#for my cozy space underneath his desk

[mangosmoothiepussyv3]

rambles in the tags

[monarchberrysblog]

Giving miguel backscratches. Idk saw requests open and i just had to. Theres a spot he just cant reach. Also miguel giving backscratches sounds awesome, dudes got killer nails. Tho maybe his nails would hurt idk

𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰

Miguel O’Hara x GN! Reader

Summary: Your man loves some good back scratches.

Content Warning ⚠️: none lmao

Word Count: 837 words 😋

Author’s Note: Yes. I would DIE to give this man back stretched and for his talons to tear at my flesh and—

This isn't proofread, and mostly wrote this having the reader no pronouns and gender-neutral terms (if there are any)

To my readers who love their baby girls (men who have emotional trauma and baggage), this is for you 💌

The gentle pitter-patter of the cool rainwater created a soft, soothing melody that danced against the glass window. Its rhythmic beat was reminiscent of the delicate tapping of fingertips on a hollow, wooden desk, providing a sense of calm that embraced anyone in its embrace—a three-wick candle flickers from nearby, creating a cozy ambiance. The cozy smell of clean linen immediately filled the space while in a queen-sized bed, someone squirmed underneath the soft blankets and shoved some throw pillows away from them.

Slowly emerging from the sherpa blankets surrounding you, a big yawn escaped before you rubbed your eyes and looked around your room. It was the same old, same old—the cozy blankets and pillows, with a couple of plushies accompanying your bed.

Sighing in defeat, you tucked yourself back into the blankets and looked at the flickering candle. “When is he coming home…?”

The colorful hues of tangy orange, yellow, and red filled the space immediately.

As you lay in bed, lost in your thoughts, a deep sigh echoes through the silent room, drawing your attention. Slowly raising your head from under the covers, you glimpse Miguel's entrance. His tired yet friendly eyes meet yours, and a faint smile spreads across his lips, revealing a sense of relief upon seeing you awake.

“Hola…” He sighed, slowly making his way to your dresser, and dug around for his sweats that he always left behind. You let out another yawn before nodding your head.

The tangy colors that filled the room vanished as you looked over to see Miguel in his Spiderman suit still and slipped into his sweatpants. “Lyla, turn off the suit.” The unbodied AI responded quickly as his suit was deactivated immediately.

Miguel flopped onto your bed with a suddenness that startled you. The impact of his body caused a few of the plushies and decorative pillows to tumble to the floor while you bounced slightly from the force of his literal collapse onto the bed. “Hey,” You cooed to him before you placed your hand on his back, feeling his taut muscles underneath the pads of your fingers. A simple grunt from your partner was a good indicator that the man had a long day and wanted nothing to do but sleep and relax.

“Can you move your hand upwards?” Miguel grumbles to you, face-planted onto your pillows. Slowly, you moved your hand up and massaged the taut muscle. “No, cariño. Don't massage it. Can you scratch that spot?” You hummed to him in response and lightly scratched at the irritated spot. “How is that?” You whispered to him. He only grumbled in response, causing you to chuckle.

If Miguel wanted to, he could sleep through a tornado if he wanted to. The inconsistent sleep schedules were always a concern; however, the man managed to get seven hours of sleep per day, surprisingly. It was at an unhealthy consistency, but this was the first time in two weeks you had seen him on your bed, collapsed on top of plushies and pillows.

Miguel let out a contented sigh as your fingernails scratched his muscles, leaving an invigorating sensation in their wake. "Yes, thank you, cariño," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. He could feel his body responding to your touch, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. "Add a bit more force," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fox plushie he held tightly in his embrace.

You complied with his request, scratching a bit more aggressively, your fingernails kneading his flesh expertly. He let out a deep moan of pleasure, lost in the sensation. "There...move to the left, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. You hummed in response, your fingers working their magic, as you inched to the left.

"A little bit more," he urged, his voice growing more urgent. You complied, your fingers dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, completely lost in the moment.

"Alright, that's enough," he breathed out heavily. You instinctively hummed in acknowledgment before gently massaging the reddened and irritated area, which offered him a sense of relief. "How are we doing?" You turned to face Miguel, draping the soft and cozy blanket over him to provide some much-needed warmth.

As his hand moved towards your thigh, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. You felt a firm grip on the soft muscle of your thigh, his nails digging into your supple and warm flesh. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that he should be careful. The tips of his talons lightly punctured your thighs, with the talon in his thumb lightly drawing a puncture wound, drawing a trickle of blood. “Easy there…” You cooed to him, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles. The talons on the pads of his thumb retracted like a cat, and immediately felt his calloused touch.

“Everything is great now that I'm here…”

[admirationandromantics]

Computer Assembling

The photo mentioned is the first one on the three-photo preview on the top. Fucking hell. I swear to god, you guys are going to be the death of me when writing cause ugh, this just flew and flew and flew! I don't have time to write like this, but can't help it when you make the exact scenarios I've been imagining myself. Holy shit, well, read the request and you'll get a good idea of what's about to happen. Ps, added some lovely smut in this, so enjoy <3

Word count: 2,4k (Unedited)

h a i . . . :3 sent u a photo in your inbox to go along with this little request/thot thinking about Chris lowkey being into building computers and he's wearing THAT outfit i sent you and his build looks like that too and maybe the relationship is like you guys are hanging out for maybe the 4-5th time ever and you're just sitting there staring and drooling and not being subtle at all and he's just stuttering and trying not to literally fuck you right then and there while you two are in his room while he builds his new pc build.. oh my god.. i really need nerdy, beefy chris today and your writing always fuels me 🫶😇 -@nerd-space

I can’t help staring at his arms, his sweater rolled up over them, making the lower half partially visible. I wonder what’s underneath the rest of it…

“Can you hand me that star-formed screw?” he asks, reaching out his hand for me to give him. I look around the floor, different bags of screws, corks, plastic and tools. I take some screws with crosses and hand them to him. He takes a quick look to see that they’re correct, before starting to spin them into the metal. I watch intently, his fingers working their magic, no detail too small. Being precise and delicate as he keeps going. Veins forming on his hands as he tightens the screws. 

He shifts, noticing my stare. I can’t control it, therefore I have to force my hand upwards, closing my mouth and turning my head. I bet he’d kick me out for the nasty thoughts I’m having. 

“So” he starts, coughing a little. “Think we can get this done in one night?” 

“I know something we can” 

“What?” 

Shit, I said that out loud. I stutter, trying to find something remotely similar which doesn’t sound as suggestive. 

“I know we can” I quickly rescue myself, and he gives a silent nod, dragging the metalwork on his lap, hiding the view I’m so shamelessly taking advantage of. I sigh, turning back to the equipment. We weren’t far away now, just one board and a little assembling left. I enjoy watching it, not just because of him, but because it looks just like lego. I bet if I bought a set, he’d build it with me. Another reason to watch his hands work, his muscles tense and veins popping. 

His room is cozy. Blinds are open, but the outside is dark. It’s nighttime after all. A lot can still happen before dawn. His walls are full of posters and pictures, his old gaming setup on the desk, as well as a semi-large bed. Around a queen-size one. I take another breath, thighs pressing together to stop my thoughts from wandering. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, cheeks a bit flushed. Is it hot in here? 

“Um, yeah. Just you know”

“What?” 

“Nothing, I’ve just never been in your room before” 

“First time for everything, right?” He laughs a little, and I smile. His hand wanders up to his face, rearranging his glasses, pushing them back. God, if he only took them off, if he did and threw that piece of machinery on the floor and just took me hard right now on the-

“But yeah, none of the others have been here yet” he explains, waving to the room. I nod, looking around once again. The urge to look through his stuff is exhausting. I can’t help myself. 

“Mind if I check your drawers?” I ask, already standing up. He smiles, nodding along and holds his hand out. 

“Be my guest” 

I firstly walk to his desk, opening the first drawer and being met with a couple of game cards, coins and some paper and pens. All of them seem to be minecraft coordinates, remembering where different structures are and other people’s bases. 

“Didn’t take you for a Minecraft sweat–gamer” I joke, looking through the notes. 

“Well, when you’re playing with Josh, you kinda have to” 

“I see” 

I move to the other drawer, bending forward a little since it’s lower. Maybe a bit on purpose? He won’t notice either way. This one is full of candy wrappers, every colour just laying there. I dig through it, finding a small notebook on the bottom. 

“You know there’s something called a garbage bin?” 

“And you know there’s something called privacy?” 

“You said it was fine!” 

“Yeah, yeah” 

I open the book, seeing a couple of old drawings and doodles. Some of them are only scribbles. On one page is Ashley’s name, and my heart falls a bit. This was three years ago. It still doesn’t matter, we all know how down bad he was for her. I sigh silently, closing the book and putting it back. 

I figure that’s it, I’ll stop snooping now. I turn around, seeing him on the chair, screws still in hand as he works intently. I sit down on the bed, right over him, watching as he tightens them, arm flexing in the process. The curvature of his muscles as they reach all the way back behind his sweater. 

Jeez, I need to stop myself, I sound desperate. Desperately horny to be honest, but who wouldn’t be? He’s sitting there, with his arms bare, working his magic right beside me. Glasses on, pants unfortunately on, muscles tensing and a sweet blush on his face. His adorable glasses and messy hair. He said he got out of the shower right before I came. I feel hot, and it’s definitely not okay. What if he still likes Ashley? What if he sees me as just a friend, nothing more? I don’t want to ruin this. 

“Um, y-you’re turning quite red, are you alright?” he suddenly says, a worried look in his eyes as he looks down at me. I pull myself from my trance, chest heaving as I try to steady my pulse- 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking” 

“About what?” He watches as my eyes linger over his arms once again, breathing getting uneven and my thighs pressing together. I have no shame, damnit. 

“Y-you know” 

“Care to elaborate on that?” He laughs a little, gazing over, taking in every inch of me. Am I that obvious? Was this top way too low-cut, because I’ve seen him staring a couple of times. 

“About why you’re staring down my chest” I blurt out, being too forward. Shit. His face gets completely red, hands working in a rush as his attention goes back to the project. He sighs, head leaning back as he collects himself. 

“You can’t expect me not to look when you’re dressed like that” 

“Hartley, are you calling me easy?” 

“Hey, I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me for the last hours” 

The room turns silent, my mouth open to say something back, but I don’t manage. He’s stopped working on the computer, arms stiff and eyes shocked, as if he can’t believe he caught me. Shit, he actually caught me. I’ve been so careful, at least as much as I could. We both stare at one another, and I feel my pulse go up again, heart beating faster and breathing quickening. Fucking hell, why is he staring at me like this? I look him up and down, the computer still being in his lap. 

“I-I um” I start, but can’t finish. A small smile creeps up on his lips as his attention goes back to the project as if nothing happened. I look up confused, wondering what just happened. 

“If my bare arms has that effect on you, you could’ve just told me” he laughs a bit, fastening the frame. 

“What, no, that’s not-”

“I mean, I can take off the whole thing if that’d make you pay attention, but I think it wouldn’t work” 

“Hey, I wasn’t-”

“But you can sit there drooling over my fucking fingers without me thinking about how you’d handle it” 

“What, handle what?” 

He puts the tools down, moving the computer off his lap and walking over. Just then, I notice his large bulge underneath his pants. The thought alone makes my face blush, all the ways I’ve imagined him coming back to haunt me. 

He leans over, and before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on mine, arms on either side of me on the bed. I melt into it, hands going up around his neck, pulling him closer. I lean down, dragging him with and letting him tower over me, even if we’re laying horizontally. His fingers move to grope my thigh, roughly kneading as he bites my lips. I can’t help the moan that escapes my cords, getting swallowed by him as he moves lower and looks up at me. 

“You really can’t keep testing my limits like this”

“What if I do?” 

“Then I can’t be held responsible for what I do next” 

“And what’ll that be?” 

“You’re about to find out” 

His lips leave kisses and bites all over my neck, sucking until he finds the spot making me scream. His hand immediately goes to cover my mouth, smiling as he stops for a bit. 

“Thin walls, I’ve got neighbours, contain yourself”

“Easy for you to say” 

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to fuck the life out of you for the last few hours?” 

“N-no” I stammer, his hands moving under my shirt, groping my breasts. 

