#i actually hung this on my wall today (as well as another painting and that julie poster i got at their last tour in november) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pjisskullourful · 2 months ago

Text

• His Canvas •

🎨 Ethan × reader

18+ readers only!! 🔥 sweet but smutty, explicit af

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

° you have been dating Ethan for a while and you decide that he's the one you want to lose your virginity to

wordcount: 10,027

° anon request: what about loosing your virginity to Ethan and like he knows that you desperately want him but he also knows and warns you that no matter her gentle he is, you probably won’t be able to walk the next day ° gigantic shoutout to queen @faye2607 for her amazing astrological insights that helped me figure out the direction of this fic& the title is inspired by a song from her spectacular spicy playlist 💋 [send your own request in here!] [or get more control& priority by booking a commission!]

° lyrics stolen from mia martina

° [ITA:] cristo: christ

paint my body boy, i'll be your canvas. don't talk to me, just show me your talent.

The fifth date and it was time for Ethan to show you one of his hidden talents - his strong artistic skills in the medium of painting. It was payback after you had shown him your hidden talent - knowing far too much about astrology. A lunchtime date at your apartment had ended with you putting hours into doing his birth chart. He had listened intently to every word, sitting on the ground with you as you had scribbled on different scraps of paper. He hadn't had someone explain this much about the zodiac signs to him before and you could tell he was actually interested, not just nodding while mentally wishing you would shut the Hell up.

It had taken up a lot of time, in fact it had taken up the remainder of the date. He had to rush off for rehearsals, leaving you in your self-created mess of enthusiastically sharing your special interest. He had to leave before the deed could be done.

The fourth date - you should have been sleeping with him by now. Every piece of media that you had ever consumed had told you that the third date was the magic one. A woman who didn't sleep with a man on the third date was frigid, prudish and not worth his time.

But now you were at the fifth date and you hadn't gone any further than second base. Your tongue knew his quite well at this point, but the question of what would happen if you let him do more than just unhook your bra hung heavy in the air.

He knew that you were a virgin (you had blurted this out during your second date) and it seemed he was determined to stay as respectful as possible. Potentially he was waiting for you to make the first move, but you kept finding distractions.

Was this what today's art project would be, just another distraction as you remained within your comfort zone? He had invited you to his apartment, but beyond telling you that it would include painting, you were in the dark of what he actually had planned. Was he going to teach you how to paint something? Would he ask if you could recreate the sketching scene from Titanic?

You had been to his apartment once before, but that was a quick stop in. This would be hours in his home.

It looked different to what you recalled, all of the furniture pushed out, towards the walls. In the lounge room, a large portion of the wood floors was covered by a plastic sheet. It clicked when you saw three canvases of varying sizes resting against the wall.

He came over to stand beside where you were, your eyes trying to locate the easels. He was dressed in a tank top that already bore smears of paint, all in different colours and different stages of fading to indicate the inconsistency of their ageing. When you looked at him, it was to find he was smiling and you felt yourself put at ease.

"I figured that we should do something less formal, something fun- 'cause you said you hadn't painted since you were a kid, right?" He said. "Which means the last time you painted was for fun and that's what we wanna do here- finger painting. You don't have to do anything that's focused on perfection. It's to just play in the paint, you don't have to try to impress me. Nothing too serious."

You snickered before you could stop yourself. "Sorry. It's just… you just literally always look like every situation that you're in is the most serious thing in the whole world."

He narrowed his eyes into a glare. "Just for that- you're getting the smallest canvas."

The two of you took up a place on the ground, cross-legged and surrounded by bottles of paint of seemingly every colour. He had one canvas laid out in front of him and, in the opposite of his threat, it was the smallest of the three. You had your own sitting in front of your folded legs, at a complete loss of where to start.

"Are you ready?" He asked, tying his hair away from his face into a quick, careless bun. "Or do you need more wine to get the creativity flowing?"

You picked up a bottle of lilac paint, popping open the lid and upending it over the blank white surface. "I've got it covered."

You squirted out a generous dollop towards the bottom right corner of the canvas, pushing it up in a half-circle. Then you collected a bottle of the darkest purple in sight. You worked at creating a gradient, adding in other shades of purple to fill out the canvas.

You kept sitting back to survey your progress, looking over it and letting your sticky hands rest. You couldn't stop yourself from seeing the imperfections - the different sections were inconsistent in size, the lines that separated them too obvious.

Then your overthinking became an issue for you to critique - surely you were thinking too much and messing this whole thing up. Your critical eye was keeping you from properly connecting with this process as he had intended. You worried that you were taking too long, so much of the canvas was still bare and he must be bored.

But when you looked up, you found that he wasn't progressing far ahead of you at all. His canvas had only one corner covered in a small swatch of light blue. Instead of paying any attention to his painting, he was watching you, a small, shy smile pulling at one cheek.

At once you felt self-conscious. "What? Am I doing this so terribly wrong?"

"No, not at all." He said, still looking amused. "I'm just… don't mind me. It's nothing, I'm just curious about your process."

"Does it look like I have any kind of process?" You asked. "Wait, but what about you? Or is this part of your process- studying me like a zoo exhibit?"

"I wasn't… you're cute, okay? And I was getting distracted, 'cause I just wanted to look at you."

You felt a stirring of giddiness in your gut as you smiled at him, it made you tremble, it made you want to take action. You broke eye contact just long enough to swipe your finger through a dollop of paint. "Well, that's not what I came here to do. I wasn't told that I'd be getting googly eyes on me." You leaned forward, across the space between the two of you. "I was promised painting."

You smeared the purple paint across his cheek and he smiled, no witty retorts lined up for this scenario.

"This paint is non-toxic, right?" You asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, that's good, because…" You put a darker shade of purple on your fingers before you dragged them over his other cheek. "Sorry, I just have a thing about symmetry. It would've driven me nuts looking at just one painted cheek."

"Good, I'm glad, I would hate for you to go nuts."

You looked down at his canvas. "You look like you've hit a bit of a creative block here, huh? Do you need some help?"

"Help?" He repeated.

"Yeah, maybe it's the canvas, maybe it's the wrong, like, medium, or whatever." You said. "Maybe if you painted on something else, it could give you a different perspective on what to paint."

He furrowed his brow, tilting his head to the side. "What are you suggestin-..." His eyes grew wide as he watched your movements. "What are you...what are you doing?"

You had grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pulling it off from over your head. "What if you painted on me?" You pushed yourself up onto your knees.

He gazed up at you. "What do you, um, are you sure?"

"Yeah." You said with a shrug. "You said the paint was non-toxic."

He was starting to smile as you continued taking off your clothes, wriggling free of your denim shorts. "I've never really painted on someone's body, and I don't even know if this is the right paint for that. But, that could be fun. I've already kinda got an idea in mind."

"You do?" Your face flushed, your heart pounding - the way you were trembling under his gaze was more intense than usual.

"Yeah." He had grabbed a paintbrush. "I could paint a fish scale design up-and-down your legs, to kind of make you look like a mermaid, mid-transformation or something. Does that make any sense?"

You nodded. "It does and I think that sounds really cool, I'd love to get turned into a mermaid."

"Okay." He picked up the mostly-blank canvas and moved it away, clearing the space in front of him, right before his folded legs. "Sit here and you can just stretch your legs out, or you can lay down if that's more comfortable."

You considered making a joke out of asking if he wanted you to spread your legs. But the words got stuck in your throat. You could feel the anticipation was thick in the air between the two of you and you were silently grateful that you had put on a cute, matching pair of lingerie.

It was the first time he was seeing your underwear, it was the first time anyone was seeing your underwear. You had been expecting this moment, both excited for and nervous over it. Your body had always been your secret, all of the parts that you didn’t like could be kept hidden.

But now you were exposing and entrusting yourself to him. You knew that he’d dated skinnier girls. Maybe there had been girls who could keep up with him in the gym - girls who had contoured muscles, where you had curves.

But if he noticed your stretch marks, it was for less than a second. His gaze spent most time on your face - this was where he was studying, trying to read what you weren’t saying.

You sat down with him on your left side, stretching your legs out straight in front of you. “Paint me like one of your French fishies.”

“Do you have any colour palette in mind?” He asked.

“None whatsoever.”

He had picked up one of the mixing trays, resting this on his knee, before he started to grab at different bottles of paint. “You started with purple over there, which I appreciate, ‘cause that’s my favourite colour. We could have these warm-toned purples…” He showed each colour to you. “And what I think would also look great, adding in some oranges. Again, in these warm-tones, ‘cause that’ll match the warm colour of your eyes.”

You smiled, he hadn’t required a second look to confirm the colour of your eyes. He already knew this detail beyond a shadow of a doubt. “That sounds good to me.”

He prepared the colours, squirting a few generous dollops onto the palette. You were experiencing what was the opposite of leering - there had been men on the street that had stared at your body for a greater length of time.

“If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, like if I put my hand somewhere that you don’t want it or anything- please, tell me straight away and I’ll stop, no explanation needed, I’ll just…” He demonstrated how quickly he could raise his hands into the air, making you chuckle a little, reminding you of a criminal getting a gun pointed at them. “Okay?”

You nodded with a smile. “Okay, thank you.”

He had wet the bristles of the brush with the purple paint, but he touched your skin with his fingertips. “Are there any ticklish or otherwise sensitive spots that I should avoid?”

You bit into your lip, it didn’t matter how respectful his gaze was, he was still able to make you blush. “No, you can touch me wherever.” His hand halted on your knee, his eyes growing wider. “I mean, when you’re painting, uh, when you’re painting on my legs.”

“Good to know.” He said, his hand holding firm to your knee as his fingers caressed over your skin.

When he did start painting on you, it seemed that he was picking the safest zone possible - creating his first cross over your ankle, the outside of your ankle. In precise strokes, he painted higher up your leg, the purple lines evenly spaced in a uniform pattern.

But watching the painting as it developed on your skin couldn’t hold your interest for very long. Soon, you had found something better to focus on.

“Now who’s studying who like an exhibit at the zoo?” He asked, meeting your eye as he paused to dip his brush back into the paint.

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “Where am I supposed to look, Ethan? You’re right in front of my face.”

“Are you complaining about that?”

“No…” You said, your voice smaller than before as you temporarily looked back to where he was progressing. “I would never complain about having you so close to my face.”

He was smiling as he readjusted how he was holding your leg steady, with his hand gliding up your skin until he could hold you firmly at the underside of your knee. “You’re so cute.”

Even beyond where he was touching, you could feel your skin heating up. “Really? You still think I’m cute, even after I smeared paint on you for literally no reason?”

“No, you had a reason.” He said, his paintbrush beginning to apply colour across your kneecap. “You were being cheeky, which does add to the whole cuteness factor you’ve got going. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you attacked me with paint, but I just hadn’t expected the date to go this way.”

“Is that so?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

The top of your knee was covered, but he didn’t move onto your thigh as you had been hoping. Instead he was guiding your leg over, allowing him to start on the other side of your ankle.

“Yep.”

“You didn’t plan this date- this quite messy date, to have the risk of my clothes getting dirty, so that you could offer to clean them at once?”

“No, I would never try to trick you out of your clothes.” He said.

“You wouldn’t have to trick me.” You said in response to the earnest look on his face. “You could just ask.”

“Apparently I don’t even have to do that.” He joked as he gestured to your current state of undress, making you giggle. “I’m really glad that you feel comfortable enough to sit here with me like this…”

You shrugged. “Comfortable, waiting for any excuse to take my clothes off in front of you. Same thing, right?”

His eyes were wider as he got distracted from turning you into a mermaid again, all of his attention placed on reading your body language. “Oh, is that what you were angling for?”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, a warm blush taking over your face. “Will it make you think less of me if I say yes?”

He placed the brush and palette aside, covering your unpainted knee with his hand. “Not at all.” The way his soulful eyes gazed into yours, there was no doubting his sincerity. “There is something very sexy about a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to communicate that.”

The change in adjective felt significant and now you were really blushing. “Not cute?”

“No, I meant what I said, sexy.” He said. “I think you’re sexy. I was thinkin’ that before you took your clothes off and I’ll still find you sexy when your clothes are on again.”

You smiled, feeling your heart overflowing with so many giddy emotions. But none of these could be translated into words, there was a lack of efficient language in your head right now.

You endeavoured to let your actions speak for you instead, planting a hand on either side of his face and drawing him in closer. You were still grinning as your lips met, with your fingers caressing his cheeks while one of his hands moved into your hair. Your chest swelled, the excitement pumping through your system faster than ever.

He put his arm around your waist and your bodies were even closer as he followed the hungry rhythm that you set. You grasped his shoulders as you felt yourself in what could have been familiar territory - you were comfortable kissing him, he had told you what he liked, you didn’t get nervous over this level of intimacy.

But the thoughts rushing through your mind kept you feeling that this was only half-familiar. You sunk into every sensation, but you were thinking of what else you could feel. The excitement was at a dizzying height and your breath grew shallower as you prepared for a diversion from regular indulgences. His hand on your back touched to where your bra was clasped shut, but it moved away far too quickly.

You pulled away, licking your lips. His eyes remained shut and you saw him remaining in that moment. You craved to know how the desire felt for him - what would you have to do to get him to share it?

“I believe you that this wasn’t how you wanted the date to go, but now that this is how it’s going…” You said, shifting in your dampened panties. “Can we let it go further?” His eyes had fluttered open as he held his hands at the middle of your back - if you had been clothed and in public, this wouldn’t have drawn stares that questioned the appropriateness.

“I wanna sleep with you.” You said as his eyes studied your face, trying to pick out the nonverbal cues he had learnt as you got to know one another. “Can we have sex?”

“You don’t wanna be a mermaid?” He asked.

You smiled as you replied. “Not anymore, I wanna be the girl who gets to say that you’re her first.”

His hand went to your cheek, drawing you in for more kisses. There were butterflies in your stomach, you were so thrilled that he hadn’t rejected you. You savoured each kiss, feeling how it was leading to something more, something grander.

“I want you.” He said, his lips remaining very close to yours. “I want you to show- will you show me how to make you feel good?” His eyes were staring directly into yours. “Will you show me the secrets of your body?”

The intensity of his gaze only heightened the impact of his words, making you start to lose your breath. “Yes, I want you to have them.”

His lips brushed against yours, making your eyes flutter shut before he whispered to you. “All of your secrets are safe with me. Do you wanna lay down and get comfortable for me?”

You didn’t suggest a change in setting, you paid little to no attention to all of the paint supplies surrounding you. You moved out of his embrace, ignoring the crinkling sounds that the drop-sheet made as you started to lie down. Flat on your back, you kept your eyes on him and the thoughtful expression that he wore.

He came over to sit beside your hip, keeping his hands to himself for the moment. “You don’t have to get totally naked if you don’t want to. There’s no need to take your underwear off if you aren’t comfortable with that.”

You readjusted, moving your hands up to the clasp of your bra because you were practically naked already and this felt like the next logical step. You took your bra off and his eyes travelled down to this part of your body, taking in more than anyone else had. You bit into your lower lip as you picked up the waistband of your panties, moving them down, until you could kick them off.

