to this, think you should just burst out of his closet and use your bravado to somehow flip the situation and make him feel humiliated for getting off in the privacy of his own room, like he’s in the wrong even though you had violated so many boundaries for even being here right now. 

You could do it too, you know. You’re good at twisting things, at powering through the complicated mess of flustered feelings izuku makes you feel and making it his fault, making him back down and cower. You could do it...you’re uncurling your legs and pushing your hands under you in the middle of getting up to do so when- 

“Fuck. ___” Your name. You freeze, for an unholy, goldy second you think you’ve been caught, that he has acquired x-ray vision and has spotted you but no. His voice isn’t surprised or upset its...breathless, airy. He moaned it. 

The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.

Heat immediately shoots between your legs, your core throbbing unbidden in reflex to the sound, helpless to stop it, to have any other reaction. Your ass plops right back down. You turn slightly towards the door, pressing your side against it, your ear smooshed against the cool wood as you listen, as if drawn under a spell. 

“You’re such…” You hear izuku pant, his voice deeper and more rough then you’ve ever heard it before. “A fucking brat” 

Wet between your legs, seeping through your panties at his words, seemingly ripped out of him. God, he sounds pissed, wrecked. He cursed. You’ve never heard izuku curse before, never, even when you’d pushed him too far. Something really was different about today. 

The slick sounds are more frequent now, steady and...and sounding like real sex you’d heard from porn before. Wet, sloppy, and slapping. Your knees knock together as you lean forward even more. There’s an invisible string pulling, tugging you forward, you want to see…

“Fucking slut” He grunts, and there’s a heavy slap, your breath catching in your fucking throat as you realize that...that must be the clap of his balls hitting the back of his fleshlight everytime he thrusts into it. “Always running your fucking mouth, looking down at me, so mean, you’re so fucking mean to me…uh..” 

The sounds of sex fill the room and you can’t take it anymore, you’re burning, burning, burning, fuck the consequnces. You hesitantly and slowly turn the handle of the closet door, letting it slide open just a crack, enough for you to peek through, to get a glimpse.

His lean muscular back is the first thing you see, he’s facing directly away from his closet, thank god but oh god, that means you see..so much. The flex of his shoulder blades under his tan skin, the smattering of freckles over his shoulder, the long slender slope of his spine as it curves down his broad back, the dimbles at the bottom of his spine, flexing as he fucks his toy. His ass, because of course izuku would have a perfect round bubble butt. There are freckles there too. 

Your eyes skate down, hungry to his large and heavy balls, low hanging and full, currently smacked right up against the base of the little pocket pussy he’s practically straddling on his bed. 

It hits you again than, that deku is imagining that toy is you, he’s imagining fucking you in this position on his bed right now, imagining its your cunt hes pounding into, and your face he’s spitting those filthy words at. 

Your hand is really moving without your permission when it slips under the band of your leggings into your panties, fingers immediately dipping between the slick folds of your pussy, silky and wet. 

“-Wet” Izuku grunts, as you dip a finger just barely inside. “Fuck, i knew you’d be so fucking soft and good inside. Such a bratty girl would have a sweet cunt attached to her, huh?” 

Fuck, where and when did izuku start speaking like this? His soft voice curling around such crude words is making you gush all over your fingers. You wish you could see the kind of face he was making when he said them. 

“Yeah, you like taking my cock don’t you, baby?” He croons and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine he’s speaking directly into your ear, behind you. His thrusts get heavier, rougher, he lifts his leg up on the bed and you see a flash of the little green toy being fucked on his cock, big and angry looking. He’s being so brutal, hammering the thing down on his dick as he hips rut to meet every downward tug. “Milk it. Milk my fucking cock you whore. Wanna- fuck, wanna hear you say my name when you cum, want you to know who’s pouding that little pussy. The loser you fucking hate, yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

Yes, you whimper in your head in answer to him, your fingers curling deep, deep, inside, fucking yourself on them in earnest. He’s so big and you only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. Enough to know he’d fucking cleave you apart if he tried to fit that monster between his legs inside your tight little pussy. But you want it, god you fucking want it. You wanna feel him splitting you open, making you cream around him, making you beg for it. Making you bleed. 

“One of these day” he says, his voice breathless but steady, even as it cracks. You know he’s close. “I’m gonna fucking snap. Im going to make you look me in the fucking eye and apologize for making me want you, and then im going to split that pussy open- fuck, im coming, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do you understand, b-bitch? Gonna fucking make you mine, yeah, take it, take your senpais cock you dirty fucking girl, ah!” 

He slumps forward, hips humping into the toy and balls spasming as he pumps it full of his cum, shuddering deeply with little aborted whimpers. “Good girl, good girl” he pants, trailing off, giving one last little jerk of his hips before stilling. 

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. You pull your sticky fingers out of your cunt and shuffle back into the dark of the closet, curling in on yourself as izuku lays there, panting heavily for a few moments before moving. 

You stay stock still as you hear him get up and shuffle around, his footsteps padding into the bathroom where you hear the door click softly shut. You spring up to your feet and don’t care if you make noise as you dart out of his room and into the hallway, sprinting like a bat out of hell as you make you way to the girls dorms.