“So much I already had a trip to the bathroom, and you got me all going again as I came back” 

“So, you’ve already tried to take care of yourself” 

“You make it difficult” he smirks, dragging my top off. 

“Well, we have to do something about that” 

“You bet I am” 

He takes hold of my already unbuttoned pants, dragging them off with ease, and watching in hunger as my breast jiggles from the movement. I gasp at the cold air, feeling it especially on my soaked panties. He doesn’t waste time, unbuttoning his pants and dragging off the white, thin sweater, letting me see his muscular build. I reach up to him, feeling every curve of each muscle until he gets impatient and throws me down on the sheets. 

“Again, we’re not testing my limits tonight, they’ve already been crossed” 

I snicker, feeling him cage me with his arms as he kisses my lips. I carefully take off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. His face is flushed, chest heaving as he breathes, but I don’t blame him. I probably look worse. He kisses down my stomach, stopping by my thighs to suck them dry. I moan loudly, forgetting about the walls and neighbours. They would have to deal with it. He leaves red and blue marks all over, several times causing me to slam my legs shut. He doesn’t get hurt though, his big strong arms keeping them apart easily before moving to my heat. His fingers trace over the wet fabric, and he hums to himself when feeling it. When feeling me. I whine from the tender contact, the touch too weak to do anything about my craving. He stands up, taking fully off his pants and boxers. I do the same, wanting him so incredibly bad, right now. I’ve waited for him long enough. I pull off my panties, unhooking my bra and throwing it off. He stands there mesmerized by the sight, but I don’t let him take it in. 

“Gaze while we fuck, I need you now” I whisper, taking his hand and dragging him over me again. 

“As you wish ma’am” 

He leans over me, letting his length coat itself in my juices. I’m so ready for him, even though I didn’t get the time to see how big he is, I need him right now inside me. 

“Are you sure you can take it?” he whispers teasingly, making my tension build up. 

“Chris, I swear to god I’ll do it myself if you don’t-”

I give a loud moan as he pushes himself completely in, filling me too much, way over the brim. He gropes my thigh, lifting my leg to get him even further, almost reaching my cervix. I whine, the pain and pleasure merging together and starting to build in my stomach. 

“You know, there’s something so satisfying about shutting you up” 

“So this is how confident and cocky you get when you understand that someone likes you?” 

“Maybe”

“Do I need to remind you of the time you saw me in that short skirt-”

I moan loudly again as he pushes out and completely in again. That time, his face was flustered the whole night. I even got a comment from both Mike and Josh, which made him look over more often, watching intently the whole night. 

“If you keep reminding me of stuff like that, we’ll stay here until dawn” 

“I wouldn’t mind that” 

He starts moving, each thrust earring whimpers and moans from us both, filling the room with our voices and sloppy slapping. His hand eventually finds its way down to my clit, rubbing soft circles in rhythm with his movements. My arms go to his back and neck, pulling him down and meeting my lips with his, my nails scratching from the heavy stimulation. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, the knot in my stomach steadily building up as he keeps going. 

“Switch” I whisper, and he obliges, turning us around and letting me straddle him. I start moving immediately, chasing my orgasm as he whimpers and groans. I jump up and down, my thighs doing most of the work. He notices quickly, and his arms go to my ass, groping harshly and moving me. The position makes him reach a new angle deep inside, making the pleasure unbearable. I’m so incredibly close, I just need a little more time. I start feeling hotter, sweat appearing on my forehead as I keep up the sloppy rhythm, letting my breasts jiggle in front of him. 

I start grinding a bit when I go down, letting our pelvises touch, and giving me that extra stimulation on my clit. This takes over me, making me go over the edge, tightening around him. I keep going, riding out my high on top of him as he jumps me up and down. He gives one last slam, pressing me deep on him and spilling inside me. Thank god I’m on the pill. 

I collapse on top of him, pulse skyrocketing and chest heaving. We’re both sweaty and flustered, breathing in sync as his hand comes to caress my back. I hum into his neck, kissing him softly. 

“So, I think you might have a thing for me” he smiles, fingers going to tangle in my hair. 

“You don’t say” 

“I’m not complaining”

“You better not” I laugh, capturing his lips on mine yet again. “Should we finish that computer?” 

“You don’t want to see what else these hands can do?” 

“I’m not saying no to that”

[age-of-play-i-say]

Puppy Fever, pt. 1

I just have a cold, but I woke up aching and foggy, barely able to manage texting Daddy for help. Daddy appeared quickly, with a warm milk drink for me to wake up with. He coos as I take my medicine, and cannot stand my eyes watering as he breaks the news that he has to return to work while I languish in bed. He’d prefer I stay comfortable in my cozy bed, but I can’t bear to have him out of my sight when I’m like this.

He holds a finger up in the doorway and says “Give me 5 minutes, little one, and then Dada won’t leave your sight again” and I can hear him in every room, shuffling around with purpose. I doze unhappily, drinking my sippy cup and hugging my teddy bear stuffie.

Daddy reappears in the doorway and strides for my bed, sliding his arms underneath my body before bracing himself to scoop me up, blankets and all.

I moan, sore and miserable, and snuffle into Daddy's neck.

He does his best not to jostle me, walking slowly. As he does he whispers "I was saving this for your birthday, but today seems like the right time for a treat."

We round the corner to his office and I peer around his neck to see something new - a large plush doggie bed designed to fit under his desk, with grooves for his legs and feet to fit too. I cling to him and kick my feet happily before groaning from the exertion.

He bounces me lovingly before setting me down to explore my new spot. He adjusts my blanket to wrap around my shoulders and gives my bare bottom a pat. 

"Go on, sweetie, there are other goodies in your little baby corner. I'll be right here the whole time, and this way you don't have to go anywhere for my Zoom meeting later on."

I drop to my knees and crawl in. Out of sight, there's a small space heater, a DVD player with my comfort movies queued, starting with Lilo and Stitch. My favorite stuffies are all in attendance.

He also set up a small breakfast tray of different drinkies, snacks, and cold meds. As a final touch, the cold meds have a sticky note slapped on top that says 'grown ups only, Daddy will take care of it'

I coo happily, feeling warm all over for the first time since this cold hit me hard. I peek my face out and mean to thank Daddy, but no words come out. Instead my eyes get watery and I fling myself forward, hugging one of his legs.

He relaxes and settles into his chair, petting my upper back and hair before murmuring, "Sick as a dog, so I figured you might want to be my puppy for today." I whimper and hug his leg tighter, my bare bottom pressing on his socked foot. I'm turning pinker than my fever flush, not sure why I'm so blushy.

I look up at Daddy curiously. 

"Puppy?" I ask. He nods.

"Puppies don't have to speak, they get pets, tummy rubs, snacks." I nod, laying my head back on his knee before he says, "and any accidents or humpies without permission aren't naughty when you're a puppy." My head swivels to meet his gaze.

He was waiting for me. He leans down and pats the bottom of my puppy pen. It crinkles. He grins and leans back up.

"Lined with puppy pads and the base cushion is washable, so my sweet pup doesn't have to think about anything at all if they don't want to."

My lil winkie pulses against his leg without any movement from me, giving away my thoughts. He chuckles before continuing,

"You can also make humpies if you're up to it, or you can ask Daddy for help. No limits on anything that makes my baby feel good today, okay?" 

I nod, still fever-flushed but so aroused by his love and care. I don't look up at him and instead start rolling my hips against his leg.

He chuffs happily and focuses back in on his laptop, ignoring his puppy-baby churning their growing winkie on his bare ankle.

I squeal a few seconds later when my orgasm hits unexpectedly, leaving me gasping and shaking. I've been feeling so awful that getting off felt like a chore, and now Daddy has put me deep in headspace, caring for me more deeply than I've ever known.

No wonder I'm sensitive.

I sigh contentedly and give my sore hips one final waggle before lifting off, grabbing a drinkie from the tray and two stuffies and settling back between Daddy's legs, safe and sound.

[murdafact]

PROXY, ticci toby. (pt 3)

summary: tobys obsession with a girl becomes something different

cw: toby breakin into ur dorm room, reader is 19 & in college

word count: 3.1k

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the last few months have been total shit. you've been stuck in a mental hospital for god knows how long.

being stuck in a place where you're deemed mentally ill is terrible, especially when you know the truth.

but thank god you were getting out today. you had to move into the school dorms, but it was better than being in the hospital.

as you stepped outside, you took a deep breath of the fresh air and felt relief wash over your body. you were finally out, and on top of that, slenderman's goons were gone now too. for now at least...you knew they'd be back soon enough. but for now, you wanted to just enjoy your freedom and the little bit of peace that came with it.

you finally reached the dorms after what felt like an eternity of walking, the cold air washing over you as you used your key to open the door.

the kitchen was comfortably modern and cozy, with wood cabinets and monochrome tiles along the walls. somehow, it managed to combine a professional look; chef-quality stainless steel appliances with an old wooden table. in the living room a plush sofa was nestled in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the field across from where the dorms were held. seems decent enough, right? no. the bedroom was a mess. dirty clothes were strewn about, along with the occasional beer can or food wrapper. the bed was unmade and wrinkled sheets hung off of it in disarray. a desk leaned against one wall, its surface cluttered with papers and other random items that had been shoved there in haste instead of being put away properly. you sighed as you saw someone inside.

"hey, you're (y/n), right? im sabrina. sorry its a mess, i didn't expect you here this early.. let me help you get settled." she smiled, taking the bags. inspecting sabrina, she was a pretty redhead with her hair done up in a messy bun. her pale skin and face had been covered with dark makeup, her blood red lipstick slightly smeared off her lips. she was wearing a simple black tank and some grey sweats, the faint smell of a victorias secret perfume lingering on her body.

slightly taken aback by the stranger, you hesitantly accepted her offer and followed her further inside. she started picking up clothes off of the floor and making the bed across from hers while talking to herself about how it was good that someone had finally moved in since it had been empty for a while now. once she was done cleaning, sabrina stood back and smiled. "there you go." with a grateful smile, you thanked her for her help and she left the room to go about her own activities. as the door closed behind sabrina, you looked around your new living space with relief. everything seemed so much better now, at least for a while it would be.

weeks have passed, you and sabrina had become friends ever since you moved in. she went out to a party with some other people and you just finished studying. as you went to the kitchen, you heard a strange noise coming from the hallway and turned to see him standing in the doorway. he stood there like an ominous shadow, his face unreadable underneath that trademark hoodie and mask. his eyes seemed to burn with the need for something. you shivered at the sight of him, feeling a chill run through you like lightning in my veins as he stepped closer without saying anything. he moved slowly but steadily towards you until you were mere inches apart and you could feel his breath on your skin - cold and metallic against your flesh; it felt oddly calming yet terrifying all at once. your heart was pounding and your hands were shaking, you felt an unseen force pushing you against the wall. suddenly i heard a clink of metal, feeling a cold blade resting on your neck as he pressed in closer. with every passing second his knife edged nearer to puncturing through your fragile skin. in despair, you could only muster up one thought; what do i do now?

you looked up at him, your voice shaking. tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you begged for your life, pleading for him to spare you. your words tumbled out in a jumble – desperate pleas and half-sentences interrupted by sobs that shook through you like an earthquake, rattling every fiber of your being until all that was left was fear and desperation.

you finally thought you were free— safe from him. but here you are, toby's hatchet on the edge of your neck, threatening to draw blood.

pulling down his mask, he laughed maniacally. an awful sound that sent a chill through your body. his laughter was merciless and relentless, as if he were mocking you for your own suffering and weakness. you pleaded with him to stop, begging for mercy but seemingly unheard in the depths of his uncontrollable mirth. his face contorted in glee even as tears rolled down your cheeks; his joy only intensified the desperation and dread you felt at that moment so acutely it seemed like time had frozen around us both forever.