Your whole body was buzzing with adrenaline and you weren’t entirely sure how to act now that you were so far out of your depth. But he was there, so at least you weren’t facing this on your own.

“You can just tell me, at literally any second, if you aren’t enjoying yourself or if something makes you uncomfortable, okay? I need you to know that.” He said.

“Okay.” You said with a nod. “Do you think that you could take your shirt off? Just so that I’m not the only naked one.”

“Of course.” Instantly he grabbed for the bottom of his shirt.

You watched this keenly, a smile forming on your lips as your eyes moved over that perfect torso. “Nice.”

He chuckled as he tossed the shirt off to the side, some of his hair fell loose from the tie in this process. He smiled when your eyes met again. “Do a big stretch for me, okay?” He raised his arms up above his head and you copied this demonstration. You stretched all the way down to your feet, even pointing your toes. “Good. Do you feel that tension melting off of your body?”

“Yeah.” You said. “So, what is it that you wanted me to do exactly?”

“I wanna know how to treat you the way that you like, so if you wouldn’t mind giving me a kind of tutorial by touching yourself. Only if you want to. I think it will help you relax and it puts you in control of the situation, which is how I want it to be.” He said.

“Okay.” You said and you laid a hand down over your bare cunt. You weren’t sure how to start, but you knew that your pussy was getting desperate for attention.

You could see the encouragement in his eyes and you moved your thighs a little further apart. Touching lightly, you used your fingers to explore the curves of your crotch. You could feel how heated this area was as your fingers brushed over the tight curls of hair.

You massaged your labia, just letting the blood pool in this area for a moment. He leaned down alongside you, using an elbow to keep himself somewhat propped up. He seemed unable to determine where to rest his eyes, looking from your pussy to your face and back again, the most thorough audience you could ever have.

You slipped your hand down lower, extending two of your fingers. With these, you sought out your entrance. You weren’t surprised to find just how wet your cunt was as you moved your fingers for the hole. You spread yourself open with the tips of your fingers.

He leaned in closer, his breath warming your face before you felt his lips caressing yours. You kissed him back as you ran your fingers up-and-down the sides of your entrance. He broke away only slightly, murmuring against your lips. "Take your time, okay?" You kept your fingers in their steady motion as he looked into your eyes. "There's absolutely no hurry."

You nodded, unable to think of anything to say right now. He remained close, kissing you slowly, with little breaks in between so that he could keep watching you. You guided the tips of your fingers inside of your wet walls. You maintained control, only going in slightly, just to get your fingers coated in the eager moisture.

You took your fingers up, gliding them up to your clit. With your thighs clenching, you began playing with the sensitive bud. It felt exciting and dreamy straight away, making you want to keep going. He put one hand to the back of your head, cradling you here as his eyes moved from your face to your pussy again, almost like a pendulum swinging back-and-forth.

You rubbed the hood up-and-down, taken in by the building sensations. He was seemingly transfixed by you and you let him see you squirm. Your chest was tight and you started to press a little more firmly.

You didn't stop to question yourself, or give time for shame to sink in, instead you somewhat confidently followed what felt good. You swirled the tips of your wet fingers around your clit, making yourself quiver in the process. You kept going as your knees shook and he began pressing kisses to your lips again. You slipped into the momentum with him, your mouths moving in sync with one another.

You stopped your swirling, seeking out a different kind of stimulation. You extended your middle finger and moved your hand down, until you could penetrate your cunt. You went in properly this time, whimpering against his mouth as you pushed in deeper.

His curiosity prompted him to break the kiss and he looked down at your progress. Lightly, he placed his hand over the wrist of your occupied hand. “Does that feel good?”

It took effort to swallow. You were sure that your eyes and reactions were giving away your enjoyment. But he wanted to hear it. And that was intimidating, you weren't accustomed to speaking during masturbation. He wanted you to expose what you were truly feeling, inviting you to savour something you could occasionally feel ashamed of.

But you felt soothed, trusting he would take care of you and whatever you offered to him.

“Mm-hmm, yeah. I really like the way it feels.” You said.

“Do you wanna keep going?” He asked.

“Definitely.”

He smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Show me more.”

You had started to move your finger, going back-and-forth between your receptive inner-walls. He kissed you more, at the same time his hand was leaving your wrist, moving to cover your hand. He was just shadowing you at first, getting a sense of the momentum you had established.

Then you felt him properly grip your hand, this was followed by him adding to your pumps, guiding you to more defined conclusions. You couldn't determine if it was his influence or not, but you began to increase your speed. This allowed you to tap into some wonderful friction.

As you kissed him back, you could feel your gut tightening because you were anticipating the next level of this pleasure. You couldn't help it. You were feeling confident that an orgasm would happen, but first you needed to get through that intimidating loss of control, marked by wild tremors. It was all getting closer, you were sure of it.

“What do you usually do next? Do you go in deeper and try to get your g-spot?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” You said, keeping your eyes shut.

“Do you wanna show me, baby?”

Your breath shook, not filling your lungs as much as you hoped for. “Mm-hmm.”

His hand remained attached to yours as you began extending your finger in deeper. You concentrated on moving it the right way, bringing your other fingers flush to your wet labia. He was too distracted by watching you to kiss you presently. Your breath skipped again-and-again as you strived for consistency.

You found the sweet spot, warmth blooming into your tummy in response.

But you didn't get fixated on this stimulation. You moved your hand, acting on an impulse before you could overthink it and get scared. You removed your finger so that you could change the way his hand held yours, you relocated his hand to the bottom. Now your hand was going to guide his as he gained uninterrupted access to your bare skin. You pressed your finger into the back of his middle finger, giving him the indication that this was the one you wanted.

He didn’t rush, letting his finger get slowly swallowed by the warmth of your pussy. He took a moment to watch what he was doing.

When his eyes moved back to your face, you felt like you could have immediately caught fire under his gaze. It was intense, so intense that you didn’t know what to do.

Your only solution was to return his intensity by kissing him. You wrapped your arm around him and lifted your torso from the floor a little. You shut your eyes as you captured his lips with yours. You enjoyed a kiss that felt like it didn’t have to end - both of you had nothing but time to explore this new level of intimacy, which kept your heart fluttering.

You preferred the feeling of his finger in your cunt. Your appreciation for the thicker digit only increased when he began to curl it, reaching up once he was in deep enough. A little whine left your mouth because you were feeling amazed over how easily he had found your g-spot.

Even more amazing was what he could do with it. Dazzling tingles were spread all throughout your body as he ended every plunge of his finger by colliding with your g-spot. As he steadily worked his finger back-and-forth between your inner-walls he made you wait to feel the tip of his finger in that magical spot again. The anticipation made you squirm. And it was always worth the wait.

You couldn’t help the way that your hips started to move, excited little thrusts that worked to their own pacing. When you weren’t actively thrusting, there were twitches and shivers that took over your body. You clung to him even tighter, your fingernails pressing against his skin.

You were moaning before your mouths separated, the sound only getting louder once the kiss had ended. You held your eyes shut, trying to come to terms with the pressure that was building up at such a deep point inside of you. It was going to get overwhelming, already proving to be inescapable.

“Is-... does that feel good?” He asked.

You gave a little laugh. “Yeah, it’s-... do you really need to ask me that?” You met his gaze. “I thought it would be obvious that I’m liking it.”

A sly smile came onto his face as the movement of his fingers eased off slightly (it felt like he was giving you a chance to think, how considerate). “Well, yeah. But do you have any idea how sexy it would be to hear you saying all the things that you’re feeling and enjoying, the things you’ve never shared with anyone else before?”

“That sounds dirty.” You said.

“Yeah, you could call it dirty talk.” He said and you almost felt like laughing again. “Did you want to try it for me?”

You hesitated. “What if I’m not good at it?”

The first part of his response was to kiss you. “Don’t think so much about it, baby. It’s the honesty that makes it sexy, you don’t have to be poetic, or even grammatically correct. And no matter what you say, I will not laugh at you. I promise.”

You nodded as you looked into his eyes, not doubting him for a fraction of a second. His words were immediately believable because he almost always looked so damn serious.

“Okay.” You said, moving in closer to him and closing your eyes, this made it easier to feel like you could lose yourself in all of this.

You kissed him, trying to think without falling victim to overthinking. He let you feel more stroking from his finger and this helped you break free of any thought cycles. You caressed his cheek as his massaging continued to give you indescribable sensations.

“You can go faster…” You said, unable to get your voice above a whisper. “I wuh-... would you go faster for me?”

“Of course, I’ll do anything you want.” He murmured against your lips, his words quickly followed by kisses.

He pumped his finger with more speed and maybe he went in deeper too. This prompted more eager whines to swell up in you and he consumed them all instantaneously.

You had never felt closer to anyone else, you thought you might stay on this high for at least a day, maybe longer. “You’re making me… that feels so good.”

“Good, baby, that’s exactly what I want.” He said, his voice was the perfect companion to all of the sensations rushing you. “Can I try a second finger?”

“Yep, I wanna try that.” You said.

His lips went to your very warm cheek as he retracted his finger, just the tip of it held by your cunt. Then he eased a second fingertip into this space.

Slowly he extended both fingers and your cunt adjusted for this. He didn’t rush for depth and you felt a new kind of warmth rushing out from your core, reaching down both legs. It was decadent, inviting you into the sweet surrender.

“Breathe deep.” He said in between kissing on your cheek.

You did this, your chest trembling in the process. At the same time you were feeling his fingers going deeper. You followed with another deep breath while your attention was primarily consumed by the gentle spreading of your cunt. It was more important than your breathing rate currently was.

“Is that too much?” He asked.

“No, I like it.” You said.

“That’s perfect.” He breathed into your ear.

He wasn’t stopping, there was still more of his fingers to fill you. Your cunt continued to accommodate this with the eagerness that you felt with each heartbeat. There was a pressure starting in the deepest part of you and you knew exactly what it could lead to.

Once his fingers were entirely buried inside, he tensed them. Then they curled and he was reaching for a different angle. Your breath caught when you realised he was going for your sweet spot again.

Both of his fingertips crashed into your g-spot, making your head fall back. You latched your hands onto him, gripping with all of your strength. You arched your back, feeling even more pressure at your core.

“Oh, Ethan…” You rasped as he brought motion into his fingers, bringing them back so that he could repeatedly push into your sweet spot.

Your hips were rocking again. Your movements weren’t perfectly synchronised to him, you didn’t have the coordination for that. This was just about using some of the powerful energy in your body, and the bits of friction you earned felt like an extra reward.

“Do you wanna come?” He asked.

“Yeah, yes, I do, I really wanna.” You said.

He moved his fingers faster again, until his treatment of your sweet spot was relentless. You could feel yourself beginning to fall apart, your sensitivities absolutely dominating you.

“Alright then, come for me.” He said.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him watching you, a careful stare that noticed every reaction. You were too filled with ecstasy to get weighed down with the insecurity that you would look ugly as you orgasmed. You let any thinking like that go.

And before too long, the pressure inside of you was snapping. You swore as your body jerked into his. It felt like all of your muscles were melting and you were grateful for his arm around you to keep you at least a little steady.

He pulled his fingers out of you, enabling him to wrap his other arm around you. As the warmth of your release started to peter out, the warmth of his body comforted you. His lips covered your forehead with kisses as you started to catch your breath again.

“Good girl.” He whispered. And even though this was the first time you had heard this, you immediately liked its sound. “You’re such a good girl…” You had started to smile, feeling like you had earned this compliment. “Good fucking girl.”

“That felt amazing.” You said, still elevated by the tingles in your body.

“Thank you for sharing your secrets with me.” He said and you lifted your head as you began to keep your eyes open for longer. “I appreciate it.”

You were infatuated by the high that filled you, and it had spawned from him. You caressed his cheek as you admired him. “What about your secrets?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it can’t just be all about me. What about how you’re feeling? I hope that got you turned on.” You said.

“Oh, it did, it really did. You don’t have to worry about that.” He quickly told you.

“Good.” You said and you placed a kiss on his lips. “So, don’t you wanna have sex?”

“No, I do, I definitely do. The idea of being your first is appealing to me, very appealing.” He said. “But I don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

You sat up, feeling more assertive. You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him. “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing. In this context, being overwhelmed could be a great, fun thing, right?” You gave him some more kisses. “I know that some people really like overwhelming their partners. It’s okay if that’s a thing you aren’t really into. But I’m not against-”

“It’s not that I’m not into…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Even if we put that aside, approval or disapproval, whatever. Beyond that, no matter what I do, no matter how gentle I try to be: it’s going to hurt you. That’s just the nature of first times, and I only want to make you feel good.”

“It can’t be that bad.” You said while you were still feeling brave.

“You might not be able to walk tomorrow.” He said.

This was such a dramatic statement that you couldn’t help the way you burst out laughing. This was something that would get said in porn, not real life. It was so unexpected and over the top that you couldn’t take it seriously, not at first.

Then you realised that he wasn’t laughing with you. He wasn’t smiling, not even a little bit.

Feeling awkward, you raised a hand up to cover your mouth as you started to get your laughter under control. As the sound died down, he continued to look at you with that serious expression.

“Sorry, I really thought that you were joking.” You said.

“No, I’m just trying to prepare you for what will probably happen if we sleep together.” He said.

As it got clearer that he wasn’t going to reveal this as some sort of prank, you tried to wrap your head around what he was actually saying. It seemed that he meant these words he was saying, so you needed to figure out how that made you feel. It was difficult to know how to respond to something so unexpected.

“Honestly, I don’t know-... I don’t get it. How is losing my virginity gonna affect my ability to walk?” You asked.

He cast his eyes down, taking an extra moment to gather his thoughts as he swallowed. “It’s ‘cause you wanna lose it to me. And I’m…” He hesitated, sighing. “This is gonna make me sound like such a fucking douchebag. But I’m- well, it’s kinda big. And your pussy, and your body are gonna go from nothing to a lot. It could turn out to be more than you can take.”

You definitely didn’t feel like laughing now. “Shouldn’t it be up to me to decide what I can or can’t take?”

“Baby…” He sighed.

You put your hands to his cheeks, easing him into looking up at you, meeting your eye again. “I appreciate you trying to, like, warn me. But I’m not worried like you are, and I don’t want to get into that headspace. I don’t have work or any kind of plans for tomorrow, so I can spend the entire day in bed, off my feet if I need to. I believe this will be worth it.”

You saw his lips part and you rushed to add another point before it was his turn to talk. “Please don’t ask me if I’m sure, because I definitely am. I couldn’t be anymore sure than I am of the fact that I wanna lose my virginity with you.”

“You’re really sexy when you’re all assertive like this.” He said, hints of a smile coming onto his face. “I can’t say that I’m not attracted to this side of you.”

“Explore it with me.” You said, inching closer to him as you were feeling encouraged again. “Stop worrying and just…”

You concluded your thought by putting your lips to his. To you, everything was so clear in that kiss.

But he gently broke it before you were ready for it. “Not here.”

He secured your hand in his then started to get up from the ground. You were grinning as you stood up as well. He led the way and you keenly kept up with him, heading for the hallway that led to his bedroom.

You had only been passing by this room before. The uncharted territory was very exciting.