You’ll think about how to reevaluate and recoup later. Right now you just really need to get to your bed so you can rut pathetically onto your own fingers and imagine izukus fat dick breaking you open. Never in a million years did you think he had those kinds of feelings for you, and you know it changes the whole game, is a whole other level of playing field where you now know he wants you on a physical level. 

You feel powerless and lie you’re slipping again, don’t know how you’re going to point your finger at him and laugh when you know for every insult you throw his way, is another way hes fucking his toy at night, adding it as another thing to get you back for. If he ever snaps. 

If. you want it to be a when, so bad, not an if. 

You’ll make it a when. You’ll push him off the metaphorical cliff he’s teetering on to make it so. 

. 

[hungerpunch]

as the resident VB connoisseur I would love to know your opinion on his dynamic with Guanyu. I see a lot of hero worship, soft dom/sub potential there. In general its nice to see someone so openly in awe of valtteri

anon plsss i read this and put it in my mental soup pot to stew for several hours, considering it. i really like guanyu and, you're right, he's been so openly complimentary of valtteri. from the outside looking in, it looks like vb is doing a good job of balancing the fact that they are innately competitors with being a mentor. it seems to me that while socializing on the grid is not necessarily a priority for valtteri, it is important to him to actively help cultivate a positive environment for guanyu. i respect that bc i feel similarly in my daily life: my circle is small, but it's small so that i can put all my energy into tending it very well. i can't imagine how nervous/scared guanyu was entering the f1 arena for the first time, i can only imagine how scared i would be, and separately and apart from my love & appreciation of vb, i'm extremely grateful that his new team and teammate have been welcoming. i hope that despite all the DNFs and inconsistency w/ alfa romeo's cars, he'll be able to look back and say that his rookie year was a good experience.

sorry i'm getting away from the point.

i think their dynamic deserves much inspection bc it is so multi-layered. on the surface, they seem to fit well bc they are both relatively calm, even-tempered, respectful, and focused on their jobs. but underneath that we know that they are really goofy, as evidenced by their respective social media, and i think they probably understand each other's sense of humor. we know they each have interests besides racing that they are passionate about and though those interests are different, differences tend to serve as complements in a healthy relationship.

one moment that has stuck with me since seeing it was during the pitstop podcast when guanyu admitted he's already thought about where he would take valtteri to eat if they visited shanghai. like he's already daydreamed about showing vb around his city ;_; bc he likes vb and wants to spend time n share experiences with him. that's so cute bro.

taking their dynamic into a dom/sub space is a new consideration for me! i'll put it under a cut

i think when i start considering relationships from a bdsm perspective, i generally find that i take a kernel of something to serve as the core. if i were gonna do that with these two, it would be this:

the fact that guanyu posted this on both twitter & weibo, and captioned it differently on weibo in his first language... don't even talk to me. he's not ready to be vulnerable where vb could see and understand it but he's gotta speak his truth somehow!!! haven't we all been there with a crush? extremely relatable, babe.

and maybe that's the heart of it! guanyu didn't know what to expect, meeting valtteri, besides perhaps professional courtesy. he didn't expect to be seen, considered, and treated so equally! he didn't expect valtteri to notice how nervous he was before his first f1 race and to take time out to calm him down. and we all know that the recipe for imprinting on someone is to: a) be removed of your usual comforts and support b) experience a high intensity of pressure c) that someone shows you an unexpected kindness when you really need it. i feel like we've all been there, about to break down in tears because a random stranger was nice to us on a bad day. you really feel that shit hit, right? like idk you but i'm more grateful for you than anyone else in this world right now.

and that was just their beginning. now, valtteri's been a lighthouse in the storm for many many months. a calming touch point after frantic races, poor results. always there with a word of comfort, to pump him back up after he's been deflated, always a big hand on his shoulder or patting his back. the first time guanyu curls in and turns the gesture into a hug instead, he's sort of shocked at himself, but even more shocked at how valtteri reciprocates the hug without hesitation.

guanyu feels like he'll remember that first hug for the rest of his life. wants it all the time, the feeling of valtteri's chest against his, wrapped in his arms. on bad days, dreams about it ending with a forehead kiss. on worse days, hamstrung by homesickness and the pressure of his first year, dreams about it ending with a mouth kiss. it's not an instant physical attraction, but a gradual one, where one day guanyu realizes he's staring at the patch of grey whiskers in valtteri's beard while he talks and identifies that the itch he feels is the urge to touch it. he feels guilty and embarrassed by that, tries not to think about it too much, but it's undeniably baked into his brain. how he thinks of valtteri as a guiding hand, a steady presence, a calming voice of reason. qualities that he wants to consume, that he wants to embody, that he wants to be submerged in.

and i think of valtteri as such a competent, focused soft dom. he sees guanyu responding to his advice, engaging with his questions, turning shy at valtteri's praise. he knows, he's familiar with the type of person who has all the makings of greatness but is still too young to realize their own power, too young to feel much besides lost. and feeling lost is never nice. valtteri knows. he wants to make him feel better.

idk where i'm ultimately going with this but i think the image i'm conjuring in my mind is of a late night, after a race that yielded mediocre results, they've met up for a drink. in a dark bar. guanyu has expressed frustration, insecurity. the bar is emptying out. it's late. the bartender abandons his post to fetch more stock from the backroom and so, free of watchful eyes, valtteri dares to reach out, card his fingers through guanyu's silky-soft hair. "you're doing good," he says, lowly. guanyu sort of froze at the touch, and now his eyes drop from valtteri's. "i'm serious," valtteri continues. "you're doing a great job. everyone can see it."

and guanyu swallows hard, tries to fight his blush. because valtteri has said so little, but it means so much, and the truth is that he would follow that reassuring voice anywhere. especially to a bedroom.