"i-ive been waiting so fucking l-long for this. for you.." toby's words were punctuated by each gasp of breath he took in between his laughter, and you shrank further back against the wall. your heart was pounding so hard i thought it would burst out of my throat, the terror within me obviously noticeable now. "tell me, why do you need anyone else w-when you have me?"

at this, i felt something inside me break. years of fear and trauma were now made manifest in the form of a broken sob that escaped my throat. i wanted to scream at him, to beg for mercy once more, but instead found myself silently shaking my head as tears streamed down my face. toby seemed taken aback by this display, his laughter slowly dying away. he rolled his eyes, "if you w-wont answer me, i'll make you."

toby quickly lifted up his hatchet, hitting you on the head with the back of it. your head was spinning, and then all went black. you felt a sudden shock in your skull that reverberated down through to the tips of your toes. you could no longer feel what was happening, consciousness slowly fading away like smoke in the wind.

he dragged her body through the woods, he was surprised she hadn't woken up by now from her head hitting the uneven ground. when he reached the mansion, it was empty and quiet. slender probably sent everyone on a mission. walking into his room, he threw her onto the bed. tying her hands and legs together in and leaving the room.

he had more important matters to attend to. he wanted her for so long, and finally got her where he wanted her.

toby went and got some rope from the basement, finding some old furniture he could use as a makeshift gag. going to the room, he tied her feet together, then tangled the ropes around her wrists, pulling them tightly behind her back. he stuffed a rag in her mouth and gagged it with tape before securing it in place.

toby hurried back to the basement, where bloody painter and ej had stored their strange experiments. he peered into the glass tanks filled with murky liquids as he hummed a tune. as toby continued to inspect the lab concoctions, something stirred in the back of his mind. (y/n) .. you were so.. perfect.. he thought. he picked up a syringe and a small vial full of clear liquid, ghb, and carefully stuck it into his pocket.

ghb was a popular drug. it was able to completely erase the persons memories once they took it or got it injected into their veins.

perfect..

he made way back to the bedroom, where he had left (y/n). his hands shook with anticipation as he walked closer and closer. he opened the door, to which he saw you still knocked out on the bed. his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, looking at your figure. you still had your pajamas on from the previous hours, your tank and plaid pants along with your dirty socks. he sighed, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt over him. maybe he should just kill you right then and there, just to get it over with. but he couldn't.

god, no. he loved you too much. even though you were just an average teenage girl, he was obsessed. too much to kill you.

just then, he watched as you woke up, your lashes fluttering at him. your eyes widened, seeing his unmasked face. you attempted to scream, until you realized your mouth was stuffed with a gag. "mmmf!" you said, confused. toby just chuckled,

he was about to respond but then suddenly remembered something more important- a plan he had been thinking of for a while. a way for you to forget everything. a way for him to make it seem like he was yours– or like you were his. a dumb, naive girl again. someone who would go under his every command. he pulled out the syringe from his pocket, nearing closer and closer to your neck. you tried pulling away, "stop s-struggling. you'll just make this harder." he said, his voice deep. the cold, pointy metal of the syringe poking at your neck. you felt him slowly stabbing your neck, the metal piercing through your fragile skin he stuck it in deeper, you felt yourself forming tears in the corners of your eyes. "don't cry. it'll be be-better this way." he said, caressing your soft skins, admiring.

you felt the liquid seep into your veins, going through your blood. soon enough, you fell back asleep.

hours have passed. you woke up, noticing you were laid in a bed, being covered by striped blankets. you looked around the room, only being lit by a small desk lamp . you turned your head to the wall and saw a bunch of pictures, seeing a girl in most of them. she looked unsuspected, seeing as she looked like she didn't even know she was being photographed. one was her in a park just reading a book, another while another was while she was sleeping. feeling creeped out, you backed away. you stepped down from the bed, your now bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. the wood creaked under you as you stepped, walking to the door. you opened the door, slightly peeking your head out and hearing small chatter. "what? what do you mean you just brought her in? do you know how much trouble we'll be in?!" a man yelled. "i already told him. i h-had this plan for months. and now i can finally go through with it." another spoke.

you backed away into the room, closing the door. you were confused. you felt like you didn't belong, like this wasn't your home. what plan was he talking about? did it include you?

toby and masky were in the kitchen. masky was yelling at toby for bringing someone in, a human girl to be exact. "why the hell is there a girl in your bedroom?" masky asked. "i brought her in. her name is—" "what? what do you mean you just brought her in? do you know how much trouble we'll be in?!" masky yelled. toby sighed, "i already told him. i h-had this plan for months. and now i can finally go through with it."

masky sighed, "you better hope this stupid ass plan works. if it doesn't, boss will kill you and her." he said, looking at him with contempt, then shaking his head and walked away, leaving toby alone.

toby sighed and headed back to the room. opening the door, he saw you cowering in the corner of the bedroom. he sighed. "you're awake." he ran his hand through his hair and sat at the foot of the bed "you don't need t-to be scared anymore. i-i'm safe." he lied. he was a danger to society and he knew it, but he didn't want you attacking and possibly running off. besides, how would you react if he told you he's a wanted serial killer?

you stayed in the corner, trying to decide whether or not you should trust him. you stayed silent for a while, desperately trying to remember him, hell if you even knew him. he could possibly be someone you don't even know. he sighed, turning his head and rolling his eyes. he figured that dealing with someone who lost their memories would be hard.

he started to think of a story, one that would be somewhat believable. "i'm your friend. you remember me, right? my name is t-toby." he said, to which you shook your head. "well, either way, we.. you, um, got into an accident. s-so i took you in!" he lied. you seemed to believe it. "b-but, how..?" you said, your puppy eyes looking at him. "it's a story for another day, are you hungry?" he asked, to which you nodded. you felt drained, mentally and physically.

he walked out the room, to which he was met face to face with hoodie. "tim told me about your little plan. is it going well? is she okay?" he asked. "s-she's none of your concern." he said, walking to the kitchen. "hm." hoodie hummed.

toby prepared a simple meal, and when it was done, he served you. you ate hungrily, finishing the meal in under a minute . "thank you .. " you said, voice calm but soft and quiet. he nodded, taking the plate and going to the kitchen to put it into the sink. he leaned against the marbled counter, wondering how he would deal with you. should he teach you how to be a killer like him, or keep your innocence ?

he decided on the first option. he would rather you to be like him instead of trying to hide you from everything. but, first he would have to make you get comfortable with him first. he sighed, he walked down the hall to clockwork's room, since she was the only one he really spoke to and wouldnt be weirded out from his question.

knocking on the door, he waited a few seconds before she opened the door, her green and clocked eye looking at him. "what?" she spat out, "calm down. i'm just asking for a favour." he asked, "do you have any extra clothes?" he sighed. "uh, yeah. for what?" she asked, walking to her closet and pulling out some shirts and pants from her drawer, "it's for uh.. a girl. dont worry about it." he said, walking inside but looking down at the floor.

clockwork dumped the clothes into his arms, "thanks c." toby said, walking to his room, carefully opening the door so he doesn't drop anything. he walked into you laying on the bed, bored out of your mind. "i'm surprised you didn't leave." he said, dropping the clothes on the bed. "i got you clothes so you can change." you sat up, going through the clothes. you decided on a pair of ripped jeans, a simple burgundy tee shirt and a black zip up jacket. he left the room so you could get changed.

when he left, you swiftly changed into the new clothes, and looked at yourself in a mirror he had nearby. looking at your features, you look exactly like the girl in those pictures. you got chills, but honestly thought nothing of it. he was your friend, right? maybe those pictures were consensual, although you had 0 memory of it. but then again, you had no memories.. you couldn't remember anything.

what a shame.

you shook off the thought and exited his room. were those pictures really you? you thought, walking down the empty halls into a living room, to which you met 2 new people, talking to toby in the dining room.

the first person you noticed was a tall, pale guy, with a slitten smiling face and jet black hair. although the scars were scabbed and seemed to be healing, it was like he was continuing to cut them fresh to keep the smile from healing fully. he was wearing a bloody white hoodie with black jeans and black vans. the other was a short, blonde, elf kid who was bleeding from his dark eye sockets . your head fuzzed, you felt like you could remember him, but you can't place your finger on where.

the pale guy suddenly spoke to toby, looking your figure up and down. "your little girlfriends here." he teased, chucking darkly. you tilted your head, confused. toby walked up to you, "we need to go, i have to train you." "for what?" you asked. "er, for.. fighting. yeah, fighting." he completely lied. you shrugged your shoulders and followed him outside and into an open field behind the house. "here." he gave you a fake knife, since he didn't want to hurt you since you're still a beginner. "i thought you meant fist fighting." you said, looking at the dull blade the knife had. "nope." he said. "try to dodge me." he said, lunging at you quickly, to which you dodged from reflexes and made him miss. "good job, but this is just a start." he smirked under his mask.

oh boy..

eventually, weeks turned into months and you got more comfortable with everyone in the mansion. sure, you made your frenemies, like jeff, or your best friends, like toby, jane and clockwork. you even got little sisters you never had, like sally and lazari.

but, that also means you had to change yourself to fit in with the others. your original (h/c) hair has now been dyed to a (d/h/c). you changed the way you did your makeup, your fashion, you got tattoos from a nearby tattoo shop and scars on your body from previous training with toby or clockwork,and overall changed your personality. you went from a naive girl to an independent woman, you didn't need a man.

although you had that mindset, you and toby started dating a while after you joined him in the mansion.

you were happy with him, and he was happy with you. now he doesn't have to sneak and take pictures of you, he can finally get them consensually whenever he wanted, and he didn't have to hide himself from you. you two went on missions together all the time, killing anyone you saw, and everyone who judged your relationship with him.

the end. ♡

─── 2023 MURDAFACT, do NOT repost as your own.

[alieinthemorning]

Not True  [Diluc Ragnvindr]

Content: Fluff, Hurt (You)/ Comfort (Diluc)

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog!

Original Work: I Love you | Diluc Ragnvindr

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You admired Diluc’s tenacity.

Your Lover.

Wine Tycoon

Vigilant of Mondstadt

And whatever else he did amongst the shadows.

Oh and,

Bartender.

The persona he was taking up now.

Sleeves rolled up as he mixed yet another drink flawlessly.

You smiled, admiring him and enjoying the bubbly atmosphere.

Until it popped.

A group of rowdy men howled loudly with laughter.

They weren’t directly beside you, but near enough to have your smile drop.

The bubbly atmosphere wasn’t so bubbly anymore.

Suddenly the whole room was too much and you needed to get away.

“Hey.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes flying to meet that of your beloved.

“I have some paperwork to finish before tomorrow.” He extended his hand, “Let’s go home.”

The smile floated back to the surface.

“I’ll brew some tea.”

You stared at the basket in front of you.

Colorful balls of yarn laid like eggs in a nest.

You had…an urge to learn to knit after watching Noelle knit a sweater in an hour.

So, you asked her to teach you.

And things were fine!

While you were with her.

You did a few small things to start

Small shapes like hearts because they were cute, coasters and even mug cozies.

But now that you were home with your latest project, a sweater for your beloved,

you froze.

The task was now daunting and scary.

What if you messed it up?

What if he didn’t like it?

What if he wanted to break up because of your terrible work?

What if—?

“You know,” You were startled out of your thoughts, as Diluc rounded the couch, eyeing yarn. “I was just thinking about taking up a hobby.” He picked one up then looked at you. “Would you be willing to teach me, love?”

You took a shaky breath, as your heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll try my best.”

“We’ll try together.”

“Arugh!” You crumpled the paper in your hand, then slammed your fist into the desk.

This was the fifth time you were rewriting this.

Why was your handwriting so sloppy?

Why did the pen keep bleeding?

Why wasn’t the paper as smooth as it should be?

Why?

Why?

Why?

You swung your hand to the side, relishing in the sound of all the items on the desk clattering to the floor. 

But then your name was being called by your beloved,

And your anger very quickly fizzled into fear. 

You ducked underneath the desk, tucking yourself close and hiding your face away.

The moment you squeezed your eyes shut, the door opened. 

Silence, then footsteps, but not toward you, but the side. 

The discarded items were picked up from the floor, but you dare not face him.

Once everything was back in order, you felt his presence kneeling beside you. 

It took about a minute for you to gain the courage, or rather become uncomfortable, to face him. 

His arms were open, an invitation. 

And you selfishly took it.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. “I didn’t mean to! I just got so angry and—!”

“It’s okay.” His whisper cut through your sniffling, “Anger can claim even the gentlest of us.”  

You wanted to run

To hide

To no longer exist. 

You couldn’t handle anymore. 

You knew, logically, that they weren't trying to be mean 

Or rude

Or to forget you. 