He walked toward the bed, but turned to you rather than sitting or lying down. His eyes appraised you and you felt quivers throughout your body as his hands caressed your naked sides.

He licked his lips as you eased yourself in closer, feeling his body heat touching your skin again. He let you initiate the next kiss, stepping up the intimacy. He kissed you back as you put your hands on his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you to press against him. As you enjoyed this closeness, you got the sense that he had stopped being so consumed by his worries. And so you didn’t have to keep yourself prepared for this embrace to end at any second.

You slid your tongue past his lips, tasting him deeper. At the same time he trailed his fingertips down your back. You felt so secure with him like this, even though you couldn’t predict what he was going to do next.

He didn’t rush you to progress, it seemed that he was perfectly happy to just go on kissing you. You tapped into your assertive streak, initiating the next step as you desired it. You moved your hands to the top of his chest and pushed, only separating from his mouth once it was absolutely necessary.

He knew what you wanted without you having to speak. He backed up a couple of steps. Once he was close enough, you gave him a proper shove, getting him to fall back and land on the bed, his hair (which had come completely loose at some point) fanned out in the air around his head. Before he could get settled, you proceeded to place yourself on top of him. He put his hands on your body, supporting you as you climbed on top, bracing yourself with a knee on either side of his hips.

He gathered your hair up in his hands, holding it away from your face as you swooped down to capture his lips. As you kept kissing him, you pressed more of your body into him, gradually bringing more of your weight to rest on him.

When you eased your tongue into his mouth again, he moved his hand to the back of your head, encouraging you as he gently held you in place. Serving your greediness, you started to grind your body on him. At the same time you were massaging your tongue on the roof of his mouth. You could feel his body responding to you and it invigorated you.

“You’re so perfect.” He said as you moved your lips lower, exploring onto his chin, and then throat. “Your sexiness: I can hardly believe it’s real.”

You paused, so surprised that you had to look at him. “How do you think I feel when I’m looking at you? You’re so unbelievable, Ethan.”

He gave you a quick kiss. “We can stop anytime you need to.”

“Thank you. But that feels like the opposite of what I need.” You said. “Please keep talking to me. Through the whole thing: please just talk to me, that’s what I need. But not like I’m a virgin that you have to over-explain everything to. Talk to me like I’m any other girl.”

“But you’re not any other girl.” He said.

Whatever you had been planning to say next promptly went flying out of your head. As you stared at him in the aftermath of that statement, you felt like you could have melted. You rushed to memorise these unexpected words.

A moment was necessary to gather yourself. “Just don’t feel like you can’t do shit with me. I don’t know what I don’t like, not really. So I wanna try heaps of stuff, everything. It’s gonna be amazing for me, no matter what. But I want it to be amazing and fun for you too.”

He lifted himself up a little, kissing you. “It already is, babe.”

He wrapped his arms around you as he readjusted, getting himself into a sitting position. Your body was controlled, ultimately moved off of his. He guided you onto the bed, then showed you that he wanted you to lay down on a pillow. You complied, getting comfortable as his attention went to the nightstand.

“I’ve got a lubricated condom here.” He said and you saw the small, packaged item now in his hand. “That should help us with, um, the fit. But if it starts to hurt, I need you to tell-...”

You placed your hand over his, giving it a brief squeeze to ensure that you had his attention. “I will. Could I see it, so I know what I’m preparing myself for?”

He held the square wrapper up for your benefit. “It says extra lube on the packet, but I’m sure it looks just the same as any other condom.”

“Uh-huh, I meant your cock.” You said. “And I think you know that. Please? You’ve been seeing me naked for hours now.”

He bobbed his head as he moved his hands down to the fly of his jeans. “Okay, you’re right.”

You did your best to affix your poker face (you hoped it was enough to convince him that you weren’t intimidated, as it was enough to convince your co-workers that you were genuinely interested in small talk with them).

He got the pants undone and down. As he removed them altogether, your eyes went to the shape that was pressing against the inside of his briefs. Your breath came in a little quicker as you properly registered the fact that you were about to see something you had fantasized about many times.

He started to take the underwear down, and quite quickly his cock sprung free. Your eyes grew wide because it was big - he hadn’t been over-exaggerating from a place of ego. You thought that both of your hands wrapped around it wouldn’t be enough to cover the entire length.

“Do you remember what I was saying a couple of minutes ago- about how you’re unbelievable” You asked as he removed his briefs. “Yep, I’m very confident that I chose the right word.”

He smiled, looking bashful. “Thanks, babe. We can take it as slowly as you like, I don’t want it to be too much for you.”

You parted your legs, creating a space that he could fill. “What if I want it to be too much?”

“You’re very ambitious, huh?” He asked as he tore into the condom wrapper. “Is that something that was covered in your birth chart?”

“Oh yeah, it’s in there. Does the ambition take away from my sexiness, or does it add to it?” You asked. You were hoping it wasn’t making you seem rude the way you couldn’t consistently make eye contact with him. You were getting distracted by watching him put the condom onto his erection.

“Adds to.” He said with a decisive nod. “Nothing could take away from how sexy you are.”

He got all of his shaft covered, then he started to lie down with you. He took his turn to be on top, kissing you as he settled into this new position.

You had never felt his body like this before, with nothing to interrupt or distract from the sensation of skin-on-skin. You didn’t mind the way this kept you from totally filling your lungs. Instead your focus went to noticing the brand new spots where you could feel his body connecting with yours. You were excited by what you didn’t know, rather than intimidated. You wrapped your arms around him, thrilled by the possibilities to be explored.

“Mm.” You hummed against his lips. “Are you gonna show me the secrets of your body?”

He caressed your hip, giving it some experimental squeezes, which you were definitely enjoying. “Yes, I’m gonna for you, my good girl.”

The hints of possessiveness in his tone pleased you, added to the intoxicating feeling in your head. You kissed him because you didn’t have any words worthy of saying right now. You knew you wouldn’t be able to express how marvellous it felt being wanted more so than you ever had been before.

He did some readjusting in the space between your legs, only one of his hands held onto you as he altered how his body weight rested on you. This led to you feeling something new pressing against you, high up on your inner-thigh. It took you a moment to recognise that this was his erection. The realisation made your heart skip over some beats.

The curiosity was burning through you. But you weren’t left waiting long to feel his dick on your crotch, being directed to your entrance. You kept kissing him, concentrating on what you knew you could handle.

You felt some pressure at your entrance, but it didn’t progress to anything more than that. You thought his hesitation had everything to do with you. Without separating from his lips, you showed him that you were ready for more by grinding your hips on his.

Your eagerness only grew with the tentative tempo that you moved your hips with. You could feel how sensitive from the earlier orgasm your pussy still was. The blood rushing back into this area made you notice a throbbing.

You got your hips lined up in a way that allowed you to drag your pussy up-and-down his shaft. You rubbed your wet heat along him, prompting him to wrap an arm around your middle, holding you firm to his body. The sounds of your lips meeting was soon accompanied by his quick inhales.

Your confidence in your movements was continuing to grow, but he was soon interrupting by drawing his hips away. There was some distance between your bodies, and you instantly disliked it.

But before you could figure out how to fix it, he was coming back to you. The first thing you felt was his cock, the tip pressing into your cunt. He didn’t pull it back this time. Instead you got to feel the increasing pressure that came from him beginning to fill into you.

You clung to him tighter than before, depending on the security of his embrace through these brand new sensations.

He paused while there was still more length to be buried into you, his arms tensed as he braced himself. “You okay, baby?”

Your heart was racing and you could feel quivers rushing through your system as you stood on the precipice of more. “Yeah, yep, I can take it.”

“Breathe deep.” He said, those serious eyes watching you carefully.

You nodded, but this very simple instruction took more effort than usual to complete. Your chest slowly inflated as you drew in a shaky breath. Your eyes fluttered shut and you moved your focus to how the breath felt.

As you were exhaling you felt him move closer, pushing in deeper. The pressure seemed to become more evenly distributed through your body, a presence you had to acknowledge.

“Good girl.” He said, inserting more of his length gently. “Do you like it?”

It was all-encompassing and the hints of intimidation only added to your excitement. Everything you were feeling was brand new, an intensity you had never achieved before.

And you knew you wouldn’t be the same after this.

“Yes, I really do.” You said.

He smiled, while appearing just as serious as he always did. He kissed you softly and you immediately responded, parting your lips and showing him more passion.

A moan was passed from your mouth to his as you felt him coming deeper again. One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers tangling into his hair. Your body was burning for him as you tried to prepare yourself for more.

His tip gently spread you further and you sucked on his top lip in response. More needy little sounds built up in your throat as your pussy adjusted to him.

With his lips still touching yours, he spoke. “You feel so good and you’re doing really well for me.”

You were continuously clenching and relaxing for him, your body’s only priority was to accommodate him. His kisses moved down to your throat again. Your mouth stayed open, trying to reclaim some air for your lungs.

He slid an arm beneath your body, lifting you from the bed. Locked in his embrace, you felt how he started to move, no longer just filling you. Between your sensitive walls, he rocked his dick, hitting new spots, all of them so receptive.

You swore under your breath as you marvelled at how perfect this motion felt. It was accelerating everything, while still giving you moments to slightly recover.

Your fingers clenched around the strands of his hair when he got a little faster. He moved with less hesitation, showing you more of what he could do with this determined rhythm. Your system pumped a gooey-kind of warmth through your body, the pleasure affecting so much of you.

He whined against your skin as he powered deeper. Your body jerked up into his as you were surprised by a new level of intensity.

“Uh, Ethan…” The syllables came out as strangled noises - nothing like how you were used to hearing your own voice.

“Are you gonna come for me again?” He asked and you felt his firm hand caressing the side of your face.

Opening your eyes to find him staring at you made your heart do a somersault and it felt like your knees turned to jelly. But you felt so safe, he didn’t need to say it.

“I want to.” You said and you turned your head, repositioning your mouth so that you could lick his thumb. “I really want to. But I want you to come, so badly.” You wrapped your lips around his thumb, giving it a brief suck. “Please, I want it. I want you to come.”

He gasped and you saw a new look in his eyes as you sucked more. Had he started to pump into you harder, or were you just getting more sensitive to his movements?

“Yeah, I- fuck, I will, baby. I’ll tell you when I’m getting close.” He said.

You kept his thumb in your mouth. You did your best to hold your eyes open, wanting to see the reactions dawning on his face. His responses, even in their subtlety, made you feel like you were doing it right, something you hadn’t expected.

“It’s not hurting?” He asked.

“Fuck no.” You said as quickly as you could.

He showed you a relieved smile, still working his hips into yours. His thumb left your mouth as he moved his hand lower, grabbing your hip.

“Baby…” He cooed. “Can you follow my lead?”

“Mm, uh-huh.” You said, knowing he would make sure this was something you could handle.

“Good. Move with me.” He said, and with a pull on your hip, he got you to rock up. “Mmn, yep, keep moving just like that.” You repeated the motion, feeling less uncoordinated than before. Then he was matching his movements to yours, adopting a different pace. “That's good. Yes, that's good. Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” You said, finding you could slip into a momentum without too much difficulty. To help brace yourself, you laid your hands against his sculpted chest. “I really fucking like it, Ethan.”

He held an arm under your body, supporting you away from the mattress and guiding more of you into the tempo. You were proud when you could consistently match him, your inexperience wasn’t leaving you behind.

The way your bodies matched felt Heavenly. The synergy was more than you had anticipated, feeding into the desire that burnt in your gut. You thought that every place where your skin met his would be marked with this lust for hours afterwards.

“This tight pussy was worth the wait.” He said.

He moved you into rocking quicker and you could pick up this tempo, feeling confident that this motion was something maintainable. It heightened the pleasure, your heart going faster because your widespread tingles were gaining power. You felt the excitement everywhere, your body becoming primed for the release.

With every movement creating more thrilling sensations, you started to go quicker, wanting to lessen the time spent between those rewarding peaks. You rutted yourself into him at your new, energetic tempo.

When he began matching you, he glided in deeper and made contact with your g-spot. Fireworks filled up your mind and your lungs froze around the current breath. Before he rocked back, you thought you could lose yourself entirely.

His next pound concluded at your sweet spot as well, then the next and you were soon consistently seeing fireworks. Keeping quiet was no longer an option, not while your composure was being turned into shreds. You wordlessly sobbed, getting louder than the sounds of your bodies collisions.

“Don’t stop, please.” You begged before he could have the chance to pause and check in with you. “Please don’t stop, please, please, baby please. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”

He didn’t falter, not missing a single jolt. You weren’t able to keep your eyes constantly open. But when you did gain a glance at him, you saw the expression on his handsome face, it was full of concentration and looked similar to clips you had seen of him drumming an especially intense part of one of his songs. It didn’t matter when you looked, he was always watching you.

“I know you’re getting close.” He said between little grunts of effort. “I can see that you’re fucking blissed out, it’s so gorgeous. So, so fucking gorgeous and sexy…”

The pressure was so intense that it felt like it could split you in half. But that wasn’t enough to make you stop. You remained invested in this rewarding momentum.

“Come for me.” He coached in a strained whisper. “You’re right there, I know you are. Come for me like the good girl you are.” It started to sound like a chant and you were shuddering wildly against him. “Come, cuh-um…”

Something so deep inside of you burst, a significant rupture and you instantly let everything go. You threw your head back and cried out in triumph. You lost yourself entirely, feeling the most powerful afterglow of your life.

He whimpered and groaned, writhing against your overworked body. But it was only for a moment longer. Then he pressed himself against you, swearing and saying your name as he completely dropped out of the rhythm.

“Cristo…” He sighed as he rocked his body weight back from you.

You were satisfied, but tender. Parts of your body ached and throbbed with slight hints of pain. The exertion had been incredible and you thought it could take longer than an hour for you to start feeling any energy returning.

He murmured your name and you looked to find him surveying you with a deeply concerned expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I promise I am. I’m just… you’ll have to forgive me for being a little out of it, my whole world was just rocked and I lost my virginity.” You said, caressing his cheek. “Did you see which way it went?”

This relaxed him enough to show you a slight smile. “No, I’m sorry. I think it’s gone for good.”

You lifted yourself up so you could kiss him. “I’m not sorry.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #ethan x y/n #ethan x reader #ethan torchio fic #maneskin x virgin y/n #losing your virginity to ethan fic

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allthewriteplaces · 1 year ago

Text

Magnolia in May ~ Chapter Four

Author's Note: Oh, look, I'm actually on time for once! Anyway, to all of my American friends who are celebrating today, Happy Thanksgiving, and to the rest of you, I hope you're having a great week, but if not, here's a big hug!

Chapter Summary: Jessie spends more time with the kids, who give her a tour of the house.

Chapter Warning(s): None

Word count: 2466

Chapter Four

Mrs. Milligan arrived shortly after we left the ballroom and so we had to cut our tour short, much to Ruby’s disappointment, since she was really looking forward to showing me the upstairs, but I promised her that we would continue the tour later once they were finished and that she and Charlie could show me what they learned in class if they wanted to, seemed to lift her spirits again.

Frances showed me to my room while the children were starting their music lesson. She led me up a flight of stairs, where a family portrait hung from the walls.