[chocosvt]

love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you. 

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But  this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes,  as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[  9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than  fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was  able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout  sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,”  you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

[virtual-insanity28]

idk if anyones requested this already but if not! can you do a pt.2 to the glamrocks confessing to a gn! reader but with the girls + moon? :)

F!Glamrocks + Moon x Reader HCs

actually, you were the first one to request that! i’m surprised, you shyers lol, but thank you nonetheless, anon!

apologies that these are shorter, though(especially Moondrop‘s since I don’t know a lot about his “fandom character”-)! i’m in a bit of writers block…

Chica

Chica is the equivalence of an obsessed fandom. With how she wants to give you everything pre and post relationship, its like she is brainwashed by you.

She is a mother hen, no doubt about it. Always by your side, helping you if you get hurt, feeding you a variety of foods even if it isn’t the healthiest…Chica acts sincere but protective.

She doesn’t need anybody telling her what she feels, mostly because she knows that she likes you even before she got to know you. After that fateful day of seeing you stare at her as she played her guitar, it is like she experienced a human emotion for the first time.

Every day, every hour, every second, she is always thinking of something that you might want, but due to her limitations inside the Pizzaplex, she only daydreams of you enjoying everything you want. Sometimes, she requests for the night guard on shift to buy said items just so she can give it to you and see you happy.

And remember, this stuff happens BEFORE she confesses to you. Being kind to her friends is just her way of showing her love!

She pulls you into one of the restaurants of her zone, and pats the high stool besides her. The smile lifting the ends of her beak was cute and innocent. “(Y/n)! I gotta tell you something!” Her high yet raspy voice chirps. While tapping the counter with her metallic white fingers, she happily exclaims at you. “Do you like me? ‘Cause I like you~!”

Roxy

This girl has no concept of what it means to be in love. Sure, she has teased a few children crushing on her because of her appearance(and it boosted her ego), but she has never directly fallen in love. All of her ‘relationships’ were always one-sided, her being the one rejecting the others.

The days that she sees you, her mood increases tenfold. It makes her happy to just see a photo of you, so even if she’s in the dark sides of her mechanical mind, a single mention of you causes her tail to wag.

She’s in her primary stand at Roxy’s Raceway when she confesses to you. Two racing flags in her clawed hands, she crosses them into an x while waiting to give the go for the kid racers. Counting three seconds, she quickly shoved the checkered flags down, and watches with glee and pride as the karts rolling off; some tires screeching against the smooth surface of the track.

You just so happened to take part in the race for your cousin. They were too little to ride without an adult or S.T.A.F.F bot, and they were too scared to have those mannequin-like robots beside them, so they dragged you into the fun activity.

The race goes by in minutes due to the speed of the race kart, and whether or not you remain victorious or in defeat, Roxy calls you up to her post. A smirk crosses her colored lips, and she bends her finger for you to come closer.

“As always, you never fail to surprise me, (Y/n),” she laughs. “Now, cm’here and get your prize.” She leans over to your height, and you feel the jolt of her cold metal against your warm skin. As she stands back to her regular posture, she laughs even more and teases you. “But I am still the best!”

Moondrop

As creepy as he may be, Moon is very, very protective and caring. The children at night seem to disagree in believing that, but Moon himself likes to keep an eye out for you...from afar, that is.

He is a control freak, no doubt about it. Even Sun is a control freak, too. Even though they are…technically…the same animatronic-

...

Anyhoo! Because of that ‘flaw’ of his, Moon doesn’t exactly like it whenever your out of his sight. Of course he can roam about and all, but he does have a job he commits too! He can’t leave the sleeping children alone just to see if you’re still at the ‘Plex doing alright!

Moon hides in the play area‘s jungle gym when he first confesses to you. In fact, it’s not even a direct confession, yet he thinks he did it well enough; considering his odd ways of conversing. What can he say? He’s socially awkward 100%.

“(Y/n)…” The moon-based animatronic calls out to you, his fingers wrapping around a caged bar of the playground. Going to him, you notice how he hides himself behind the short gate by crouching down. His glowing red eyes face downwards. “What a pretty person I have come to like.”

His voice goes up and down in so many tones, yet it still remains with that rumble in his throat. “Do you agree with me?” He lifts his body up so you can see his entire face while it tilts to the left. Alas, without complete knowledge on who that particular person is, all you can do is nod and agree. For, you know that if you try and dare ask him a question, he‘ll avert it. Not like he already did to begin with…