You were always so forgettable. 

No wonder— 

“There you are.” His voice startled you out of your thoughts.

You flinched at each of his footfalls, only stopping once he did. 

He curled in on yourself as he lowered himself to you. 

“Whatever it is, it isn’t true.” 

You bit your lip. 

You knew it wasn’t true, but you just couldn’t help it. 

“Let me see you.” He brushed a hand over your head. 

You lifted your head, but the moment you locked eyes with the crimson ones, the tears fell and so did your head.

How could someone like him love someone like you? 

His arms wrapped around you and kissed the crown of your head. “I love you, you know.” 

You nodded. 

“Let me hear you say it. Please.” 

“I know you love me, Diluc Ragnvindr.” 

“And I always will. I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it.” 

“Tell me you love me.”

You felt him smile. 

“I love you.”

Initial Note: Okay, so I know you wanted more than just Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, but I’m only comfortable with writing about that since I suffer from it. I don’t want accidentally offend anyone or present them incorrectly. So I’m sorry about that but I do hope you enjoyed what I did write. Diluc loves you! 

...

So, hey its getting close to two years since I wrote this, or rather the original one because oops this went from

"I want to have all of my Collection works on AO3 to be their own individual works because I don't always read other people's collection works, so why should I have mine like that" to "I should rewrite this"

So uh, maybe more will get an update to keep an eye out.

Also this is the original title of this fic, I don't know why I changed it to "I Love You"

Oh also peep the fact that I fully fulfilled the request out now lol

Gee I wonder what changed.

Totally not related but the second to last part is based off a true story haha :)

Also also, to the person who originally requested this: I really hope you see this! And if you do please send an ask! Reminder that Diluc love You!

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[httpsserene-main]

ephemeral (bang chan)

developer notes ☽: inspired by my ig for you page being bang chan bf edits...i did not ask to be depressed because i can't find a man suitable for my standards :) fuck u christopher for being so fine tonight

soundtrack☽: birdie - kota the friend

notifications☽: 818 words, fluff, not proofread, gnl!reader

"time is our only dilemma"

a warm yellow-toned ambient glow is cast within the bathroom from a small desk lamp that you’ve commandeered as a substitution to the harsh fluorescents of the room’s installed lights. a small bluetooth speaker rests on the countertop next to the lamp on its third to last volume setting cycling through a random spotify playlist you’ve selected. it’s probably one out of the hundreds of comfort character playlists you’d never tell a soul that you listen too.

but, you realize that chan’s most likely seen the embarrassing and unending list of the cutesy-fictional catered playlists you’ve become obsessed with in the previous weeks as he’s logged in to your spotify account on his phone. a few months ago, you discovered a new playlist hiding within your massive library that you didn’t add or create, entitled “songs i listen to remind me of you.” that was at the front of your recently played, the cover photo being a picture of you asleep on the couch in chan’s studio (a photo chan’s never shown you). when you clicked to investigate further, you were shocked to see the playlist filled with over a hundred songs, and a description filled to the word limit. tears filled your eyes as you read the romantic note chan had left for you to see, and you listened to the whole playlist while cleaning your entire apartment. there wasn’t a single moment that the heat left your flustered cheeks or the sweet smile left your face. and when you met with your boyfriend in person, you certain that he was blushing underneath his mask when you alerted him of your findings, and he revealed that he was going to surprise you with your specially curated mixtape on your next visit to his studio. 

when you asked why he was giving you such a sweet gift so randomly, his answer came without hesitation. chan said, “there doesn’t need to be a reason for me to express my love for you. of course this gift is meaningful enough for valentine’s day, or an anniversary, or your birthday, but any day i have with you is enough for me to treat you like the love of my life.”

and after a revelation like that, how could you remember the embarrassing fanfic-esque playlists you had downloaded to your phone? they literally don’t matter anymore, not when you have a whole dime piece, respectful, sexy, intelligent, thoughtful-ass christopher bang chan confessing his undying love for you.

that’s all to say that you probably should’ve selected that mixtape to play through tonight, but it’s too late to change that fact, as you would hate to disturb the bubble of space you’ve created in the bathroom to retrieve your phone from the bedroom. and to interrupt the peaceful bath you and chan are enjoying. it’s a rare night that chan was able to join you in your apartment instead of you going to his dorm to see him, and the night is made more precious at the fact that he fought his workaholic tendencies to join you earlier in the evening around seven pm rather than his usual appearance past midnight. and a spontaneous date night was suddenly underway; you and chan cooked dinner together made from the dregs of ingredients in your sparse fridge (grocery day is tomorrow), made progress on cleaning up your animal crossing island together, and even got a few episodes into a short anime you wanted to watch with him. a bath was the only reasonable option to end the cozy date night you both started.

the water is probably half-an-hour away from transitioning from warm to lukewarm, and the bubbles are starting to become sparse. you’re nestled in between his legs, back pressed against his muscled-pillowy chest, head resting aside one of his shoulders to avoid smushing shower cap against his face. chan’s head is propped on the shower tiles, his neck elongated and your fascinated with the view of his adam’s apple bobbing and throat swallowing as he speaks softly to you. his eyes are shut, but he opens them every time you speak to him, seeping with the adoration he has for you. his hands rest on your waist underneath the water, and every so often he squeezes you lighty, and traces patterns on your skin he only knows. eventually you two find yourself running out of things to talk about, but the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. you gladly allow your eyes to flutter closed, and chan begins humming softly; both of you are well aware that you should wrap up the bath, as you both still have early starts tomorrow morning, or rather–this morning.

moments like these are few and far for a man of chan’s lifestyle, and neither of you are going to be the one to cut it short. while this scene is ephemeral, that does not mean it is insignificant.

much love, <3 kirby !!!

© killakirby - piracy and plagiarism are not allowed. no reposts on any form of media

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Five: I Get My Own Beach Cabin (Read on AO3 here)

Thankfully, the Apollo cabin was empty when I got there. I figured everyone was training or doing other activities, as it was the middle of the day. I gathered my few possessions quickly, took one last look around the beautiful room, and walked out the door without looking behind me. I followed the paths to the center of the U and walked up to the run-down beach cabin marked with a 3. Standing right next to the grand, imposing, shining, and ornate structure that was Cabin 1, this one looked even smaller and less impressive. The windchimes were tinkling in the breeze as I walked onto the small patio and pushed open the wooden door with a creak. 

The room inside was cleaner and warmer than I imagined it would be. It was still weather-worn, but it looked less dingy and more homey, like it had been lived in for a very long time. Something about that was comforting, and the cabin felt almost cozy. 

I stepped inside, allowing the door to shut behind me, the only light now coming through the windows that lined the walls, their sills full of seashells. On one end of the room stood a bunk bed with two full sized beds, a dresser, desk, and cozy chair. The bed was hastily made, there were shirts and shorts sticking out of the dresser, and on the wall above the bed hung a mounted horn. Looking at the unoccupied space, I suddenly felt like an intruder. This was someone’s home, my brother's home, a brother who I had never met. I thought about what he might be doing at that moment, and how he had no idea he was getting a new roommate. 

There was an open space in the middle of the room with a worn, blue carpet and a door that I guessed led to a bathroom. In this space, connected to the wall, was also a small fountain that seemed to be supplied with salt-water (don't ask me how I knew that) from an unseen source. I walked to it slowly, listening to the delicate sound of running water, and when I reached it my eyes found my own staring back at me. 

I didn’t know why, but I hardly recognized myself. It had only been two days since I left my home, but something about me looked different, almost older. My hair was the same dark brown it had always been, a mess of waves I could never tame but tried by putting it in a loose braid, the freckles on my face still creating constellations across my cheeks, and my eyes still sea-green. But it was my eyes, I decided, that looked different. Almost sadder. 

I wondered if my twin would share my sad, green eyes. 

After a while I finally tore myself away from my reflection and glanced to the other side of the room with a gasp.

There stood a full sized bed with a comforter that pictured the ocean. But not just any ocean—this one was a mixture of rolling waves in swirls of blues, greens, purples, and pinks, all melting together like an oil painting. And somehow, it was the exact comforter that I had had on my bed in Arizona. My eyes traveled to the walls, where paintings of the beach hung, perfectly placed. Next to my bed stood a nightstand, and on the wall stood a dresser and a desk, along with a comfy chair underneath one of the windows. And folded up against one of the walls was a beautiful blue privacy screen with, again, a gorgeous painting of the ocean. 

At least they stuck to the theme, I thought. 

Quietly I began to place my things in order: my clothes in the dresser, my trinkets along the windows, and my books in the small bookshelf beside the window, all except my large tome of Greek Mythology, which sat on my bedside table. When I was done, I compared the two sides of the room. Mine looked immaculate, put-together, and pristine. The other side looked messy, hastily cleaned, but lived in. His side looked like a home, mine looked like one of those model houses you can take tours of. 

I shook my head at myself. Just give it time. Everyone keeps saying this’ll feel like home soon. 

But not everyone had their godly parent choose their twin brother over them for the past fourteen years. 

With a sigh, I got off my bed and made my way out of the cabin and back to the Big House to see whatever Chiron had in store for me. 

I spent the rest of the day trying out different weapons and seeing which would be a good fit. We started with archery, which went just about as horribly as it could go without me sticking an arrow in someone. Next I tried maces, axes, and spears, all of which I was also bad at. Surprisingly I wasn’t awful at throwing knives, so Chiron set up a training regime with Cadence, who was an expert in that weapon. Lastly, I picked up a sword. As soon as I held it, it felt natural in my hand and I was surprised at how easily the basic maneuvers came to me. Chiron seemed impressed, too, and not at all surprised. He declared the sword would be my primary weapon, with throwing knives as my secondary. I was happy with that. 

Before long a loud conch shell blew, and I couldn’t believe it was time for dinner already. Once in the pavilion, I made my way to the empty table lined with tiny seashells and took a seat. I watched as the other tables filled up, the campers laughing with each other and talking about their days. 

I felt the loneliness creep in as the empty space next to me took up more and more room in my heart. I got a few looks of sympathy from the other tables, and a few kids talked to me in line to give our offerings, but no one came over to the table. I knew they couldn’t, since the night before Cadence explained that everyone sits with their own cabin for lunch and dinner, but I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t wish for it. 

I told myself that I just had to be patient, that I wasn’t truly alone because I had a brother out there somewhere. It was only a matter of time until he returned from his Quest and I would have someone to sit with for meals and to fill the empty bed in our Cabin. 

I could wait until then. 

The next week passed in a blur of training, sleepless nights, and lonely meals. The hours seemed to stretch on forever but the days were flying by. I got to talk to my mom, well, my adopted mom, on the phone, and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest to hear how relieved she was that I had made it there safely. 

It was already the first week of August, and Camp Half Blood was definitely starting to feel more familiar. I had been spending a lot of time with Cadence and Will, and they introduced me to a few of their friends. Soon enough, I had a small friend group at Camp, which made me feel less alone. I was still reminded of my uniqueness, though, at meals and when it was time to sleep in that empty cabin at night. Any day now, I told myself. I’ll meet my brother soon.

[xamassed]

⟬ @bucketfullofocs — Taishiro’s Birthday 8 • 8 ⟭

[Aya @ Tai] His birthday was on a school day, but that didn't stop Aya from taking a bullet train as soon as the school day was over to Osaka to see him. It was his first birthday that she got to celebrate with him, and she wanted to at least try and make it special. Thankfully it didn't take her long to find him.

"Happy, um, Happy Birthday, Tai." She offers him a small, wrapped box covered in daffodil yellow birthday paper. Inside was a necklace, one with a small pendent that could easily be hidden under his hoodie so as to not get in his way. Heart shaped, it seemed black and simple until he held it in his hand. Then the little necklace began to beat. "It's, um, it's a necklace that. Um, recorded my heartbeat. So, um, so you could keep it close, if, um, if you wanted to."

Just in case he didn't like it, Aya had also made a backup plan - a beautiful three layer cake with fresh fruit that she sat on his desk, safe and snug in a container.

"Awwhh, sugar, ya remembered!" He didn't ask her to, and he didn't expect that she would.