The woman, I assumed, was Mrs. Shelby.

Adorned in a mahogany dress that complimented her figure perfectly, she stood, facing the painter and her lips, which matched the colour of the dress, looked as though she were holding back a smile. Her blonde hair was curled and brushed against her blushing cheeks.

On her lap, Charlie sat, dressed in a mustard-coloured shirt with buttons, blue stockings and a pair of black dress shoes. His head was almost dead centre, his hair was much darker back then, I noted, though his eyes still held that mischievous sparkle, and he was facing away from the painter, instead, looking up at his father.

Several things told me that he was the main focus of this painting, the first being that he was framed by the bodies and inclined heads of his parents. Secondly, the light, possibly coming from a lamp in the room where this work of art was created, hit his face fully, unlike the part-shaded faces of his parents. Thirdly, his posture unified the composition as he looked towards, though probably not quite at, his father from his mother’s breast.

Yes, Charlie was the centre of their universe, that much was clear.

Thomas hadn’t changed much, I noticed. He still wore that same, thoughtful expression, as though his mind was elsewhere, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself tied down to Earth.

There was another painting as well that caught my eye.

Her expression was far from warm, unlike in the last portrait, in fact it could be described as judgemental, like she could see through me and my confident facade; but there was something, almost like devotion, in her eyes as well. She was bathed in a halo of white light, making her appear almost angelic and for some reason, I found it difficult to tear myself away from her gaze.

Walking down these halls, I thought, was like entering a museum.

Everything was pristine and perfect and elegant, and my room, which was not far from the staircase, was no exception. The windows were huge and framed in fine, elaborate frames and they looked out over the sweeping countryside.

Where else am I going to get a view like this? I thought.

The sound of a car door slamming shut prevented me from speaking my thoughts out loud. In the corner of my eye, I saw a silver car pulling up in the driveway and a pretty brunette opened the passenger side door and stepped out of it, a smile spreading on her face as Thomas approached her, placed a hand on her lower back and led her away to the stables.

“That’s Miss Carleton,” said Frances, nodding to the woman and then leaned in to add. “Comes around here every week to train Mister Shelby’s racing horses. She’s quite wealthy, they say. Owns her own prize-winning stud.”

“Apparently she stays overnight as well?” Frances’ eyes became saucers, widening in horror at the question I just asked.

“Ah, I suppose Master Charlie and Miss Ruby already told you about Miss Carleton,” she sighed while shaking her head, “they’re too smart for their own good, the pair of them. I’m warning you now, Miss, they will keep you on your toes until it feels like you’re dancing on a tightrope keeping them out of trouble.”

“Don’t worry. This isn’t my first time as a governess. Besides, I have five younger cousins at home. I’m used to it.”

“Good. Having an extra pair of hands will be a blessing.”

Laughing, I turned away from the window and my eyes landed on a wardrobe. It was dark oak, or at least that’s what it looked like to me, since I had seen similar ones in my friends’ houses. My hands gripped the handles and I gently swung open the door, expecting it to be empty, but it was full of clothes.

Dresses. Expensive ones, too.

“Those are the clothes you will wear while you stay with us,” said Frances. Shock was written on my face, I could see it in the mirror. It sounded almost too good to be true, these nice clothes, a spacious bedroom, it was more than someone like me, of my station, could possibly ask for. “Mister Shelby insisted that you have something new, as a way to symbolise your new life here. Speaking of which, he requests that you join him and the children for dinner this evening, shall I tell him you will be attending?”

All I could do was nod in response.

“Very well then. I will send someone up in a moment to collect your old clothes, in case you would like to have them washed. There’s a basket just there.” She nodded toward a wicker basket in front of the wardrobe. “In the meantime, I’ll give you some time to settle in, and if you need anything else, give me a shout.”

“Of course.” I replied, “Thank you, Frances.”

With a polite bow of her head, she scuttled toward the door and the second it clicked closed behind her, I exhaled. Now I was alone, standing in the middle of the room, the light of the window shining in. I stepped over to it, taking a moment to admire the view.

Never had I seen such beauty, and I could only stare in amazement. I saw my suitcase against the wall. Having some free time on my hands meant that I could start unpacking my belongings.

Unzipping the suitcase on the floor, I kneeled in front of it.

First, I took out my Bible, the one my mother bought for me, my name written in pen on the front cover, and set it on the floor beside me. My aunt had also packed a new diary for me. At home, we were encouraged to keep a diary, as a way of reflecting on ourselves, but also as a safe space to sort through our thoughts and feelings. It was small, with a black cover and a gold bookmark. I set it on top of the Bible.

The portrait of my family went beside them. I wouldn’t be seeing them anytime soon.

Next, I began to sort through the layers of clothes Eliza had packed. The clothes I regularly wore — loose dresses, frilly, puffed blouses and fluted skirts — were more suited for housework, and some of the nicer ones were reserved for Sundays, picnics or house parties, which we were sometimes allowed to go to if they were held by close friends or neighbours.

Keeping them all folded, I set them nicely into another pile. The few things I had managed to bring with me didn’t add up to much, but they were the last few things tying me to my life back home, my family, and my faith.

God has always been by my side during the toughest times in my life, showed me where to go when I was lost and unable to find my way, and it’s His will that brought me here to these children and to help them prepare for the world outside these doors.

Standing up, I started putting things away in drawers and wardrobes and put my Bible on my bedside table. I didn’t pin Thomas as the ‘Church going’ type, but perhaps on Sundays, I would be allowed a few hours in the morning to pray before tending to my other duties.

With my suitcase now empty and the old clothes in a small brown basket, I settled into my chair by the window with a sigh and a soft smile. The warm sunshine and gentle breeze from outside served as the perfect companion. A sense of peacefulness washed over me.

I could definitely get used to this.

I uncapped my pen, and opened my diary, turning to the first blank page.

Saturday, May 10th 1930

Gosh, where do I begin? One minute I am in the nursery, playing with my cousins and now I am sitting in my room in a breathtaking mansion that looks like it’s been standing here for hundreds of years! If you had told me I was living in a museum, you wouldn’t be that far off. And you should see the new clothes in my wardrobe! They are the kinds of dresses I would see all the other girls wearing to garden parties and evening soirees. Don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly thankful that my employer has gifted me with such lavish dresses, but I would have been just as content wearing my old clothes — though I suppose I might donate those once we get them washed.

I was deep in my thoughts when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door. I lifted the pen from the paper, laid my diary on top of my Bible, sat down on the mattress, and then told whoever was on the other side of the door that they could come in. The door clicked open to reveal Frances standing in the doorway.

“Pardon the interruption, Miss,” she began and then glanced down at Charlie who stood next to her, clutching his violin and bow in his hands and smiling rather proudly. “Master Charlie said he wishes to show you what he learned today.”

The boy nodded eagerly and judging from the wide smile on his face, I could tell he was impatient to regale us with some music, so I fixed my position on the bed and then beckoned them both to come in with one hand.

“Well, then, there is no time to waste!” I said, enthusiasm in my voice, and watched as he prepared himself to play. He knew exactly how to hold the instrument and where to put his delicate fingers, and when he dragged the bow across the strings…. Let’s just say it wasn’t the most pleasant sound, but he just looked so happy and proud of himself, that neither Frances nor I had the heart to discourage or criticise him.

The piece only lasted a few minutes and when he finished, we both clapped and he took a deep bow. He set the bow and violin to the side and then sat next to me on the bed, catching his breath. “It’s not as good as when Miss Milligan plays it, she makes it sound like fairy music.”

“Practise makes perfect,” I said, hoping I sounded encouraging and proud of what he did manage to learn. “The more you keep working on it, the better you will become, and who knows? In a few years, you’ll be standing up there on a stage and people will be cheering your name.”

“Really?” he asked, excited.

“Really,” I answered. I glanced toward the doorway again when I heard someone else knocking. Frances opened it and Ruby came bursting in. She plopped herself on my lap, which took me by surprise, but I held onto her so she wouldn’t slip. “Hello, there, Miss Ruby.”

“Jessie! I learned a new song today, too!” she exclaimed, practically jumping up and down because of how excited she was, “and I can play it all by myself!”

“Tell you what,” I said, adjusting her body so that she was seated more comfortably, “perhaps after dinner, you can show me what you can play. In the meantime, I think I was promised a continuation of our tour.”

We still had a bit of time left on our hands before we would need to start getting ready for dinner, so I didn’t see the harm of continuing to explore the estate. Ruby slid off my lap and then dashed out the door and Charlie followed after her, leaving his violin behind.

“I’ll take that in,” Frances volunteered, “you’d better go.”

Thanking her, I called after them. “Wait for me!”

“Hurry up!” Charlie yelled back. “You’re like a turtle!”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” I tutted and they started running, their shoes slapping against the hardwood floor, as I allowed them to lead me through the halls, show me all their favourite rooms, including a playroom, filled with toys and books, and even a rocking horse.

“Wanna try it?” asked Charlie and I laughed.

“Hm, I’m not as small as I used to be. I might not fit.”

“Please?” Ruby begged, her brown eyes twinkling in the light coming from the window. Charlie aided her in her pleas, making saying ‘no’ to them even more impossible. I relented, sighing and shaking my head, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Satisfied, they clapped their hands as I approached the horse, one leg on both sides and I sat, being careful not to put too much weight on the wooden back, so as not to damage what might have been a priceless treasure.

“Giddy up!” Charlie cheered and I did my best imitation of a horse, making it rock a few more times, before I got off and then fixed up my skirts. I couldn’t help but smile. I had a feeling that I was going to have a great deal of fun playing games with the children, and it was impossible not to feel excited at the prospect. We could do anything, and I had a feeling that no matter what it was, it would be an absolute blast having them as my opponent.

“Wanna play another game?” asked Ruby, taking my hands in hers.

“How could I pass up on the offer?” I said. “What shall we play?”

“Tag!” she said, tapping my shoulder. “You’re it!”

Without any further warning, I suddenly grabbed her by the waist and swung her up into the air, making her squeal and giggle in surprise and when I put her down again, Charlie took her hand, made a run for it, and I chased them around the house, the three of us laughing and shrieking as we ran and tackled and dodged each other.

Seeing the kids so full of laughter and playfulness, I could feel the stress and anxiety of the day melt away and I felt a wave of relaxation and peace wash over me. What better way to spend the time than playing and laughing like this?

To Be Continued

taglist: @runnning-outof-time @zablife

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinder fanfic

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rinwellisathing · 1 year ago

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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 2

Part 2 of my Durgetash fic so far. Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

'Chosen of Bane, Your intel is intriguing and quite appreciated. An evening of my company is really worth that? Come on, I don't believe that for a moment. You seem a clever man, so you shouldn't assume I'm not one as well. Clever, I mean. What angle is it you're actually working? Could it be you see myself and my dear little family as an asset on your dizzying climb to power? More intriguing still, if I'm correct! Speak plainly then and lay it all before me. I'm terribly creative and I'm sure between the two of us, we could be a force to be reckoned with.

Yours, Sentry Ojeda, The Executioner, Chosen of Bhaal' “Hmm...doesn't seem long enough and the wording isn't really refined, but then again if I'm asking him to spell his intentions plainly, it must look better if I do as well.” The Executioner, Sentry when things were cordial, thought outloud. With a sigh, he turned from the writing desk and stood, striding towards a large half painted canvas in the corner. A scene played out unfinished across the stretched material, not true canvas, but something far more leathery, of a hellish scene. A triptych he had been working on for the better part of a year. The sufferings and trials of the god Ilmater. Prayer books and books he'd had as a child lay open on the floor and side tables around. The god was depicted in the form of a tiefling, rather than the more commonly depicted human form and the scenery around him was tinged heavily in reds, browns, and coppers of varying saturation levels of The Executioner's special paint mixture. He regarded it thoughtfully before producing the vial he'd gathered earlier and uncorking it, selecting a paintbrush from atop his pallet and setting about detailing raw and bleeding wounds upon The Broken God. His walls were littered with former works, scenes of Bhaalist history including a portrait of Sarevok at the height of his power. One piece seemed out of place among them, a portrait of a serene and beautiful old human woman with dark brown skin, long grey hair, and golden eyes. She was dressed in the armor of a paladin and wearing a symbol of Ilmater. This portrait hung directly over Sentry's bed, though easily hidden behind the bed curtains if need be. A small gold placard beneath read 'Evagria Ojeda, Commander Mum'. Outside of the private quarters of The Chosen, the family was disrupted by the arrival of another member. The sound of bare feet on stone echoed, accompanied by the wet squelching of blood. The beautiful elf was the first to look up, a playful smirk playing across her pleasing features. “Ah, sister Orin! Welcome home. I trust today's hopefuls were less dismal than the last...or did you bring me a failure or two to play with?” She batted her eyelashes coyly, sauntering towards the pale figure. “Pathetic, worthless flesh-things unworthy of our father's gifts.” The newcomer sneered. “Well, not YOUR father, per se, Orin, dear.” The elf giggled, her lithe form dancing just out of reach. “Which of course is why darling brother Sentry is chosen and not you.”

The woman's pale eyes flashed for a moment. “The filthy breed-spawn forgets its place. But it will not be chosen when it matters.” “Oooh, careful, sister, remember what happened to the last sibling who talked that way about the little runt.” The male drow snorted from the battered and dusty seat he currently lounged in. “Not that I disagree or nothing.” He added under his breath.

“Yes, of course. I forget myself, slaughterkin.” A twitching smile crossed her lips. “It is the strain of watching these pretenders, unfit even for sacrifice.” The tall female tiefling did not break the gaze she kept focused on the changeling, however. Her expression was distrustful and though she stood still, a tension flared in her main hand, ready to reach for her scythe at a moment's notice. She kept to the shadows, however, eyes never leaving her quarry. “Now now, it is for your dear father to select his chosen, and our putrid prince Sentry fills the role most ably!” Sceleritas cut through the tension, a tea tray in one hand, which he set on the table nearest the lovely elf. “I, for one, can't imagine a better fit.” An ugly expression crossed Orin's face and she inhaled sharply before turning and skulking off towards her own chambers in a hurry. The beautiful elf giggled musically and sat back down at her table, dipping her porcelain pale hands into a round shell filled with warm, red liquid. The drow rolled his eyes and returned to an open journal beside him, pressing a lock of red hair onto the page and beginning to write something. The female tiefling breathed deeply and lowered herself to a sitting position, laying her scythe across her lap and beginning to tend to it. Sentry set down his brush and smiled with satisfaction up at his work, tongue slipping from between his soft lips to lick an errand splatter from his face. “This could be my masterpiece, it very well could...Just a few more and I can complete it...But” His expression fell and he chewed on his lip uncertainly. “But then what would I paint? Ugh...not a creative rut, I can't stand it!” He clutched his head and arched his back dramatically. His mind felt foggy, almost blocked. Tired. That was it, it had to be. He had had quite the busy day after all and it was late. The sun would rise in just an hour or so. Time to sleep. He slipped out of his clothes, his bare, smooth chest decorated with two well healed scars beneath his pectorals, which stood out among the many far more raw and tattered scars across his back and belly. He did not remove his pants, instead making his way over to the bed and wriggling under the covers. Once safely beneath them, he wriggled and kicked, pushing his pants and underwear off the bed without lifting the blankets. Once he was comfortable, he reached up behind his crimson silk pillow and grabbed a well loved plush dragon, dirty and stained with years of wear and tear. Holding it close against his chest he curled his knees and elbows to his middle and buried his head in the stuffed toy, closing his eyes as his breathing began to slow. His dreams hurt. They always did. The dark, cold cage, the hands groping and pawing at his flesh, the pain and fear. A time when he wasn't the most frightening thing in the room, a time when his father's family had had different plans for him. Sometimes if he was lucky, his dreams ran red and he remembered his escape. If he wasn't, the pain and the cold enveloped him. Tonight, he was awakened only by the sharp bite of his teeth into his now bleeding lip as he subconsciously bit back a cry of terror unbecoming of father's chosen. He sat bolt upright in bed and blinked warily before his eyes fell on his writing desk. The letter. Yes. Recovering those artifacts, spilling the blood of their captors, that would make him feel better.

He didn't even need to call out, Sceleritas was at his side in a moment, awaiting his orders. “See that this reaches that Gortash fellow we met yesterday, will you?” “At once, young master. Might I recommend the hand axes for this endeavor? Your beloved halberd, while fearsome, will be so cumbersome to wield in those close quarters.” Sceleritas bowed. “Hmm...throwing hatchets, perhaps?” Sentry pondered aloud. “An excellent decision, oh wretched one!” The butler clapped his hands together and inclined his head before making his way to the desk and collecting the letter.

#baldurs gate 3 #oc #tiefling #baldur's gate 3 #durge #dark urge #durgetash #enver gortash #gortash x durge #fanfic #writing

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tombstuck-writes · 7 months ago

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Knucklehead: Part 1, Chapter 2

Genre: Midwest Contemporary Young Adult Romance.

Word count: 27,615. Chapter 2/27.

Summary: “There was only one queer kid in town. That’s what he thought anyway, because it was him. If only his online almost-boyfriend lived nearby, things might be a little more tolerable.”

Content warnings: Graphic child abuse (it's not until part 2, and part 1 can be read stand-alone.)

Author's note:

Again, a big thank you to anyone who reads this story. I'll be posting one chapter every Saturday until it's done. Chapters will be under the #tombstuck-knucklehead tag, and I will also link them on the "Read Knucklehead" page on the header of my tumblr site.

You can read chapter 1 here.

Brandon sat at a small table in the dingy break room at work. He was eating an Italian style pinwheel wrap, and thinking about his therapy session the day before.

His mom had been concerned about him since he had graduated– even before then, if he was honest– and set him up an appointment with a therapist. Brandon had never seen a therapist before, and he was nervous. The first appointment was boring. He just had to tell the therapist his history and some detail about the issues he was having. The therapist noted it all down.

The day before had been his second appointment with the therapist.

He walked into the office. It was sparsely decorated, with a nameplate on the desk, and a single painting on the wall, of a tree. The walls were painted beige. He sat down on the small couch across from the lady’s desk, and the leather of the couch creaked underneath him.

“So,” the therapist– Sarah, according to her nameplate. Brandon would have to remember that– began with a click of her pen. “Last time we spoke about your history, and made a goal for your treatment. How have things been going for you since we spoke last week?”

“The same,” Brandon said, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite his nails.

“Mm, okay. Is there anything you’d like to talk about today, or would you like me to lead the session?” she asked.

“You can lead, I guess.” Brandon had no idea how to handle the awkwardness in the room.

“How often do you spend time with friends?” she asked.

This gave him pause. “Used to be every day. Now… I don’t even have friends.”

“What happened to those relationships?” Sarah asked.

“I ruined them by disappearing.”

“Do you think your, former, friends would react well to being asked to hang out right now?”

“Probably not. I haven’t spoken to them in weeks. Except– well.” Brandon paused again. Did he want to keep this new bond with Norm to himself?

“Except…?” Sarah waited.

“I actually hung out with someone yesterday. It was… fine, I guess.”

“That’s a great start, Brandon. Who was it you hung out with?”

“... My girlfriend, Natalie,” Brandon lied. It was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

“Oh, my. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. How long have you been together?”

“Um, a year and a half, about. We met in school.”

“And what did you do together yesterday?” Sarah asked.

“We went on a picnic date at the park. Ate sandwiches together and did some cloudgazing.”

“That sounds lovely. Did she have a good time?”

“I hope so,” Brandon said. This was insane, lying to the therapist. He needed to get a grip.

She ended the session a while later by giving Brandon some homework. He was supposed to spend time with either a friend, or his girlfriend this week. Something to get him out of the house and around other people that’s not work.

Speaking of work, his break was almost over. He got a text all of a sudden.

It was from Norm. Hey Bran. When’s your next day off?

Brandon was surprised. It seemed like Norm wanted to hang out pretty regularly now. Tomorrow, he simply answered.

Wanna go to the old mining museum with me? Norm texted back a moment later. Brandon chuckled lightly and took another bite of his lunch before answering.

Your hangout ideas are unconventional, he answered.

Does that mean no? :(

Brandon sighed. He had been to the mining museum in middle school, and it had felt cramped and dark even then. He supposed it made sense, they were trying to make it feel like a mine shaft, but still. Shoved into a dark cramped space, probably just him and Norm? The mining museum wasn’t exactly a bouncing hangout for the kids these days, so it would be just the two of them. Alone. Touching.

Of course I’ll go. I meant it as a compliment, Brandon answered begrudgingly. He was in way over his head with this whole Norm thing.

The next day, the two of them were stood outside the old mining museum at ten o’clock in the morning. Brandon had been able to smell the alcohol on Norm in the car. He hoped Norm didn’t do anything dumb and get them kicked out. They walked in and a very old man in a cap that said “VETERAN” in all caps was sitting behind a desk.

“Welcome to the Cohocton Mining Museum.” The old man said.

“Thank you,” Brandon said, getting out his wallet. “Uh, what does it cost to go in?”

“Free to walk through, but we appreciate donations.” The old man said. “And we got souvenirs for sale if you’re interested.”

“Okay,” Brandon already had his wallet out so he pulled out a few ones to drop in the donation box, because he felt it would be rude not to.

“I thank you kindly,” the old man said. Brandon nodded at him in reply.

They went into the museum, and just as Brandon remembered, it was a bit cramped. Maybe not quite as bad as he had imagined when he was a kid— even though he’s bigger now— but still close quarters.

Norm had smelled like alcohol before, but he didn’t seem to be blackout drunk, just tipsy. He was a giggly drunk, and had Brandon laughing by reenacting fictional mining scenarios. He was also flitting from display to display, pulling Brandon along by the hand.

He led Brandon to a display of phosphorescent minerals. “Bran, look!” He said, but he didn’t let go of Brandon’s hand after dragging him over there. Brandon technically saw the brightly glowing minerals, and they were cool, but every ounce of Brandon’s attention was drawn to Norm holding Brandon’s hand. He blushed and hoped Norm couldn’t see it.

“They’re,” Brandon began, trying to pull himself back into the conversation about the minerals. He looked over at Norm the same time Norm looked at him. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

Norm’s eyes got a bit wider as he stared at Brandon.

“The minerals, I mean!” Brandon said, panicking. Norm let go of his hand and rubbed the back of his own neck.

“Yeah, they totally are,” Norm said. He gulped. Brandon could see red creeping up Norm’s neck in the dim light. He was blushing too.

After they got through the museum, they were on the drive back to Norm’s house. Trees whipped by the car in a blur.

“So, that was cool,” Norm said, looking over at Brandon. Brandon nodded. After a moment of silence, he asked, “You liked it?” His question seemed to have a deeper meaning.

“Yeah, I did,” Brandon said, answering the implied question and the literal one. “The glow in the dark minerals were especially neat.” What am I doing?, he thought.

Norm bit his lip and looked out the side window, and Brandon wondered if he had gone too far, been too forward. He had a girlfriend, for Christ sakes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Nah, man. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I had fun,” Norm said, smiling lightly over at Brandon.

What does that mean? Does that mean he felt whatever was between us in the museum? I mean, how could he not, Brandon’s thoughts rambled on as he drove.

When they got back to Norm’s house, he asked, “Do you wanna come in and see my room?”

Brandon wondered if this was a dangerous thing to do. “Sure, yeah,” he said anyway.

As they walked through the living room, Norm’s mom and some other guy were sitting on the couch smoking pot. The guy nodded at Brandon and he nodded back, following Norm back to his room.

He distinctly thought he heard, “The fag’s brought his boyfriend over,” and then the two of them snickered. But maybe he misheard.

Norm’s room was plain and nearly unfurnished. He had a twin sized mattress on the floor, a plastic dresser, and a beat up TV with a Nintendo 64 plugged into it. There was also a closet, but Brandon couldn’t see what was in there. The only things on the wall were some black and white photocopied pictures from game guide magazines.

“Cozy,” Brandon said, and Norm snorted.

“Yeah that’s one word for it,” Norm said. “Hey! Wanna play Mortal Kombat with me?”

“Oh, sure,” Brandon answered. He wasn’t sure where to sit.

Norm sat down on one end of the bed, and pulled the system closer so the controllers would reach the bed. Brandon sat next to him.

They played videogames together much longer than Brandon had originally intended to stay, and it was the most fun Brandon had had in a long time, even though he wasn’t the best at it.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will come out Saturday 7/13/24.

#tombstuck-knucklehead #writeblr #writeblr community #creative writing #writers on tumblr #queer writer #disabled writer

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chocosvt · 4 years ago

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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!!

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #svt smut #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

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canyouhearthelight · 2 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 210

Weekly installation of mostly fluffy slice of life neurodivergent queer fiction in SPACE space space space!

October was a super busy month, so I’m glad to be through it. HRT, Inktober, real life camping trip, one of my ersatz children making good trouble while the other one rebelled a little bit... Onwards to November, when I still have to decide if I am spatchcocking Cornish hens or just frying them.

I actually can’t do reader shout outs this week, because Inktober did get my notes all wonky. However! @janeshadow, @necromancer04, and @drbibliophile were all extremely supportive of my clumsy attempts at art, so I do want to give them special acknowledgement.

As always, shout out to @baelpenrose for sticking it out through this chapter... It veered hard left for a minute, but he hung in there until it actually made sense again.

By the time I got back to my office, Else had done an admirable job clearing the ceiling and working their way down the walls. Tyche and Parvati were nowhere to be seen, which was just as well. Given the near-fluorescent quality my workspace still had, it was in everyone’s best interest that Parvati was scheduled to shadow my sister today.

“Good call on Charly,” Hannah announced as I took a seat. “She was halfway through making a fresh batch of paint when I got ahold of her.”

I slumped in relief. “Xiomara is less than pleased with her homework, but not much else I can do. She has been warned, just in case, blah blah blah.” Roughly, I rubbed my face. “I need a vacation.”

“Don’t you usually go camping or something? I know there was a camping trip last year.”

“Mmm hmm.” Alistair had kindly handed me another coffee - mostly hot this time, no straw. Things were looking up. “But we make planetfall in less than four months. The next giant leap for mankind waits for no one.”

She blinked at me, skeptical. “The world won’t end if you vanish for three or four days.”

Shrugging, I shook my head. “I’d be camping alone. Schedules are all over the place right now, between essential projects in community shifts and essential tasks in work shifts. Hell,” I sighed, “I think the guys and I are only all home at the same time for maybe four hours a day?”

“That sucks,” she whispered emphatically.

“Can’t be helped. We’ve talked about it and come to terms with it.” Remembering the food I’d brought, I looked around. “Where are the - “

“Eaten, with salt and butter,” Alistair interrupted. “What hasn’t been demolished was absconded with to Tyche’s office with muttering about soups?”

“The Soup,” Hannah corrected. “Clearly, you haven’t had it, or you would know that. Hey!” She perked up again. “You could do a picnic instead of camping? Small daycation?”

That set me groaning, leaning my head down to rest in my hands. “They’re deconstructing BioLab2 for biomass,” I half-wailed mournfully. “I’m pretty sure the only reason Nixe hasn’t smashed my door down is because she’s too busy trying to get as much PT in with Teeth as possible before they drain the lake.”

Alistair drummed his fingers on the table, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “I am going to hazard the guess that either Mister Rodriguez has not been told that the same will happen to his tanks, or he has elected not to inform Her Majesty?”

I winked and waggled a finger at him. “Very close. Simon’s prodigious aquarium set ups are among the last to go. They are currently being used to study mineral aquatics, and will be cycled out to become life pods for Else.”

“That explains the breathtaking lack of weapon marks on the doors, thank you.”

“No problem.” Taking a steadying breath, I looked around again. The pumpkins were vanishing slowly but surely. A reassuring sign. “On more official matters, the votes from the Ark are showing an eighty-twenty trend toward the From cave system, with seventy percent reporting already.” I called up the relevant map. “Which means we need to start figuring out where exactly to put everyone. These are the most recent geological scans, so let’s start taking inventory of who has preference of where they don’t want to be…”

That bought me a scant few minutes of relative silence before Hannah tapped my hand to get my attention. “What about a Halloween party? Or a harvest party?”

“Once we get down there? Sounds like a plan. Sort of a new Thanksgiving.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean for you, dummy.”

I tilted my head questioningly. “You want me?” I pointed at my chest. “To relax? By planning and throwing a party?”

“You love feeding people,” she pointed out.

My hands went up. “Four or five at a time, yeah! After that, it gets exhausting.”

“There is this fascinating invention,” Alistair started, adding his two cents. “It’s called a potluck, I do believe. Apparently, it occurs when you allow other people to bring dishes to a gathering.” He zoomed on a particular cavern, not even looking at us. “Revolutionary, I know. What will they think of next.”

“Asshole,” I muttered, wiggling down into my chair to sulk.

“Other people can cook, Sophia.”

“Et tu, Hannah?”

Five years ago, she would have flinched from my glare. Now, she just stared back. It was clear that overexposure had acclimatized her to my wrath. “You let Tyche bake for you all the time.”

“That’s different. I can’t bake. Like, at all.”

“Arthur made goulash that one time. And you let Charly make popcorn.”

Yet again, my assistant felt the need to add insult to injury. “I understand that Mister Rodriguez is quite adept at sugar confections. And you, yourself, extoll Councilor Kalloe’s aptitude with curries.”

“We could throw Xiomara and Mona together,” Hannah suggested. “Mona will stuff buns with anything given the chance.” It only took a beat of silence for her to realize what she had said and start glowing red. “Bread buns! Like fluffier bao oh my gods kill me now…”

“Mini curry bread bowls do sound delightful,” Alistair mulled.

“Y’all - “

He kept speaking, ignoring me completely. “I think Farro and I can duel British versus American pigs in blankets.”

Hannah clapped, despite my attempts to argue. “Oh, that would be fun! I bet Charly and Coffee can pull together some really interesting dips and sauces.” Her tone dropped just as she clamped a hand over my mouth. “I hear Coffee makes a mean roux.”

“Do you think he can make us a gumbo?”