Taishiro didn't want people to feel obligated to, though his family always made it a point to spoil him on his special day. They had arrived earlier in the day and left the space rather festive, strips of colorful paper scattered across the desk and floor while half of another cake sat within reach. Opened boxes had been stacked beside the desk along with the wrapping, the inside gifts sat in front of him for him to fondly look at.

Her gift, while strange, didn't put him off. He was curious, the constant and even thrum of a heartbeat making him feel warm inside. The rhythm was familiar, each beat bringing him closer to the answer — until she told him outright that it belonged to her.

"So that's why it feels so cozy." He should have known. Smile soft and endearing, he slipped the necklace on and tucked it underneath his uniform's jacket.

"Now I've got ya with me all the time! If it ever feels like I need ya close, all I gotta do is remember this." Which he realized wouldn't be difficult because he needed her more often than one might think. "It's really gonna come in handy. Thank ya, sweetheart."

She was pulled in close and given a kiss to her cheek before he gathered a dollop of frosting from the beautiful cake and dabbed it playfully onto her nose.

"Now, sit your pretty self down and share this with me! Birthday cake is always yummy, but it's even yummier when ya share it!"

[freebooter4ever]

Some interesting bits of the barn that i saw ^_^

Walt's shaving kit????:

Trains:

I dont know if this is from the era of the barn but i like little handwritten note details like this

I love old windows

OK. So. Since i have now ridden a replica of this train, squatted on the damn thing with my knees up to my eyeballs...i can totally see the appeal of having one of these things in your backyard. But also holy shit would i not want to be seated in that position for longer than five minutes. My knees still arent the same.

He hung his overalls on an old broom rod. Walt was obsessed with self sufficiency almost to the point of detriment, so like…exactly my type of person LOL

Natures wonderland ride cactus concepts:

HISTORY \o/

More desk stuff:

WARD. KIMBALLS. SIGNATURE. DUDE.

i would live in this little room. Just make me up a bed underneath that desk there and i would be happy. (coincidentally this attraction to small cozy spaces is how i ended up living in a closet for two years)

The hole punch was a TRAIN

bonus: "frank! ollie! Let me in i love u!"

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

Coming Home 

Chapter – 17 

 Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)  

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?  

Marabelle Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist  

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor  

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x Daniel(from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson                                                                                   Leo Rys x Katie Rys 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios  

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo, gun violence 

Many thanks to @selina012 for pre-reading. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement with sprinkles of Canon 

Chapter Summary – Sophie settles into her new home at the palace, as well as Marabelle in the Royal stables. Leo comes home with his new bride. The memorial for the victims of the university attack takes place in the Capital. 

Music & Title Inspiration:

Words: 5.0k 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.  

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.  

A/N3: Heartfelt thanks to @Selina012 for joining me in writing ideas and with dialogue/content for this chapter and series. 

Cordonian Royal Palace 

There was something almost dreamlike about walking arm-and-arm with Liam up to one of the lavish bedrooms at the palace. They had scarcely closed the door when his arms slid around her, pulling her tightly against him and tucking her into the warmth of his chest. 

"Are you alright," his warm voice caressing her ear as gently as his breath. 

"Just fine," Sophie gently responded. As she let herself relax and fall into him, Liam tilted her chin upward. His mouth met hers, warm and welcoming. For a few precious moments, there was no outside world. There was only him and her. Nothing between them or tearing them apart. Nothing but him and her, together at last. 

With his arms around her waist, he spun her slowly and tenderly to show her around her luxurious and elegant chamber. It was elegantly and beautifully appointed with richly stained oak furniture. The decor was a soft beige with hints of gold and red, lending a cozy ambiance to the entire space. The walls were adorned with rich gold and scarlet tapestries that shimmered underneath the light of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. 

In the center of the room is a large bed with soft silk quilts, fluffy cushions and pillows stacked in a color that complimented the decor of the room and appears comfortable and luxurious.  

Across the room, she could see the vanity desk and mirror with the signature red chair, adorned with rich red velvet and tufted cushions. The courtyard was in view beyond the terrace doors. 

Liam led Sophie outside onto the balcony and pointed out to the courtyard and whispered, “someday ... all of this will be your little place, too.” 

Sophie smiled demurely and nodded, full of hope for the future. A breeze blew by with the scents of flowers from the gardens. 

He finally loosened his embrace a little and planted a sweet and chaste kiss on her forehead. The smile on his face was genuine, and the glint of love was in his eyes. 

After a few moments, her thoughts turned to Hana and her doctor’s comments. Sophie was informed that Hana was in shock and needed to be checked by a nurse while at the palace. Sophie wondered how she was settling into her room. 

“Thank you, Liam, for inviting Hana to stay at the palace while she recovers. She was a comfort to me in the hotel that night, and I am truly grateful for our new friendship," Sophie said with sincerity.  

"My love, you do not need to thank me. It is not my intention to ever make you feel like you must hold gratitude for basic human decency. Especially not when you have been through such an ordeal yourself." 

Sophie had to stifle a laugh at his phrasing, and he responded with a chuckle. "What is so funny," his eyebrow cocked up with the beginnings of a teasing grin on his handsome face. 

"It just seems to me," she begins, hesitating only briefly before the seriousness and courage returned to her, "that there's just something about an 'ordeal' that leaves a woman wanting in your life, huh?" 

Sophie looked down with a smirk. 

Liam looked back at her with a perplexed look for only a second before he gives a soft snort and shakes his head with the realization. 

"Is it any wonder why I love you?" 

She merely hums her appreciation in response and continues her own examination of her new surroundings. 

Liam leaned into her more fully, sliding his arm down the length of her body to slip his fingers between her own and lift their hands into a tight clutch before him, effectively stopping her in her path. 

"Everything you want in the world is available to you, within these very walls. So, if there is anything at all you might desire or even fancy to want, you shall have it," he paused for a brief second. She caught the slight trepidation in his tone. "This is your home for as long as you should so wish, Soph. So, I want you to feel like it's completely yours. Your things are already being moved over from Ramsford and will join you here, shortly.” 

Reminded about Marabelle, her thoughts turned to her loyal companion who had accompanied her through so many days and nights. Sophie hadn’t seen her horse for days and wondered if she was all right at the House Beaumont stables. 

“And Marabelle?” Sophie wondered aloud. 

“Marabelle will now be homed here in the palace stables.”  

Liam seemed to read her mind and said softly, "According to the stable hands, Marabelle became agitated when the shooting happened, as if she sensed her owner was in danger. But rest assured, she is fine and has calmed down now. She will now be homed here in the palace stables." 

Sophie felt unexpected emotions. It had never occurred to her that Marabelle could sense her danger so keenly. This tacit understanding and connection beyond words made her cherish the emotional bond with Marabelle even more. 

Sophie looked up at him with a rather appreciative smile, but he could see the flicker of mischief behind it and was at once curious to know exactly what it is she was thinking about. "What is it," he chuckled softly. 

"Can I decorate?" 

His laughter rang out, a rich warm sound. Sophie didn't even try and pretend like she doesn't absolutely love it when he is relaxed enough to throw back his head and laugh in earnest like he did then. 

"My love, if you think I'd even consider toying with the notion of saying no to your whim or desire, then you haven't known me nearly well enough." His eyes gleamed at her with their twinkle of laughter. 

"Don't blame this on me, Liam. You're the one who suggested I'd find everything I wanted here and be willing to give it to me." 

"Would you believe me," he reached for her free hand with his and lifted both to hold up at his chest level, between them, "if I told you there is nothing in the entire palace grounds and even the kingdom itself, that I would refuse you and anything you wanted." 

He pressed a sweet kiss against the smoothness of the back of her palm and she felt a jolt from the simple gesture. 

"Can I trust that?" Sophie teased with a flirtatious smile, leaning in toward him. 

"Please, allow me to prove to you the sincerity in that promise, because it's quite important to me that you have faith in it." Liam teased back in response. 

"Your majesty." They heard the whisper from the closed door just before it cracked open. Liam did not remove his gaze from Sophie. 

"Speak freely, Tyler, no need for the secrecy and subterfuge. "Liam said calmly but gravely. 

"My apologies, sir, you have an urgent call from the Italian ambassador." 

"Right. Of course, thank you." Liam cleared his throat and cleared his expression, revealing a kind smile as he gently squeezed his grip around Sophie's hands. "I will see you at lunch, my love?" 

Sophie nods her agreement, smiling gently at him as he gently pats her hands before letting go, offering a gentle squeeze at his retreat before heading out. 

After Liam leaves to answer the call in his office, Sophie chose to check on Hana in a nearby bedroom. She began the short journey across the palace's royal wing, passing by an enormous stained-glass window overlooking the lavish courtyard. As she finally approached a familiar corridor and took two steps down the hallway, she sees a blur out of the corner of her eye. 

‘Hah! An unfamiliar woman ducks out of an alcove ... and swings her fist at Sophie's head!’ 

With the quick reflexes from childhood equestrian training, Sophie ‘ducked down just enough that the fist passes harmlessly over her head.’ 

‘Hff! The stranger's other hand comes up to drive another punch at Sophie.’ 

Dodging the second strike, her fist whistles past her face.' 

‘Thunk! Before she can think twice, her hand shoots up and snatches the woman by the wrist. Using her attacker's momentum against her, she yanks the stranger towards the floor and shoves her off-balance onto the ground, sending the stranger sprawling.’ 

‘"What the..." and before Sophie could finish her thought, the woman launched into a roundhouse kick.’   

‘"Yahhh!" In a panic, Sophie stepped forward and stumbled even further into the arc of her kick, but just before it makes contact ... the woman drops into a standing position. 

"You've got potential, but you could use a lot of polish."’ The woman looked at Sophie with an examined eye. 

Sophie gasped and distanced herself from the woman, "Oookay, back up. Who are you?” 

The woman gives a short bow. 

"I'm Mara. Isn't it obvious?" She made a brief introduction of herself. 

Sophie was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized, "You're ... my new bodyguard?" 

"Correct. You're smart. That's good." Mara nodded with a brief smile. 

"Alright Mara, have I done something to make you mad at me?" Sophie looked at this woman in front of her, discontented and confused. 

"Of course not." 

"Then can you explain to me why you tried to punch me in the face? Twice?" Sophia stared at her warily, her eyes alert. 

Prince Liam said you needed the best protection, and I'm here to offer the best that I can.' Mara raised her head in a serious tone. 

You ... did that as some sort of training exercise? 

"I didn't want you to get used to fighting from the ground." Mara nodded. 

Sophie shook her head disapprovingly, feeling both good and amused at Mara’s weird ‘protection’ method. “For someone tasked with protecting my life, that seemed pretty unsportsmanlike to me!" 

" Do you think everyone who attacks you will be honorable?" 

Anticipating Sophie’s reaction, Mara puts her hands behind her back and bounces on her toes, a cheerful smile plastered to her face. 

Sophie looked into Mara’s determined eyes with a mixture of reassurance and unease. Mara’s style is a little hard for her to accept, and she’s not sure she can fully trust her new bodyguard.  

"My instructions were not to be friendly or easy. Prince Liam said, 'get tough and get smart, and don't let anyone near her again' so I will stick to my orders. "Seeming to read Sophie’s mind, Mara explained with a serious look. 

Sophie raised a questioning eyebrow at Mara. 

Mara replied," from now until we capture the enemies or stop them, whichever is first, I am your shadow, Lady Sophia. Nothing else matters to me right now." 

Sophie hears a door open behind her as Liam steps into the hallway. 

"Oh, I see you've met Mara." Liam’s eyes were tinged with relief and anticipation. 

"Yeah, she ... introduced herself...if you can call it that." Sophie nodded and gave a rueful smile. 

Liam smiled, not surprised by the way Mara made her entrance. “I wanted to run an idea by you before we head to lunch." 

 Gardens of the Royal Palace 

The garden lost its old laughter, replaced by an indescribable repression and silence. The flowers also seem to be overshadowed by this sudden change, losing their bright and vibrant past. Madeleine sat alone in a corner of the garden, her dark green dress blending in with her surroundings. 

She sat still, her eyes blank into the distance, her ears filled with the whispers of people around her, talking about the shooting at Cordonia University that shocked the nation. For Madeline, it was a relief that the focus was no longer on her embarrassing divorce from Leo. 