“How would we make it portable? Hmmm….”

I stood up and stomped my bare foot ineffectually before shouting. “Y’ALL!” They turned to look at me, faces frozen mid-word. Pointing a finger like it was a loaded gun, I started with Alistair. “I know what the hell a potluck is, but a good host should be able to feed the people they invite. Arthur got away with the goulash because he didn’t exactly ask.”

“The boozy donuts didn’t hurt,” Hannah added.

“AND YOU!” I whirled on her. “How am I supposed to ask people who probably can’t even attend to make food or help? I adore Mona, but she is busy. We all have access to her work allotments and hours, none of us know when she sleeps. I don’t care how good those mini bread bowls sound, if I find out she is making even ONE, I will assign you to BioLab Four so fast you won’t have time for a rebreather.”

She started muttering and I vaguely heard names being listed, but chose to ignore it for the sake of my blood pressure. “And finally: WHY DOES THAT PUFF HAVE A HAT??” I darted across the room to where Else was roughly halfway down the walls now, fingertip less than an inch from a bright yellow ball of fuzz with a bright purple cowboy hat.

“Hat?”

“Puff?”

Both of them stood and inched toward where I was standing, eyes following my arm until they saw what I was focused on. “That’s a hat,” Hannah murmured in a dazed tone.

“I see it as well,” Alistair confirmed. I couldn’t tell if his confusion was the rapid change in topic or the bizarre sight in front of us. “It is very purple.”

I didn’t want to take the object away, in case it upset Else…. Lately, they’d been known to emit a jarringly high pitched noise when upset. Instead, I stared at it with them, fixated.

“Does Simon have sea urchins?” Hannah finally asked, apropos to literally nothing I could figure out.

“Four?” I answered, curious.

She nodded without taking her eyes off the wall. “Urchins sunburn, and from what I’ve read, wild ones would carry stones or other objects to protect themselves. People who kept pet urchins would make hats for them. Like that.”

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. “I don’t think I want to know how Else stole a hat from one of Simon’s urchins.”

“Perhaps someone made it for Else, based on similarities?” Alistair suggested.

“No clue,” I admitted. Finally, I turned from the wall, took a deep breath, and opened my eyes. “Fine. You’re right. We can do the potluck. It’ll be nice to hang out with everyone and not have to cook everything.”

Immediately, I winced and Else scattered as Hannah started squealing. “This is going to be great! Just you wait and see.”

“No costumes?” I begged.

She gave a small huff. “Fine. No costumes. I can work with that. Unless Else shows up with hats.”

“The hat is pretty cute,” I conceded.

“Do not inform Miss Harper of that.” Alistair turned and stared at us both. “If I am forced to see even one glittery accoutrement for our fine, fluffy friends, neither of you will ever have a proper cup of coffee again.”

Oh. He meant it.

“Won’t tell Charly,” I hastily promised.

“How the hell are we supposed to keep her from making them without telling her about it?” Hannah hissed at me as soon as his back was turned.

“Fuck if I know,” I responded. “But we’re going to figure this out. My caffeine depends on it.”

<<Prev Masterlist Next>>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #haw #hfy #original fiction #original science fiction #sci fi #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #my writing

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auraee · 3 years ago

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- 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕪. -

❁ 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 - I should have been writing something else, I really should have. Just earlier today I was making lunch and my brain was like "Oh my god, what if-" and here we are. This little short story is pretty fluffy and suggestive, so if you're alright with that -

❁𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!❁

Reblogs and likes (especially reblogs) are appreciated as they help me pieces reach my target audience. Minors don't interact with this piece or any other pieces on my blog.

The moon’s frosty glow shone proudly into our bedroom through the glass balcony doors and windows, rivalling the mellow bedside decorative candlelight that melted beside me, filling the room with its sweet coconut scent. Sighing, I lifted my gaze to outline the contents of the room. My eyes traced the few art portraits and cute photos that hung delicately from the pearly walls. At the bottom of the sepia accented wall was a cute little hazelnut sofa with a cable stitched blanket draped over it from the centre - perfect for cuddling. The heating of the room felt wonderful, that alongside the bath that I took not long ago relaxed my muscles, swelling my pleasure as I nestled snug into my oversized worn tee. My attention was then taken back to the balcony doors, peering through it led to a breathless view of the flickering garden lights, twinkling softly amongst themselves like stars and lighting up the colourful patch of flowers that swayed in the middle.

Work had been long, excruciatingly long, but fulfilling. Now that I have gotten past my writer's block (the means that got me rid of it was…well) I practically flew through writing the chapter. My editor almost did a cartwheel when I showed her what I had written, gushing over the detailed emotions and rawness of the intimate scene that I painted. When she asked me how I got it done so suddenly after holding back;

…I couldn’t tell her the truth.

Nevertheless, I got back into my groove - this time, happily typing away on my laptop. Meanwhile, my boyfriend was singing - pretty well actually, in the shower just a little down the hall. The beats of his playlist slipped under the door and out into the open. It sounded like he was having the time of his life in there - I didn’t even know his voice could get that high.

Abruptly, the door opened further from its ajar state, steamy fog spewing out as it did. Next came the music, much louder than it was previously and then the man himself, in nothing but a towel. Kyojuro stood in the middle of the hallway, his messy ardent hair bobbing in time with the music causing dripping beads of water that fell down to his pecs, joining the several others racing down the rest of his toned torso to see which droplet could reach his pelvis first. I took note of his facial features - the visible, kissable dimples that creviced his cheeks from smiling so much. The elated twinkle in his eye that he got when he was jamming to his tunes - it was quite the cute spectacle. Kyojuro swayed his hips with the rhythm, a firm grasp on the centre of his towel, his bicep tensed, and with my gaze travelling down I was met with two jutting veins from under his honeyed skin.

Well… now he’s both cute and sexy.

He paid no mind to the world around him, not even noticing my ogling while he continued to sing along with the song playing. Missing a few words here and there, but he definitely had the spirit. The sight flushed my face with furious heat. Even though I had seen him like this several times before it never ceased to have this heart-thumping effect on me. He makes me so shy it frustrates me. I’m already timid as it is, but he makes it so many times worse!

With a lot of work, I tore my eyes away from Kyojuro’s godly physique and re-adjust my focus to the document in front of me. “Just one more paragraph…” I mumbled internally.

I had only gotten another sentence written when my train of thought was interrupted, “Love,” called out Kyojuro, slipping on his slippers and shuffling into the bedroom, “I thought we talked about bringing work to bed.”

There was a soft scolding tinge in his tone as he spoke to me, “How are you going to get sufficient rest if you don’t allow yourself to? It’s not healthy to work all the time, even if the thing that you’re working on is your passion. You need to rest.”

I knew he was right, and we did talk about this, but still! Clasping my hands together, I puckered my lips up into a plump pout to make my plea, “I Know, but there’s this-”

Disregarding my protesting, Kyojuro took a seat between my thigh and the rest of the bed, the walnut wooden frame groaning under his weight. In that same movement he placed his other hand on the bedding just off my other thigh, closing the distance between us, “What did we decide on?”

“...Not to bring work to bed.” I grumbled, shifting slightly on the bed sheets, growing nervous at his sudden proximity.

“That’s right.”

“But if I just complete this paragraph!”

“You can complete it tomorrow, baby.” Kyojuro insisted, his voice shifting to more concern. He adjusted his towel again before resting it on the back of my laptop. “Save your work. You will have time to do it tomorrow. When you are working.”

I pulled my gaze away from Kyojuro, to think, nibbling at my lower lip as I did so, “I suppose so…”

Kyojuro then reached for my chin, his thumb tenderly grazed my lower lip, somewhat tugging it free from my teeth, “No, you are going to do it.” he urged, “You are going to rest tonight because you deserve it!”

I sighed, finally caving in. That response promptly dealt me another jovial grin from my goofball partner, “Alright…”

“Great! Now, stand up!”

A squeal involuntarily left me as Kyojuro took my hands, pulled me from the bed and into his chest,“What? Why?”

“You are going to dance with me! My bathroom playlist is still going, Mariah Carey is on now!”

“...You have a bathroom playlist?”

Kyojuro’s spirited laugh rang to all four corners of the room, twirling my figure under his arm and coaxing me to move in time with his body.

“Yes! I have a set playlist for a myriad of things! Cooking, working out, and so on!”

I, in turn, side-stepped awkwardly, “Ah, Kyo… I don’t know. My body isn’t as, you know, moveable…” I chuckled, “I’d rather watch you!”

Kyojuro shook his head giggling, once again ignoring my protests, “Your body doesn’t have to be anything! I just want feel you move with me, flower!”

Warmth swept my figure again at Kyo’s words, but I shyly agreed to Kyojuro’s delight.

Fantasy by Mariah was playing, her voice bounced off the walls, giving the ambiance of the dimly lit room a sweet, care-free air. Over time, I gradually let go of my embarrassment, dancing along and laughing at Kyojuro being a cheesy dork.

“Oh, when you walk by every night! Talkin' sweet and lookin' fine!” Kyojuro sang enthusiastically, simultaneously turning rhythmically to smack himself on the butt, “I get kinda hectic inside! Mmm, baby, I'm so into you! Darlin', if you only knew! All the things that flow through my mind~”

I nearly teared up from laughing at this new spectacle, not to mock him, but in appreciation to get me to go along with him.

So naturally, I did.

“But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby.” I sang giggling, continuing the duet, “When I close my eyes, you come and take me ~ on and on and on, it's so deep in my daydreams. But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby~”

“There you go,” chimed Kyojuro, continuing to dance, “You look stunning, _______!”

My lips puckered up into an appreciative smile as I shut my eyes and finally got to the groove of the music. I rocked my hips from side to side, bobbing my head in time while running my fingers down my curves, feeling the soft fabric of my tee rise up my brown skin in the process. Unbeknownst to me, I felt a hand reach lightly tug at my wrist and pull me towards a chiselled abdomen. Under the allure of the coconut scented room, a rough, calloused hand sandwiched the plush of my thigh between its fingers, enticing me to follow the rocking hips of the man humming behind me. Then, following the first arm, the second returned to my waist to hug it tightly. A shuddering warm breath brushed over the exposed portion of my shoulder, lingering there for a moment and in the next a seedling kiss was then planted, followed by various tantalising others.

I hummed at the affection, bashfully basking in my love’s appreciation of me. I reached up to massage Kyojuro’s humid scalp, with him returning a muffled groan as he continued his tender assault. The song was teased to end, the remaining seconds of the melody lingered in the air, when suddenly my eyes snapped open.

“K-Kyo?” I stammered, almost voiceless between hot breaths.

I got a carnal, playful hum in response.

“I– think your fantasy fell and your reality is poking me…”

“Hm?-- OH!”

- 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 -

❀ 𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 ⚘ ꕤ 𝕀𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚘ ❁ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟

#kyoujurou #kyojuro x you #black female reader #demon slayer kyojuro #kyojuro x black reader #fanfic #demon slayer #black!fem!reader #black!reader #rengoku kyoujuro x reader #kny kyoujurou #kyoujurou x reader #Kyo fluff #kyojuro rengoku x black!reader #black reader #black fem reader #demon slayer fanfic

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years ago

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Hi! I'm a new follower and I just binged all of your stories today! And sooooo in love!

I just want to request a story, where chishiya is madly possesive of his S/O, where he gets jealous of anyone who would touch her.

S/O is a female.

Thank youuu so much!

Of course! Thanks so much for following and reading my fics! ❤❤

Possessive | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Summary: You begin to notice Chishiya’s possessive behaviour around you when you start becoming more serious about your relationship

Type: short scenario

Word Count: 1.7k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: this is more like just a few scenarios of Chishiya being possessive. It isn’t that well written since I had to rush it a bit. I felt like I had to post something today cause I haven’t in a while, so I was a bit busy 😣

You never viewed Chishiya as the possessive type, especially when it came to relationships. The sly, manipulative character seemed to convey the vibe that he wouldn’t care less about who his significant other talked to or hung out with. But of course, during the first few weeks of dating him, you began to notice that your assumption was completely inaccurate.

It started with small gestures, like pulling you closer to him subtly when you were hanging around the pool area, or keeping a strong grip on your hand when walking down the hallways of the hotel together. You always thought it was him just being a good boyfriend, but over time you began to think otherwise.

Chishiya became more clingy towards you, both in public and private. Sometimes he would not allow you to leave his side at all, which always ended in a complaint from you. Even when you rolled your eyes and tried to walk away from him anyway, he would just grab you by your waist and pull you back to him, giving you a quick glare to warn you.

In private, like when you were in your shared room together, he always hid your shirts from you so you would be forced to wear one of his white t-shirts. He would become all happy and giddy when you saw you in his clothes, wrapping his arms around you like a little koala and not letting go for hours. There would be some nights when you would have to pry his arms off from your torso, as he simply refused to let you go.

************

One night, you both were sitting in a booth together outside around the pool area. Most of The Beach’s residents had made their way to bed, so it was just you and Chishiya having a few drinks together with the occasional small group of people walking nearby.

Chishiya had his lips against yours, moving slowly and intimately as he held the side of your face with one hand and rubbed the bare skin of your waist with the other. You were having a heated make out session, just enjoying being in each other’s presence without being disturbed by anyone.

“Chishiya,” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, making Chishiya pout unhappily. “Let’s head inside, it’s getting cold out here.”

Chishiya smiled and shook his head at your suggestion. “Can we just spend a few more minutes here? There’s too many people inside and just want some alone time with you,” he asked, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and lightly nipping at the sensitive skin. You winced as he kissed and bit along your neck and collarbones.

“I want to see Arisu. He said he wasn’t feeling too well today and I want to check up on him,” you said, pulling Chishiya away from your neck by his shoulders. Chishiya held a frown on his face.

“Why do you want to see Arisu? I’m right here, you don’t need him,” he groaned in an annoyed tone while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You pulled a sarcastic face and rolled your eyes.

“Yes I know, but I’m just worried about him, that’s all,” you insisted, pushing your hand underneath Chishiya’s chin and pressing your thumb against his lips lightly.

Chishiya gazed lovingly into your eyes as you traced your thumb across his cheek, closing his eyes in content as the feeling of your hand on his skin. “You’re so pretty,” you praised, giving him a short peck on his nose, making him chuckle slightly.

*************

A more prominent incident that conveyed his possessive personality was when you were in an executive meeting together.

You were a higher ranking member of the militants, so you were able to be present at meetings with Hatter.

Both you and Chishiya stood at the end of the large room together, leaning against the wooden wall and listening to the debate that everyone was holding. Hatter was trying to decide which executives to send to the next game, as he was expecting the game to represent a card that they had not yet able to achieve, and he wished to make sure that they were guaranteed to bring it back.

“Niragi and Aguni could go,” Mira suggested, gesturing towards the two taller men that sat at the table next to one another. “They have a 100% winning streak, so I think they’d be the best choice for a diamonds game such as this one.”

Your eyes broke from the rest of the room when you felt Chishiya’s hand run along yours, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. You looked at his face, not even earning a side glance from him. It was unusual for him to act romantic towards you in front of the executives, especially during a meeting.

“Why doesn’t Y/N join then?” you suddenly heard your name. You looked back over to the table and saw Niragi eyeing you, making you tense immediately. “She can come with us, since she too has cleared a lot of diamond games.”

As everyone turned towards you and Chishiya, you felt Chishiya’s grip on your hand tighten.

Before you could even speak, Chishiya spoke for you.

“No,” he bluntly stated.

“No?” Niragi questioned, standing up from his seat and making his way over towards you and Chishiya’s position. “Why do you say no Chishiya?” Niragi asked, pressing the barrel of his rifle towards him.

“I’m not letting her go with you, not if I’m not there.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just continued to glance between the two bickering men.

“She’s her own person, she can speak for herself,” Niragi growled into Chishiya’s face, turning towards you. Your heart stopped as he stepped towards your smaller frame. “So, what do you think sweetheart? We could really use your help.”

The way he ran his tongue along his bottom lip creepily at the end of his sentence made you uneasy. Before you could even answer, Chishiya had pulled you by your arm roughly behind him, putting himself between you and Niragi and shoving on his chest to get him away.

“Fuck off you perv,” he cursed at him, “she’s staying here. I don’t care how much you need her. I wouldn’t even let her in the same room as you or Aguni without me there.”

Niragi scoffed and gave you both an angered look before turning away. “Fine. Keep that personality up around her Chishiya, she just might get sick of you treating her like a possession you have control over.”

***********

Another incident occurred when you were both at the neon coloured bar outside in the party area.

Chishiya had to leave for a few minutes to look for Kuina, so you decided to wait at the bar for him to return, despite his protesting.

You were nodding your head to the music and sipping your drink, enjoying your time by yourself and having a nice conversation with the young lady who was the bartender. You suddenly were pulled from your thoughts when a cold hand was placed on your lower back, making you jump and spin your head around with an annoyed expression.

“Hey gorgeous,” he slurred his words, obviously drunk. “You’re looking awfully lonely. You want to come dance with me,” he pressed, running a hand through your hair softly. You swatted his hand away from your face and shuffled over in your seat to distance yourself from him.

“No thanks,” you declined politely. “I’m actually with someone, so I’m waiting for them right now,” you tried to reassure him.

He frowned and looked around the bar for someone who you might have been with. “I don’t see anyone. I’m sure your partner won’t mind if you have a little dance with me~”

His flirtatious tone made you cringe. He seemed awfully insistent. You declined once again and stood up from your seat to walk away, but you didn’t get the chance to when he grabbed you by your waist and pulled your back against his chest. “Stop being so hard to get. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

You tried to pull yourself from his touch as he ran his hands along the skin of your stomach a bit too intimately for it to be comfortable.

To your surprise, you heard a loud impact noise and the man’s grip left your body. You turned around to see what had happened to notice none other than Chishiya standing above the man on the ground, taser in hand.

“Piss off you horny dog,” he spat towards him, tucking his weapon back into his hoodie pocket. You noticed the people surrounding you watching the scene, making you feel uneasy, but Chishiya grabbed you by your hand and dragged you away from the crowd, heading towards the hotel.

After walking for a while, Chishiya turned around and looked at you, concern painted across his face.

“Oh my god, are you okay baby?” he asked, frantically checking your body for any signs of injury. “Did he touch you anywhere? I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that, especially around all those intoxicated people.”

He was rambling as he rubbed your skin, trying to comfort you. “Chishiya,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m fine, it’s not your fault.”

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, running your hands through his hair, trying to calm him. Chishiya wrapped his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer, making you feel his warmth against you.

You snaked your hands underneath his hoodie and wrapped them around his back, scratching lightly through the material of his shirt. Chishiya sighed and pulled away from your lips, looking into your eyes.

“You’re all mine,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against yours playfully. You smiled at his statement. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.”

You nodded as he leant downwards to bite underneath your jaw. “Maybe I’m not making that clear enough,” he slyly said, making you chuckle nervously at his words. You gasped as he latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking on a single spot harshly. H.

“Chishiya, don’t!” you whispered-yelled. “You’ll leave a mark!”

Chishiya pulled away from your skin and admired the purple bruise that had formed on your neck, making him smirk. “That’s the point baby,” he said in a teasing tone. He leant back down and licked over the spot lightly to sooth the bruise.

You smiled and playfully hit his shoulder. “Idiot,” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

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ericspinkhair · 4 years ago

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff

chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven

author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!

Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.

So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.

We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.

"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."

"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.

I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."

She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."

I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.

"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes.

"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.

She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.

We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.

As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.

I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."

She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."

I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."

She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."

My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.

After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.

We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.

"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.

"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.

Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.

"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."

I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.

"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."

"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.

"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."

There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.

"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."

Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.

"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."

He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."

"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."

Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."

"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.

Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.

"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.

"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"

"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."

I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."

Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.

"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."

I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.

"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.

I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.

She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."

I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."

She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.

"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."

She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."

Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.

"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.

Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

—

Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.

To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.

I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.

We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?

I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.

So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.

"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"

She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.

Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.

Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.

"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."

"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."

He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.

"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"

Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.

"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."

She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"

I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.

"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."

Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.

When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.

"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."

She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."

Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.

"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.

"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."

She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.

"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."

She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."

"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"

Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.

"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."

My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.

"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."

She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."

I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.

"You did good, love."

She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."

"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."

She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."

Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.

The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.

Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.

"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.

"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"

That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.

Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.

And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.

—

"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.

She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.

"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.

"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.

She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.

"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."

I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."

She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"

I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.

"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"

She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."

"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."

I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."

I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.

"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.

My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."

She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.

"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.

As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."

She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."

"Huh. Sure you don't."

Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."

I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."

She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."

I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.

"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."

She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"

I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.

Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.

As always, she took my breath away.

"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.

I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.

"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."

She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.

I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."

Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.

"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.

I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"

She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.

Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."

She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.

She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.

"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.

"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."

She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.

I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

Note

You write fenrys so well 🥺

Can I request something for him falling in love with a lady who works in a library and is friends with aelin and he keeps finding excuses to visit the library and one day they realize they’re mates ? Can you plz include alot of longing looks & touched and his friends noticing ?

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: drinking, small argument, mainly fluff

a/n: kay so it's been a hot MINUTE since I've posted and I am sorry my loves, also I comepletely modified this but I hope you still like it, comment and shiz pls it really helps with writers block lol <33

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You had met Aelin sometime after the war. She had been wandering around town a couple days after the coronation, smiling at children and waving at the elderly, observing the way the town was slowly filling again, people returning home now it was safe. There weren’t many people about however, it just being seven in the morning.

She had walked past a shop then. It was small and rickety, the door barely on its hinges as a girl fought with it, swearing like a sailor.

“Do you need some help?” she asked, moving to stand beside the girl. You screamed instantly, jumping out of your skin at her sudden appearance, having not heard anyone coming due to how absorbed you were in your job. Aelin screamed when you screamed, and it left the two of you staring at each other with wide eyes before you fell apart in fits of laughter.

You stood from where you had bent to clutch your stomach, wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down.

“Jeez you fucking gave me a heart attack,” you laughed as she apologised, still giggling behind her hand. You then turned, hands on your hips as you glared at the door of your shop.

“Rude men should be put down,” you muttered and Aelin was laughing again.

“That I can get behind,” she said as you opened it, giving up on fixing it completely, Aelin gasping when she saw the inside.

“You have a bookshop!” she exclaimed, and you laughed.

“Had, now I just have dusty books and a broken door. It was my mother’s before…” you trailed off and Aelin put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and you shrugged.

“It’s fine, it was ages ago anyway,” you stepped further into the shop, going to the large window up front and tugging of the white sheet that obscured it from light. “However, this shop isn’t dead yet so might as well get it done.”

Aelin looked around the shop, the paper on the walls was peeling, the paint on the shelves cracked and the books covered in a fine layer of dust. “Damn, where do we start?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves and grinning at you when you whirled around, frowning at her.

“Doesn’t the queen have better things to do?” you asked, and she shrugged, laughing at your bewildered expression.

“I’m sure my husband will cope.” You gave her an unsure look at that, and she laughed, “He’s competent.”

“If you say so.”

“If you knew I was queen you really have no fear of authority do you?” she asked as you started pulling books down and pilling them onto the sheet you just pulled off the window.

“Respect is earned, plus you’re the one who made me shit myself.” She laughed again, smiling widely, and helping you take down more books as she realised this was the most she had laughed since the war ended.

The worked all day. First removing the books and putting them upstairs in the rundown apartment you lived in, filled with plants, blankets, and somehow even more books. Next the repainted the shelves, setting them outside to dry while they re-wallpapered the walls and cleaned the floor until it was shining.

When the sky got darker you swore as you realised neither of you had eaten all day, going up to your new friend and asking her what she wanted for dinner.

“I make really good pasta,” you had suggested, and she had nodded enthusiastically as you went upstairs to your apartment, drinking wine as you cooked together. As you ate on the floor, drinking yet another bottle of wine, this time straight from the bottle Aelin asked about your past.

You assured her it was relatively normal, asides from the whole ‘evil tyrant thing’ as you put it. You talked together for hours, going back downstairs, and bringing the now dry, sage green shelves back in and putting all the books away, setting them in categories.

Hours later Aelin decided to go home, not wanting to worry so much and she opened the still broken door, the both of you laughing as you realised you had forgotten a pretty integral part.

“Hey, you could just name the shop, ‘the broken door’,” she suggested, and you smiled.

“That would work.”

When Aelin got home she was met with a concerned Rowan, asking where she had been all day.

She smiled at him, pausing before answering, “I think I have a new best friend.”

Rowan frowned at that, “And what brings you to that conclusion?”

“Today was the first time I’ve laughed since…” she trailed off as silence fell at the thought of their past few months, Rowan then bringing her in for a hug.

“You know this means I have to meet her too then,”

“Nope my best friend get your own.” She shoved him playfully, falling asleep next to him that night with a smile on her face.

They went to see you the next morning and Aelin laughed when she saw your dishevelled state.

“Did you sleep?” she asked when she walked into the shop and found signs put up and plants dotted around the room as you sat on the floor, drinking a coffee that smelt so strong she almost gagged, much preferring sweeter tastes.

“Sleep is for the weak!” you said, half-heartedly raising your hand.

“And what’s with all the plants?” Rowan asked, frowning as he almost walked into another and you sat up straighter, glaring at him.

“What you too good for plants?” you asked your hands moving over-exaggeratedly as you got to your feet. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a stinky man,” you whispered to the plants and Aelin laughed at her husbands offended face.

You stood and started walking upstairs, your feet dragging as you went to get breakfast. You heard them follow you and you pushed open the door to your flat.

You had even more plants up here and Rowan rolled his eyes as you moved to open the large windows, letting in fresh air, you then moved about making pancakes, mixing enough for the three of you and adding blueberries when you were finished.

You cooked them up while chatting idly with Aelin and Rowan, only receiving a small amount of judgement when Aelin discovered you didn’t actually have a bed and instead just a mattress on the floor with a sheet for warmth and some soft pillows. Your house was newly decorated, art hung on the walls, plants and candles decorating every surface.

“Tea, coffee, water, vodka?” you offered them drinks and Aelin whined.

“No vodka, we had too much wine last night,” you laughed at that as you served up coffee and pancakes.

“Yeah we’ll have to go properly drinking some night,” you muttered, Rowan chuckling under his breath and nodding in agreement.

The three of you ate the rest of your food, laughing and joking together and Rowan really noticed the difference in Aelin’s manner. She hadn’t been truly comfortable or at ease in months, always looking over her shoulder, but now she sat laughing with her friend and Rowan wanted to thank you a million times over for bringing her back out of her shell.

Since you first met Aelin you were meeting up almost every day, discussing books over tea and hanging out at your shop, or drinking from expensive glasses in her castle while trying on elaborate dresses. Soon you were practically apart of the family, but that didn’t stop the confusion Fenrys felt when he walked into the castle and found a young girl sleeping on Aelins’ bed, a book opened but abandoned on her chest.

He tentatively walked forward so he could see her more clearly and felt his heart clench when his eyes fall upon her peaceful face, her eyes closed, and hair spread around her head like a halo. He was about to reach a hand out to brush a strand of hair from her soft hair when he heard the door open, turning to see Aelin run in, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Fenrys I didn’t know you were back,” she said when she pulled back, bouncing on the soles of her feet excitedly and he laughed.

“Are you going to explain why there’s a girl in your bed, or do I need to break some news to Rowan,” he joked and she shoved his shoulder before moving to the bed and shaking the girl awake.

“It’s just (y/n),” she explained as the girl huffed and rolled away from Aelin.

“Ah of course this person who I definitely knew existed,” Aelin stuck her finger up at him as he laughed, unable to stop his eyes from trailing back to her.

He watched as she breathed in deeply, her eyes opening slowly as she took him in, before she pulled her covers up to over her chin and frowned at him and Aelin with a small pout.

“I was having the best dream every asshole,” she complained and Fenrys smiled as she sat up on her elbows and reached a hand out to him to shake, introducing herself. He brushed the shake of and instead brought her hand to his mouth pressing a kiss to the back of it as sparks show through her skin at the sensation.

“I’m Fenrys, ambassador of Terrasen,” he smiled cheekily as she shrunk away slightly, nerves taking over her, “hope to see you around more.”

He left, pressing a quick kiss to Aelin’s temple, and winking at you as Aelin moved over to you with wide eyes.

“Aelin…” you started as she squealed.

“He was totally flirting with you! You would be such a cute couple, please, please ask him out I need you two to get married and have to worlds prettiest babies!” she was bouncing in hr seat as you moved to shut her up.

“Okay ONE, I just met him. And TWO, he was far too pretty for me,” you said and Aelin frowned.

“Nope, nope you are incorrect, and he is going to fall in love with you,” she demanded, and you laughed, kicking her with your foot.

“Mhm sure.”

The next few days, Fenrys was coming to your shop every day. He would bring chocolates and flowers some days, or coffee and pastries other days. Always dropping them off with a smile, before lounging in the plush, green chair in the corner of the shop and talking to you for hours. He has also started coming to your and Aelin’s weekly cocktail night, wrapping his arm around your shoulder’s and laughing drunkenly into your neck as you told stories.

However, through all this you remained ‘friends’. He would press kisses to your cheek and hands, keep an arm slung around your waist when men came to speak at you at bars and primarily referred to you using pet names and rarely ever your actual name. And it was getting frustrating.

You were having to start putting genuine effort to not kiss him every time you had a drink and he sat extra close to you. Or when you were invited to parties, and he moved smoothly through the countless questions asking if you were dating.

And while you revelled in the attention it was tearing at your heart slightly as insecurities told you that he would never actually be interested in you. You wanted to scream at him every time he kissed you but wanted to melt into him every time he hugged you, your brain constantly at battle with itself when he was near.

You knew you were due to explode any time soon. So when you were out one night and he was holding you extra close, you pulled away, muttering an excuse about getting another drink.

Standing at the bar as you waited you rested you head in your hands for a second before you saw a man begin to approach you. He was attractive, not like Fenrys, but honestly you would take anything to get your mind of him at the moment, so you smiled at him, tilting your head.