It had been a month since Prince Leo had abdicated the throne and Liam had been made Crown prince. That moment marked not only a major change in the Cordonian monarchy, but also the end of Madeleine's dream of being queen. Her father, Duke Godfrey, who had placed great hopes in her political engagement with Leo, was now bitterly disappointed. The relationship between father and daughter fell to a freezing point, almost beyond recovery. And she herself, because of the sudden collapse of the dream of becoming a queen, fell into a deep confusion and pain. 

During the period when her engagement was broken off, Madeleine went from being the queen in waiting to become the object of public discussion overnight. Curiosity, sarcasm, sympathy... A storm of complex looks and words. She could not bear this change, so she chose to escape, hiding in the family estate in the Duchy of Krona, for a whole month, cut off all contact with the outside world. Even her friends Penelope and Kiara, who were turned away the first few times they tried to visit, gradually lost patience and stopped coming. 

In the lonely manor, Madeleine tries to use silence to heal her wounds, but she gradually senses that the atmosphere inside the manor is abnormal. To say nothing of her father's disappointment, even her mother, always carefree and fond of partying and gossiping, the Duchess of Adelaide became eccentric and seemed to be hiding things from her. In addition, some rarely seen faces frequently appear in the Duchy, either as guests to Adelaide or as mysterious visitors with hidden agendas. Immersed in her own world, however, Madeleine did not pay much attention to these subtle changes. 

Until a few days ago, the sudden shooting at the University of Cordonia shattered all the quiet. The innocent students got hurt even killed, and the whole country of Cordonia was filled with grief and anger. It was like a blow to Madeleine's heart. She realized she couldn't run away any longer. She knew that, as a member of the aristocracy, she had to stand up. The pride and self-respect that remained in her heart did not allow her to remain silent and withdraw when her country was in danger. 

So, she took courage, walked out of the house where she had been imprisoned, and went back to the palace. However, she still chose a cautious lifestyle, trying to avoid the eyes and comments of the crowd. She knew that though she had walked out of the gate of the manor, the shadow in her heart would not be removed for a moment.) 

As Madeleine sat alone in the pavilion in the palace garden, lost in her own memories, the silence was suddenly broken by a soft sound of conversation. She jerked back and caught two familiar figures -- Penelope and Kiara. Their figures stretched out in the afternoon sun and stood out. 

"I really can't imagine that shooting could have happened in Cordonia, it was so horrible. I hope the victims will be fine." There was a tremor in Penelope's voice, a timid and gentle nature that made her terrified by the mass violence. 

Kiara was more profound, with some anxiety in her voice: "Cordonia is not peaceful these days. Prince Leo suddenly abdicated last month, and Liam was appointed crown prince. I don't know what the future holds." 

Upon hearing Leo's name, Penelope instantly thought of Madeleine: "That reminds me, how is Madeleine? We haven't seen her for a long time since Prince Leo abdicated." 

Kiara snorted contemptuously. "Don't mention Madeleine. Don't forget, we went to Krona a couple of times to find her, and she turned us away. Apparently, she chose to hide, rather than face the truth. People like her don't deserve our attention anymore." 

Madeleine's heart felt like fire had been poured on it, and her anger flared up. She had wanted to leave quietly to avoid the awkward encounter, but Kiara's words were like a sharp knife, cutting through the last of her self-esteem. She straightened her back and, in an almost haughty manner, walked slowly towards her former friend. 

"Penelope, Kiara, I can't believe you remember me." Madeleine tried to keep a calm voice, even as the anger inside swelled. 

A flash of surprise crossed Penelope's face, followed by concern. "Madeleine! Long time no see, how have you been?" She held out her hand happily, only to be shunned awkwardly by Madeleine. 

Kiara, on the other hand, was far more indifferent, refusing even to look Madeleine in the eye: "Penelope, why should you be so polite to her?" Even though she was once Prince Leo's fiancée, but now she has been annulled by him, now she has lost her value. Following Prince Liam is the right thing to do now." 

Madeline fought back her anger with a sneer on her lips. "Oh? Did you, now? Kiara, my engagement was broken off by Leo, but that doesn't mean I lost. At least I had a chance of being queen, and it is not for you to judge me." 

Penelope saw this and quickly stepped forward to make peace, "Kiara, Madeleine was our friend, she helped us a lot, she must be very sad now. Why can't we sit down and talk it over?" 

Kiara folded her arms and glanced at Penelope with a few lines of dissatisfaction: "Penelope, you’re too good-tempered. What we should focus on is facts and values, not friendship." 

Madeleine could not listen anymore, and every word seemed to her like an insult. She shook her head and looked at Penelope coldly. "I accept your kindness, Penelope, but I don't need your sympathy or pity." With that, she turned, her dress made a sharp arc in the air and swept away. 

Leo's perspective ...

In the deep and solemn study of the royal palace of Cordonia, the dim light reflected the portraits of the Kings hanging on the wall, and the air was filled with a sense of heaviness and unease. Outside the window, dark clouds billowed, as if foreshadowing the turmoil the kingdom was experiencing. Now, in the study, Leo and King Constantine stood facing each other, their figures very stiff in the weak light. 

"Father." Leo's voice was low, with a subtle tremor. He had just rushed back from abroad, worried about his father's health and shocked and saddened by the shooting at Cordonia University. 

King Constantine's eyes were sharp and complex. He said slowly, "You have come back at last. I thought you had forgotten this country." 

Leo took a deep breath and said, "I haven't forgotten, but I need time to find out what I really want in life. Also, I heard about the shooting and I'm worried about it and about your health." 

"Do you even know how to worry?" Constantine sneered. "You have thrown all this away at the most crucial moment, including your duties as crown prince and your fiancée Madeleine." 

Leo's hands were clenched in fists and his voice was low but firm: "Father, I admit that I did what I did, but it was because I was really not up to the task of being Crown prince, it was not the right life for me. As for Madeleine, there was no real affection between me and her, and I can't stand the thought of being married to her. Besides, I have one more thing to tell you ... this time, I'm back. I met Katie abroad, and she showed me what true happiness is. I have decided to marry her." 

Constantine frowned and expressed his discontent. "Leo, do you have any idea what you're doing? Duke Godfrey is an important friend and ally of the crown, and your engagement with Madeleine is not just about the two of you, it's about the stability of the country! Now, you're telling me you're going to be with a foreign woman? Have you realized that because you left, I had to put Liam on the frontline, and now he's under pressure that doesn't belong to him!" 

"I know I've disappointed you with my decision, but I can't go against my heart." Leo looked down, but then raised his head firmly, without any hesitation or guilt, "I believe that Liam can take on the responsibilities of Crown Prince and that he is better suited to the position than I am." 

The atmosphere in the study grew tense, and eventually the conversation between father and son broke up. Constantine waved his hand, indicating that the conversation was over. "Well, you'd better go. I'm tired and need to rest." He stood up slowly under the help of his assistant, and his figure seemed particularly tired. 

Leo watched his father move away with a mixture of guilt and conviction. He looked at the direction of his father's departure. His heart both worried about his father's health, but he was also confused about his future. Katie's smile and Cordonia's future are intertwined in his mind, making him feel more tangled and struggling than ever before. 

But he also believes time will tell. No matter how bumpy the road ahead, he will walk hand in hand with Katie to face the wind and rain of the future together. Giving up the throne does not mean he has given up on Cordonia, and he will quietly support his brother Liam in a way that is not bound by royal obligations, to do his part for his homeland in a way that suits him. 

The Capital, Cordonia University

The mood was somber and solemn in front of the auditorium, where a memorial service was being held for the victims of the shooting. 

The sky is low, and the drizzle is endless, as if God is silently mourning for the souls of these early deaths. The rain sweeps the world in a hazy gray, covering the land with a veil of sadness. 

Around the palace, as well as far away as the university campus, and even every corner of the country, the flag is half lowered on the flagpole, swaying gently in the wind, like a silent guardian, expressing deep respect for the dead and do not give up. This silent symbol conveys the deep sorrow of the whole country over this tragedy. 

On the green belt in front of the hall, 14 white crosses stood quietly, each bearing the photos and names of the victims, and below them flickering candles whose weak but firm light was warm in the rain. All around hung black elegiac couplets, written on the sad eulogies, the living to the dead endless sorrow. 

With music playing heavily and slowly, the royal family was the first to enter the venue. King Constantine and Queen Regina entered hand in hand, their steps heavy, their faces serious. He was followed by Prince Liam, dressed in majestic black military regalia with gold and red ribbons and epaulets with mixed emotions reflected in his eyes. Prince Leo stood behind Liam, and although he is no longer Crown Prince, he chose to stand here and pay his respects to the victims with his brother. Each member of the royal family wore a commemerative medallion on their chest, which they had specially designed for this day of mourning. 

As the nobles entered, Madeleine was dressed in black, her face pale, her eyes both sad and unwilling. The Duchess of Lythikos, Olivia's bright red head shone out in the crowd, and her eyes were uncharacteristically firm, conveying a silent conviction. Duchess Bethany entered the meeting with the Beaumont family, including Bertrand and Duke Barthelemy, their eyes searching for Sophie's figure. 

In the crowd, Sophie, as a student representative, wore a pure black dress with a small white flower pinned to her chest. Her face was solemn, her eyes glistening with tears, but her steps were firm. She eased her way to the front row to sit beside Daniel and exchanged an encouraging look with Maxwell, who was also wearing a black suit. Maxwell stood alongside his brother Bertrand in the line of nobles, his eyes showing concern and support for his cousin. 

The memorial officially began, Sophie, as a student representative, held a bouquet of white flowers, slowly walked to the front of the crosses of the victims, gently placed the bouquet under one of the crosses, and offered the first bouquet of flowers in the entire activity. Then Queen Regina and King Constantine nodded. Sophia walked slowly to the podium where the royal family stood, faced the crowd and made a low bow to the King and queen before she began her speech. 

"Your Majesties, Your Highness, dear professors and classmates, and every friend here today," Sophia's voice was clear and firm, "we are gathered here on this special day to remember the innocent lives that were lost. Their smiles and dreams came to an abrupt end in this sudden disaster, leaving us with endless grief and thoughts." 

She paused, glancing over the rows of crosses, and continued, "But more than grief, we should remember their beautiful memories and pass on this love and hope. Together, let us pray for the dead, cheer for the living, and protect this land we love." 

Prince Liam slowly stepped forward. He looked deeply at Sophie, and pulled out the commemorative Royal on and gently placed it on her chest. His fingers inadvertently touched the fabric of her dress, bringing a burst of warmth to Sophie. Their eyes met at this moment, without words, but their hearts were deeply connected. 

Constantine, Regina, Liam, and Leo signed their names in the book of Condolences and lit a candle at the cross. Nobles line up, holding baskets or bouquets of flowers, and praying for the dead. Students and professors also came forward to place various memorial items in front of the cross, offering their condolences and blessings. 

As the memorial ceremony went on, more and more people from all walks of life outside the school joined the ranks of mourning spontaneously. They stood in front of the cross, or bowed their heads in silence, or whispered to each other, everyone's heart was full of condolences and best wishes for the families. 

A book of condolences, signed by the members of the royal family, was set aside, filled with messages. Numerous wreaths, baskets and bouquets of flowers were placed around the white cross, adding a touch of colorful light to the oppressive weather. Mementos of all sorts - stuffed animals, schoolbags, shoes, eulogy envelopes and elegiac couplets - fill the green belt lawn. Each one carries the deep memory of the living for the dead. 

The mourning lasted from early morning until dusk. The royal palace and the campus of the heavy bell slowly tolled, the deep and distant bell, echoed in the rain, through the clouds straight to the heart. Later, 14 colorful balloons with photos and eulogies of the deceased were slowly released and struggled to rise through the rain, each carrying a message of despair for the deceased and hope for the future. Despite the rain and overcast skies, the balloons are like a rainbow of bright colors, bringing a warm glow to a land shrouded in sadness. They stagger in the air, and finally disappear in the vast rain, taking people's tears and sadness, but also leaving a faint but firm light of hope. 

The rain is still thin and dense underground, and it seems that it is crying for this tragedy. The scene was immersed in a solemn, only the sound of rain, the crackle of candles and the silent crying of people's hearts. But there was also an unyielding power in the air. In this black sea, everyone, in their own way, pays their deepest respect and memory to the 14 lives lost. The field in front of the auditorium of the University of Cordonia is today the focus of national and international attention, a witness to human grief and a witness to the brilliance of humanity shining in the darkness. This is not only a memorial event, but also a spiritual baptism and rebirth. 

 Throne Room, Palace 

Neville Vancoeur walked down the wide corridor slowly and stopped in front of the large oak doors of the throne room. For him, it was a routine practice to come here, but today his mood was particularly difficult. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Liam Rys had summoned his appearance. 

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@choicesficwriterscreations

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[steveshairychest]

After the stuff with vecna and after Eddie has healed from his wounds, he decides to leave Hawkins. Everyone there already wants him dead and blames him for everything so he sees it as the only way out. He packs his stuff in the night and leaves without saying good bye, he hates good byes and he knows they would try and convince him to stay. The only person he left a letter was Wayne.

Fast forward nearly 5 years. Eddie owns a tattoo shop, he has a cozy apartment and two cats he would give the entire world.

On one of his slower days, the bell on the front door of the shop dings, letting him know someone's just walked in. "One second!" He calls from the back room. He takes one final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the cat shaped ash tray. "Sorry. What can i do for you...today." Eddie stops at the front counter, he can't tell if what he's seeing is real or if he accidentally smoked a joint out the back that's making him hallucinate Steve fucking Harrington standing in his shop.

Steve looked just as shocked as he did. His mouth was open in a tiny 'o' and he was staring at Eddie like he also couldn't believe he was real. "Eddie?" Steve came around the counter and stood right in front of Eddie. He was wearing glasses, he doesn't remember Steve needing glasses, and he had let his moustache grow out. He looked good. "Do you remember me? Steve Harrington?"

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yes, you're hard to forget, Steve." He tugged a piece of his hair in front of his face, he felt so small under Steve's gaze. Was he angry at him for leaving? Did they all hate him? "What are you doing here?"

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, still as glorious as ever. "Is it not obvious?" He chuckled and gestured to Eddie's flash sheets on the wall. "I came to get a tattoo for my birthday, Robin convinced me. She's trying to find a place to park."

Eddie nodded and leaned over the desk to grab one of his information sheets for Steve to fill out. "Well, fill this out for me, Harrington. Whatever you want is on the house." Steve started to protest but Eddie just shoved the sheet and a pen at him. "Consider it a birthday present and... an apology." He gave him a weak smile, Steve's eyes dropping to look at his snake bites.

"Cool piercings." He leaned a little closer to look at the rest of them. He had snakebites, a septum piercing, his bridge and an eyebrow piercing. "Did you do them yourself?" Eddie nodded, a little out of breath by how close Steve was. "You look great, Eddie. Have things been good for you?" He walked around the other side of the counter, finally giving Eddie space to breathe, and leaned on it as he filled out the form.

Was he really asking him small talk questions? Was he not going to ask Eddie why he left? Why he didn't say good bye?

"I've been good. The shops doing great and everyone around here is really nice, I guess." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, he felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, just waiting for the ground to break underneath him. Waiting for Steve to drop the nice act and yell at him. "How are things for you?"

Steve shrugged and gave Eddie a smile. "Much better now." Eddie scoffed, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. "Robin and I actually just got a place here. We had to make sure it only had two rooms otherwise Dustin would have weasled his way into moving in with us." Just the mention of Dustin's name made Eddie's heart squeeze. He hated himself for never saying good bye to him. "He missed you a lot, by the way."

There it is. The ground shifted and Eddie felt himself tumble down the side of the cliff.

Eddie didn't say anything, just stared at his shoes, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. "I'm sorry I didn't say good bye." He tilted his head back and blinked the tears out of his eyes, he spent too long on his eye-liner this morning to cry it off over something that happened years ago. "But I couldn't stay in Hawkins. I had to get out. I don't regret leaving but I do regret not saying good bye to any of you."

Steve was staring at him now, he put his pen down and came back around to Eddie's side of the counter. He stood so close to Eddie he could smell the cigarette he must have smoked before coming in. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Eddie. No one was mad at you, a little upset but we understood why you did it." He hesitated for a moment, his hands reaching for Eddie but stopping half way. "We missed you." He paused. "I missed you. I still have your vest, I can give it back, if you'll let me see you again after this?"

Eddie couldn't stop the tears now. He'd been ignoring how much he missed his friends for years. Ignoring the little voice at the back of his head that would tell him to go back. But having Steve here basically asking if he wanted to be friends again was enough to break him.

"Fuck you, Harrington. Making me cry at work." Steve didn't hesitate this time, he stepped closer and pulled Eddie into his arms, his warmth and smell were still the same. Still so comforting and so unbelievably Steve, it was overwhelming. "I missed you too." He mumbled into Steve's chest.

They stood like that for God knows how long, until the bell on top of the door rang loudly through the shop and caused them to jump apart. "Jesus Christ, I couldn't find a parking- Eddie?!" Robin was standing in the door way now, her shocked face mirroring Steve's when he walked in.

"Miss me?" Eddie said weakly, he knows he looks awful right now. His eyes a little puffy from crying and his eye-liner smudged on his face and the front of Steve's shirt.

Robin smiled and scooped him up in a hug so tight he felt like he was going to burst. "You better give us free tattoos, Munson."

[natewriteslol]

May i request the vice dorm leaders dating MC/Reader who has a habit of hiding under things kind of like a cat? Like one time they just see mc under the bed or under the desk chilling.... I have a cat who hides under things and i find this absolutely abdorable lol

Characters: Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Ruggie Bucchi, Jade Leech, Lilia Vanrogue, Jamil Viper

Y/N is gender neutral :)

Trey Clover:

-He found out about your habit when you scared the shit out of him

-Trey came to visit your dorm after he had finished doing work for Heartslabyul

-He called put your name but... you were no where to be found?

-Trey went up to your bedroom looking for you, going into your closet, bathroom, and then he walked up to pull the sheets from the bed

-"Y/N where are you-AH?!"

-You gripped onto his ankles and crawled out from under the bed

-"By the Great Seven! Y/N you scared me!"

-He doesn't have a problem with your kinda odd habit (he actually finds it really endearing)

-but pls don't scare him like that his heart can't take it aksjffhh

Rook Hunt:

-He's quite used to animal behaviors, being a hunter after all

-But he has never seen a human exhibit such cat like behavior

-Very interesting of you hmm~

-"Ah, mon amour what are you doing under there?" He says as you were under your computer desk

-Won't pester you about it at all! He thinks it's rather endearing <3

-calls you his "minou"

Ruggie Bucchi:

-He went into the common room, looking for you

-You did text him to show up after all, yet he couldn't find you-

-His eyes went to the couch, most of your body was underneath the couch?

-"Y/N, what are you doing under the couch?" Ruggie asked, furrowing his brows

-tbh he has no problem with it, I mean he goes through garbage and picks up random dandelions

-who is he to judge his baby?

Jade Leech:

-Had been looking for you in your room for about a minute

-Only to see you inching out from under your bed...like a gooberish little worm

-He chuckled and then stepped toward you "My dear, what are you doing?"

-Once you explained it gives you comfort while he was still confused, he understood alot better than just you randomly being under your bed lol

Lilia Vanrogue:

-Doesn't really judge tbh

-He swings on the ceiling all the time after all!

-The first time he stops by and asks what you're doing

-Its a little odd but he realizes that's what you're comfortable with

-Lilia just accepts your little quirk

-He sometimes stops by under the desk to sit next to you

-"I must admit it is quite cozy. No wonder you spend so much time down here, hehe~"

Jamil Viper:

-Very confused??

-He originally thought you had stooped down do grab something you dropped

-But there you were, under the desk just typing away at your phone while Jamil laid on the bed reading

-After a couple of moments Jamil asks, "Y/N...What are you doing down there?"

-He quickly learns that going under tight spaces gives them comfort, but he is a little concerned

-What if you bump your head? Or can't get out?

-He loves you Y/N but why are you like this-

[jjtheresidentbaby]

⚽️ here, thanks for getting to the last request so quick!

to me, hotch is the team’s dad for sure (minus rossi, he’s like the single rich italian uncle or grandpa). age order for his kiddos would be emily, morgan, penelope, jj, and reid, which I think is most accurate given their ages in real life? point is, based on that age order, reid is the baby of the family, which is normally how their family is written but jj is the youngest GIRL. and when it comes to the youngest girl in the family, you can bet everyone is protective, esp the dad. so I thought:

jj didn’t have the best father figure growing up. her parents were fighting on the verge of divorce when her sister died. and it’s canon that her father remarried to someone young. so hotch becomes her father figure early on in the seasons, esp when she’s regressed. that’s his little girl and he’d do anything for her, on and off the field. even during cases, he makes sure she’s either with him, safe at the station, or if heaven forbid he has to send her into the field, she’s paired with one of her brothers or rossi.

he doesn’t care if she regressed at work or on the plane bc he’s always prepared for it. a special thing he does is make a cozy safe place for her under his desk, after finding her hiding away in it one particularly hard day. she was anxious and rocking back and forth. he wasn’t able to coax her out but he still had to get his work done, so he let her stay and calm down at her own pace with him close to her. and eventually she does calm down, quietly hugging his legs from underneath the desk.

after that day, he starts adding to that small space: foam letter tiles, a blanket, some soft toys. just so she’d know she was safe and allowed to be there whenever she needed it, whether he was there or not. of course she loves it, clutching onto a soft toy in one hand, her other arm and legs wrapping around her dada’s legs. and even hotch would admit this soothes him too knowing she’s safe with him, even though her being regressed at work isn’t ideal.

but after hotch gets put into witness protection, jj doesn’t have this anymore. she doesn’t have her dada anymore and she hates it. but when Emily is named new unit chief and discovers this space under the desk, she knows right away it was for jj when hotch was still there. it explains all the times jj disappeared into his office for long lengths of time. and as jj’s remaining caregiver, emily keeps the space, even adding more to it: pictures of jj and hotch taped to the walls underneath the desk so jj could have her dada close to her when she needed him. it takes awhile before jj eventually uses the space again on her own but emily quietly reassured her that it’s hers and will always be there for her, that she may not be hotch but she cares for jj and wants her to be safe and happy no matter that headspace she’s in. and it helps emily too bc she misses hotch, the missing 1/3 in their trio, but she’s not alone so even if her and jj miss him, they can miss him together.

and yes, jj does the same thing to emily, hugging her legs from underneath the desk while sucking on her fingers. emily would reach under with a pacifier for her bc “no thumbs, sweet girl. that’s yucky.” She’d stroke her hair, sometimes asking her for her opinion on things while she’s hiding under the desk. sometimes jj responds, sometimes she doesn’t. but emily is just happy to have her there.

Under the Desk | Jennifer Jareau x Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner

find on my ao3 here

a/n: everyone praise ⚽️ anon for having the best ideas!! this makes me wanna sob uncontrollably but also it is so so smart and I love it so very much. and me answering quickly is because my inbox is extremely empty and criminal minds has been in my brain so much (also hotchniss being Jj’s parents? Yes. Immediately yes.)

warnings: mentions of Hotch leaving (no Jack in this), mentions of scratch, angst, crying, anxiety, Hotch being referred to as ‘dada’ & Emily as ‘mama’, pet names in general

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

-

Emily bows her head into her hands with a deep sigh, looking down towards the small area under what once was Hotchs desk, she knows what it’s for and why it’s there but she can’t help but wonder if it’ll ever get used the same way again.

The floors padded with a few fleece blankets, both Halloween ones that Prentiss recognizes are taken out of Hotchs old hall closet, stuffed animals line the back wall, a bunny, a dog, a polar bear, and a small tiger. A small box accompanies the toys, filled to the brim with hair accessories and a plethora of different pacifiers.

It looks perfectly untouched from the last time the little girl Emily knows sneaks under there was in this office, she always stands akwardly at Prentiss’s door now, not daring to even set a toe inside. Although Emily has remodeled a bit, setting up pictures of her and the team on her new desk, putting a few of her beloved cat aside them, it still feels wrong for her to be behind this desk.

It should be Aaron. Perfect Aaron who spent his weekends with Jj and Emily, taking them anywhere they wished, holding Jj close to his chest whenever she wanted, Emily knows it’s not the same for either of them. It’s incomplete, not only the team but their trio, two black haired people and a blonde that no longer sew together seamlessly like a hand made quilt.

Instead they’ve all drifted, Emily and Jj not being able to contact Hotch for any reason until Scratch is found, Aaron all alone god knows where, doing god knows what, it pains Emily, though she thinks Jj might be in more anguish.

Jennifer looks close to tears anytime Hotch is mentioned, Prentiss knows she longs for her Dada. A nickname she’s only heard through passing phone calls on late night cases, when Jj thinks Emily is asleep and isn’t listening in to how soft Hotch sounds when Jj mumbles out random things while she laid on her side with her phone on speaker.

It makes it all that much harder to stare down to the crook of comfort that Emily keeps from when Hotch was here, she can’t bring herself to change a single thing, not until Jj tells her it’s okay at least. That day may never come and Prentiss has that gnawing thought at the back of her head daily, that Jj may never slip again, may never be able to step foot into this office without crying.

The days pass deathly slow, ticking second by second, at least that’s how it feels anytime Emily is in the office. Not hers, she can’t refer to it as her own, even with her name on the door and belongings in the drawers, it’s still not hers and she feels out of place, like an intruder of the space.

-

Weeks go by and nothing changes. It’s still horribly painful to talk or think about Hotch too much, there’s still that look of disappointment on Jj’s face every time Prentiss walks out of the office and not Hotch, the shared looks of concern from the other teammates only growing stronger as the days go on.

Emily feels at a loss for what to do. How to help. Can she? Is there a way to help a little girl who’s dada just got ripped away from her without warning? She tries to find scratch, fighting her way with higher ups to get help with the search, it’s not enough.

None of it works or help or does a single thing, not that Prentiss had high hopes, she knows the only thing that will fix this is having Hotch back. Even a phone call would do more than all the tricks Prentiss is trying, just for Jj to hear his voice again, something other than the small recording Emily has caught Jj listening to on her phone as tears slowly drip down the blondes cheeks.

“Jj? Do you need something?” There’s a swell of hope in Emily’s chest when Jj shuffles into the office, actual feet inside, almost directly in front of the desk.

“Can- can I um…” The girl trails off with a fidget of her hands, pulling at her fingers and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. Prentiss has to remind herself to school her expressions, she’s well aware how Jj acts when she’s slipping, endless fidgeting and a mumble prominent in her voice.

“Would you like to sit under the desk?” The doors already closed, same with the shades, so Emily just gives a soft smile when Jj nods shyly then shuffles herself to the space by Prentiss’ legs.

“Jj?” Jennifer holds the stuffed polar bear up to her chest, legs crossed on top of the blanket, but what looks like tears building in her eyes.

“I- I miss Hotch. I miss him so much Em.” She chokes on her words, burying herself into the soft toy to conceal the tears and wetness in her tone.

“Oh sweetheart, I know, I do too. I wish he was here every day.” Emily’s heart cracks when Jj shifts to wrap one of her arms around Prentiss’ leg, hugging her knee to her face and keeping the bear between them.

“D-dada would- would let me hold onto him when he did paperwork, it’d make me feel better but- but it doesn’t make me feel better. I want him, I- I need him.” Jj begs quietly up to Emily, her head tilted up against Emily’s pant leg, tears staining the faded black material, Prentiss can only choke back her own tears while leaning to rest her hand in Jj’s hair.

“I know, I know, sweet girl. I don’t know how to help you, I wish I could go get him for you, I’m so sorry.” Emily stresses out the words around her own heavy breath.

“It doesn’t feel the same. I- I don’t feel the same.” A sob cracks free of Jj’s chest, the stuffed animal gets dropped out of her arm, instead she wraps around the fronts of both of Emily’s legs, crying high pitched against the black haired girl.

“Shh, Shh, I’m right here. I know it’s hard, nothing feels the same because it’s not. Hotch isn’t here, things are bound to change, to get messy, but I’m here. I’ll always be here, even if we can’t see Hotch.”

They stay in that position for a while, Emily bending to rub at Jj’s back, Jennifer wailing against Prentiss til she exhausts herself, Emily stays perfectly still when Jj eventually falls asleep against her legs, crying herself once the silence overtakes the room, pleading with nobody that Hotch will magically walk through the door and fix this disaster.

-

It never happens, a few more weeks and Hotch still can’t come back, it’s still Emily’s job to be in charge of the team and she still cries almost every time Jj slips under the desk to whimper to Prentiss about missing her Dada.

When they’re on a case or in front of the team it’s different, both are good at masking how torn up they are about everything, Jj has gotten quieter but nobody says anything, just like how nobody mentions how closely Emily has come to stick to Jj’s side.

She can’t help it, it’s what Hotch would do if he knew his little girl was upset. Aaron would assure Jj over and over til the blonde had no choice but believe him. It’s more difficult for Emily to get Jj to stop crying or to get her to do anything aside from staring at pictures of Hotch when she’s small, but she’s trying, they both are.

“Emily! Prentiss it’s Jj!” Emily can’t speed out of the office any quicker at Luke’s frantic yell from the round table room.

A million thoughts race around Emily’s head throughout the minute long sprint to the room, none of them come close to the image of Jj sobbing on the floor beside Reid. She’s curled into herself, head stuffed into her knees, arms over her head, body shaking with a small tremor, and sobs echoing throughout the room.

“What happened!?” Emily’s knees hit the floor in front of Jj in seconds, her worry overflowing as she looks helplessly over to Reid for an explanation, who looks up to where Garcia is staring down wide eyed.

“Garcia, what happened?” Emily’s voice is firm and serious, not meaning to snap but unable to stop herself.

“I- I was talking and- and we were talking about birthdays and today is Hotchs birthday and I didn’t think anything about it when I said it- but- but Jj started to cry and-.” It’s Hotchs birthday.

Prentiss knew that, she had meant to bring Jj into the office early today, they don’t have a case, just a paperwork and maintenance type of day, it should’ve been fine, but it slipped Prentiss’s mind and now she feels frozen in place listening to Jj cry.

“Okay, okay, all of you guys go to your desks, give her some space.” Emily orders after a beat of her mind reeling into how she hates that Jj has cried so much lately, almost never ending.

“Jj? Sweetheart, can we go into the office?” Emily asks in the softest tone she can muster with the lump in her throat, she wants to scoop up the girl in front of her, drive to wherever Hotch is staying, break his door in and force him to come home. Back to Jj. Back to them.

“I- I- I want Dada.” The blondes throat forces a strangled noise after the words that shatter Emily’s heart into nothing but dust.

“I know, we can go look at his pictures, I added a few new ones.” It’s about the only thing Prentiss feels comfortable changing, she’s taped some pictures of Hotch and Jj up on the walls of the small area under the desk, there’s one of all three of them that Emily added only a few days ago and Jj hasn’t seen yet.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jj creaks, lifting her head the smallest amount to blink up to Prentiss, her wet eyes seeming younger than Emily has ever seen, she nods instantly.

“I won’t leave, I’m not leaving, we’re just going to go into the office and try to relax.” A hum before Jj stands on shaky legs to take Prentiss’s hand, clinging to her side as they move down the hall slowly, Emily trying not to look at how the team is standing down in the bullpen with concern plastered across their faces.

-

“See, this one’s new.” Emily pulls the picture down, handing it over to Jj who sniffles the faintest smile onto her face.

It’s from one of the many aquarium trips the trio took before Hotch left, Jj’s on Hotchs back for a piggy back ride, her face a bright smile over Hotchs shoulder, while Emily stands pressed into Aaron’s side, they all look equally as excited to be there. It’s where Jj acquired the polar bear stuffed animal, Emily honestly wouldn’t be surprised if all of the toys were from a trip that the trio had been on.

“Do you think Dada looks at pictures of us?” Jj tips her head to Prentiss, smiling a little more when Emily nods. There’s no doubt in her mind that Hotch has a lot of pictures he’s been staring at, he did that before he left so she can only imagine what he’s like now.

“Of course, I think he has boxes filled with pictures of us.” Prentiss throws an exaggerated tone to her voice that makes Jj giggle, a significant improvement than her past crying.

“He always took lots of pictures.” Hotchs phone storage was perpetually clogged from all the times he pulled out his camera to capture moments of the girls or all three of them.

“He sure did sweetheart, and I bet he misses us just as much as we miss him, probably even more.” Prentiss has overthought a million times about what state Hotch could be in, definitely not a good one, not when he has absolutely nobody, at least Jj can lean on Emily or vice versa.

“He’s not coming back is he?” Jj asks in a whisper, Emily quickly shuffles farther under the desk with the girl, cupping a hand at her cheek.

“I don’t know darling, I wish I could give you more of an answer. But I do know that he is your Dada, no matter what, he will always love you and care about you.” Prentiss rubs her thumb against Jj’s cheek, relishing in how the blonde leans into her touch.

“And you’ll always have this space, we can always think about Aaron down here, with all his pictures and things he got you.” Emily keeps going, her eyes training over to just how many pictures of Hotch are displayed, even one of his ties is taped up after Prentiss found it in the desk drawer.

“Dada was right.” Emily hums confused to Jj, tipping her head for the girl to continue.

“You’re a really good mama, just like Dada says.”

[rexcen]

☆ When Bravery Struck

> oikawa x m.reader (fluff)

[a/n] this is my first fic so i am very sorry if it's bad however i really liked the idea so i made an account just to post this lel I think this is a lot of words also idk how much but I think it would be a lot LMAOO I feel like I'm catfishing people with this like this is probably complete ass

[N/N] - nickname

It had been such a stressful day, unfortunately a relaxing Saturday slowly turned into the shittiest evening imaginable. Piles of papers were littered on the countertop and surrounding floor of your desk. Running your fingers through your hair and leaning back you sighed. You had flunked two important tests due to stress and trying to regain yourself was a joke since none of the words from your notes were sticking to you.

Rolling your eyes, you checked the time seeing it was already 1:24am you closed one of your textbooks, pushing it aside, and dragging your computer towards you. You rose from your seated position and grabbed a bottle of alcohol you had from a few months ago out one of the cabinets in your small apartment. Being completely fed up is a good reason to drink like an idiot right? Apparently it was because you started downing the entire bottle while stupidly deciding to watch a romcom.

Stupid was the right word because you just couldn't stop thinking about Oikawa. You've had a crush on him for god knows how long though you would never actually tell him that per se granted that he could be with anyone in the entire school and you had zero luck with the few past crushes you've had. He was in the same class as you and sat next to you so you had the luxury of seeing him during classes. However you couldn't get one second of alone time with him since every time you were about to ask him to eat lunch with you, his fan girls would drag him away so you barely got time to truly hang out with him - the only other time you would see him is when you would go watch his volleyball practices after school which you quite literally would make time to go watch him play.

Coming to the end of the movie you were most definitely drunk and out of it. Opening your phone in a fit of giggles, your finger 'magically' found Oikawa's contact and clicked on it. After seeing the couple in the movie, you came to the conclusion that you really wanted to talk to him and that's exactly what you did. What happened after was a blur and that's the last thing you remember, besides getting on your feet and getting cozy underneath your blankets of course.

You woke up to loud knocks accompanied with the worst headache imaginable. Groaning you got up and went to see who the hell decided it would be wise to harass you so damn early in the morning. You slowly made it out the bed and trotted to the front door. "Coming!!" you shouted out, groaning while twisting the door knob wondering who could possibly be behind your front door.

Surprised couldn't be used to describe the absolute shock captured on your face as Oikawa stared right back into your eyes. "[N/N] I've been waiting soooo long let's go!!" Just as fast your expression turned to confusion as those words left his pretty lips. "What,, what are you talking about? Go where?" You grew even more confused as dismay washed his face "On our date?! the date you asked me to last night after confessing alllllll your love t-" A deep blush dusted your cheeks as you quickly slapped your hand over his mouth to hush him. The realisation came to you all at once making your nerves at ease "Wait.. Y-You like me too?" "Of course I do [n/n-chan] Iwa said it was obvious!!" Your cheeks turned an even darker shade of red as the space around you felt warm. He hugged you. "Let's finally go on that date now hm?"

[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!!