“What’s a doll like you doing all alone?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly, unlike the smooth, deep timbre you were used to, but you just laughed.

“Waiting for a man to not dehumanise me,” you bit back, and he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, what would you prefer?” he flirted, sidling up closer to you as you turned to face him.

“Can’t go wrong with ma’am,” you joked, and he laughed, looking down and shaking his head, only to look back up, his eyes going wide. You felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist and looked up to see Fenrys, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as he glared at the man in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice deep and full of authority, the man in front of you shrinking under his gaze.

“Shit sorry man, didn’t realise she had a boyfriend,” he apologised and this time you did roll your eyes.

“He’s not my-“ you began but Fenrys cut you off.

“Yeah she does, so back the fuck off.” You looked down as he spoke, shaking your head as tears of frustration built in your eyes. You harshly pulled out of his grip, leaving the bar as quickly as you could, wiping away the escaped tears as you heard Fenrys follow after you, shouting your name.

You whirled around when you got outside, your glare murderous.

“You do not get to do that!” you shouted as he moved closer to you.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry,” he began but you cut him off.

“NO! I am not your girlfriend! You have never once asked me to be so you don’t get to try scare away any guy that might have genuine interest in me!” his shoulders slumped as you spoke. Truthfully, he has been working up the courage to ask you out for months, and while he knew it was unfair how he treated you, he couldn’t help himself. He was addicted. He thought of you constantly, the texture of your skin, the smell of your hair, the way your eyes lit up and the way you moved your hands as you spoke. So when he saw you engage with the man that had the audacity to talk to you, his grip tightened on his glass so much it shattered, ignoring the worried looks from Aelin and Rowan as he stomped over to you.

“(y/n) listen, I’ve been an asshole I know,” he raised his hands, tentatively stepping towards you, “But I really care about you, and I want to be yours.”

You laughed bitterly, “You’re just saying that.”

He shook his head vehemently, stepping closer to you again and wrapping his arms around your shoulders so gently, one would think you were made of glass.

“I love you darling, please be mine,” he said into your hair, and you pulled back, looking up at him through glassy eyes before nodding slightly.

“I love you Fenrys,” he smiled down at you before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against your mouth, pouring his heart into the action. You gasped slightly as your lips met and he smiled widely against your mouth as the bond clicked into place.

“You know this means I now have an excuse to break the nose of any man that talks to you,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, shoving at his shoulder gently.

“I’m still annoyed at you,” you muttered, and his eyes darkened.

“Well I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #throne of glass

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wypapichulo · 4 years ago

Text

𝟕 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

pairing ; lee donghyuck x reader genre ; fluff, very very slight angst / high school au word count ; 5010 words warnings ; some explicit language? the use of the word 'shit' a few times? playlist ; dive into you – nct dream | walk you home – nct dream | best friend – rex orange county | anti-romantic – txt | can't take my eyes off you – frankie valli | backyard boy – claire rosinkranz author's note ; i hope the ending doesn't sound too rushed,, aah i just lost the vibe and wanted to get it done ;,, i hope it's alright🚶 dt ; @matchaeee <3

Making someone you don't know fall for you would have been easier. Making your best friend fall in love with you? A little bit more of a hassle But not unless they've been in love with you from the start.

“I can make her fall in love with me in 7 days”

Haechan had said this whilst he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the small convenience store beside an exasperated looking Jeno. “Hyuck, I’m pretty sure you can’t.”, “No I’m confident!” He continued, sipping his carbonated drink and cutting Jeno off as he spoke, “Look– I know her inside and out, I’m sure I know just the right tricks to make her fall for me!”

Jeno sighed slightly, knowing it was no use to force Haechan to listen to him. “You shouldn’t play with feelings like this…” He started, taking a sip of his own soda, “Can’t you just tell her you like her like a normal person–“, “you’re seriously no fun.” Jeno deadpanned at the statement, hand ready to reach for the brunets to pull his fingers back, “I just wanna see if she really likes me back for real!” he said, hands fidgeting with the rim of the soda can, “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me and rejects me when I ask her!”

“So the only logical way to fix that is by ‘making her fall in love with you in seven days’?!” Jeno exclaimed, nearly in tears at his own friend’s stupidity. Haechan grinned, “well if she doesn’t like me yet, she’ll definitely like me by the end of this.”

“I’m going to forget about him in the next 7 days.”

Renjun looked up in surprise at the girl’s statement, never having thought of the day she’d finally say it.

“You won’t.” He stated simply, continuing to sketch the tree outside the window of her room. She whined slightly, turning her attention to the boy in her room, “and what makes you say that?”

“You said that two years ago.”, “I was younger then!”, “Sure you were.”

She groaned, falling back on her bed with a thud, “I need to try… this one-sided shit is getting to me…”

Turning to look at the heap of sadness on the bed, Renjun sighed quietly. “I definitely won’t question you if you tell me you’re still in love with him by the end of it.”

“I’m only trying right?”

DAY 1

“How you doin’ gorgeous~”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. What?

“What do you want Hyuck.” She asked with a deadpan, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. Her plan was to study but it seemed as if the man duped as her best friend had other ideas. “I don’t want anything! Can’t I say nice things about you?” He said, taking the seat across from her.

The library was quiet, save for the few students chattering mutedly by the computers. The whole day Haechan had been fine– normal, so to speak… He sat next to her as usual during lunch–as they barely shared any classes this school year–and joked around for a bit, he stole the milk that she had painstakingly waited behind a line of first years to buy, giving her a presumably empty promise that he’d buy her another one… but then he came in the library and said that?

“You’ve never called me that before,” she scoffed, “and if you have, I’d remember.”

Of course she would. Somehow every compliment he had given her always stuck in her mind, even the few ingenuine ones that came out as jokes. The time he called her quick witted when she replied to one of his jokes, the time he said she was pretty good at math’s when she had explained to him how to find an axis… And of course there was the time he had exclaimed how she was prettier than the girl she had been talking shit about… not one of her best feats but... it was something.

So to have him call her gorgeous, even if it was just as a passing nickname… it was something that made her cheeks burn when she remembered his exact wording of the sentence.

“Well that doesn’t matter does it?” he said, leaning over the table to read through the same passage as she had been going through for the last hour, trying to fit anything and everything in her head. “Are you having trouble with anything?”

“Nothing you can help me with.” She scoffed, turning a page. “Aw, come on, don’t say that!” he laughed aloud, earning him an abundance of shushes from the few students scattered around the area. “I’m sure I, with my great expertise, can help you in some way with–“ he looked down at the chapter’s name, “intercontinental… exchange… what the hell is this–“

She laughed lightly at his confusion, “It’s economics,” she smiled, making his heart race with anticipation for some unknown reason, “you won’t get it.”

“Well maybe if you taught me, I’d understand.” He chuckled softly, sitting properly once more and sighing as he stared at the soft curve of her lips. She blushed lightly, realizing the direction of his eyes and looking back down to her book.

Barely the first day and she was already smitten once more with him… she wondered if she’d ever manage to escape from the trap that was Lee Donghyuck.

DAY 2

Closing her locker up, she nearly went into cardiac arrest as she saw none other than Haechan leaning on the locker right beside hers.

“Donghyuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed, heart pounding at a thousand beats per second… or not– maybe she was just exaggerating…

He smirked, an image that had always and forever will be engraved into the crevices of her mind. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

She merely rolled her eyes at him, shoving her textbook into her backpack. “no.” she stated with a deadpan, turning to walk away. “Wait uppp!” he whined, following along behind the exasperated girl. If Jeno was tired of him, then she was something else entirely. How she managed to keep up with the outgoing boy was a mystery even to herself.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked as he caught up with her and took long steps to follow along with her short quick paces, “I was thinking maybe we could go to that new café that just opened– you know, the library one?”

She kept on walking, but her pace slowed significantly. A small tell to her interest in the subject. He smiled.

“You don’t even like reading much.” She said with a chuckle, “why’d you wanna go there?” She asked softly glancing up at him. “Well… you like reading… so–“ he shrugged slightly “–I thought you’d enjoy it…”

See this was the thing about him. Whenever she had made a commitment to stop thinking about him–leave her feelings for him in the dust–he’d always come back strong, making her feel as if he never wanted her to stop liking him. But what could she do? It seemed as if he never had the slightest interest in being anything other than friends.

She smiled softly, sighing as she opened her mouth to give out a small, “alright.” As her answer to his invitation.

“Great! It’s a date!”

The four words stopped her in her tracks between the horde of students walking to and from to get to their classes.

He only grinned, turning to face her as he walked backwards. “I’ll see you after class!”

She was frozen in place it seemed. Blinking as she watched the retreating back of the boy who had… just asked her out?

Again, confusion had begun to settle in. Was this ‘date’ meant to be a romantic date? Or just– one where they hung out as friends and had coffee?

In her confusion, she had forgotten to ask him about the exact day of which their little ‘date’ was supposed to be on… but she was sure he’d text her everything she needed to know about it, right down to the dress code.

Retracing her thoughts, maybe she was wrong… this might have been the first time he’d ever shown any interest in being anything more than friends… And to be quite honest, it may or may not have scared her…

What would she do if it turned out he really had feelings for her…? DAY 3

“I thought you said you were going to stop liking him.”

She had found Renjun in the art room as per usual, painting away at whatever his heart had decided to explore. The golden particles drifted in from the late afternoon sun as she had just finished up her own after school activity. “I want to… But he’s making it so hard!” she exclaimed, sitting on a table to the side at the back of the room.

Renjun was somehow her only sane friend, and even so, he preferred to stay out of her messy love life with the undeniably annoying Haechan. Not to mention that he couldn’t even talk to Haechan without bursting a nerve. “I don’t understand how you don’t see how annoying the boy is.” He said nonchalantly as he continued to mix and match an array of greens to the trees he had started on. “Just thinking of that should be enough to stir you away from him.”

Sighing in aggravation to her situation, she sticked out her tongue at the back of his head. “I saw that.” He stated, barely even looking up from his canvas. “’course you did…” she grumbled lowly, pouting and looking out of the window.

“That’s just the thing…” she started, her tone soft and her eyes unfocused, “he’s not… annoying…”

Renjun scoffed aloud, nearly keeling over in laughter. “Are you sure about that?” He said in between his dying giggles, turning to finally look at the girl who was now looking at him with an unamused look. “Shut up– you know what I mean!” she cried out in annoyance. He made a face, turning back to his painting and continuing to work on the piece. “Really, when you get to know him– he’s more than that!” she tilted her head back to rest on the cool wall of the classroom.

“Today he actually got me the milk I wanted…” she muttered softly, “It’s not much of course… but…”

“You said the other day that you had to wait a long time to get the milk cause of those underclassmen, so– y’know– I got it for you.”

“But it’s enough for you to stay deeply in love with him isn’t it.” Renjun sighed, knowing that she would start yelling as soon as the thought sunk in her head.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She simply sat in thought in the back of the class, watching as Renjun shrugged and continued with his painting. She mulled it over, what he said, and came to the personal conclusion that he in fact was right. It was no use in fighting the feeling. She really did care for him… a little afraid to say love– but she cared for him immensely nonetheless.

She got off the table and walked towards where Renjun sat with his canvas and patted his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks Renjunnie.”

“I told you not to call me that… makes me sound like a child...” He murmured, rolling his eyes before continuing, “what are you even thanking me for anyways? I didn’t do anything. The feelings were there the whole time.”

Her lips turned up slightly, and she hummed softly before walking towards the door.

“You did more than you think.” She said, turning to look at him once more as she opened the door. He merely looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding just how he had helped her in her quest of love. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Yeah… see you…” he muttered quietly, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before shaking his head as the door fell shut.

“Why are all my friends so weird…”

DAY 4

The living room of her house was spacious.

Very much so that she wondered why it felt as if she couldn’t even get a distance away from the clingy boy.

Haechan had come over to help her with some of her class work she was struggling with, and truly, she couldn’t thank him enough for the help… but why did he have to sit so close to her?

He had been reading a passage out to her from the book, shoulders brushing ever so slightly against one another, causing her cheeks to flare with heat. Every single move he made seemed to make her tense up all the more.

She was never like this! Each time they had studied together, even as much as she liked him, it never caused her to blush or fidget as much as she was doing now.

Maybe it was the effect of realizing that he might like her after all… The last three days were such an improvement in that area of their relationship that it made her wonder if he actually had liked her all along and just decided to showcase it all now.

“And that’s why the tectonic pressure in this area is much larger than here.” He explained– arm stretching slightly over her to point at an image on the book. For some unknown reason, she had held her breath ever so slightly as to maybe become stone in the next few seconds. He turned to look at her– their faces not too far from one another, and it was like time had stopped right in that moment, just to make her realize how much trouble she was in by falling for this forsaken boy. She could feel her face redden to the deep color of the roses on the front porch of her house, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle right there and then.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be reactionless. It was as if the proximity of their faces had absolutely no effect on his own heart, bringing up the question in her mind once more whether he actually held any feelings for her other than the simple platonic ones.

“You weren’t paying attention were you?”

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, quite literally, at the accusing statement he had thrown upon her. “I�� Hey! I was listening!”

Suddenly every single feeling of embarrassment left her body as she pushed him playfully, as a means to get away from him as well. He yelped aloud, his back hitting the couch. “You weren’t!” he called out, a smile beginning to grow on the edges of his lips, “I can tell when you’re listening and when you’re not! And here, you were clearly not!”

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she did so. It had been ages since she had laughed so freely, and Haechan soaked up every single moment of it. His smile softened as he watched she tips of her eyes crinkle up and turn into crescents– the sound of her laughter as melodious as his own favorite song. In the moment, he wished so dearly he could just reach over and kiss her face all over, his heard filling up with affection he wished to shower her with.

Her laughter died down and she simply turned to look at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “I really haven’t laughed that much in a while…” she said softly, watching as he nodded in listening. “I can tell.”

She giggled lightly once more. “Should we go back to studying?” she asked, a teasing smile gracing her features, to which he merely scoffed and laughed at.

“Only if you’ll listen properly this time.”

Another 3 days to go. If he was able to successfully make her fall for him, he’d be able to do all he wanted and more. DAY 5

So maybe accepting a walk home from the person you’re trying to forget about isn’t the best strategy to go with… but– in defense, Haechan had been more the one to tag along home, rather than ask her if she wanted anyone to walk her.

She had gotten used to it… but with the antics of the past week and the upcoming date on the Sunday (Yes he had given her all the information the night before. Yes he sent her every available picture there was of the place. Yes he was very excited and honestly, so was she.), who wouldn’t?

As Saturday was a day where she and the rest of the ’00 liners’–as they all preferred to call themselves (though their whole school year was the ’00 line’ so honestly that nickname was rather stupid)–usually had a game night at either Jeno or Jaemin’s house, both she and Haechan had settled on going to the cute little library-esque café on the Sunday.

The whole way home, Haechan couldn’t help but stare softly as she recounted the events of the day. Again, being in different classes had its perks, as there was always something new to tell each other about.

Every step he took felt heavier. He knew they both were getting closer to her house– every time he saw a bench on the side of the street his instinct would tell him to sit down with her and just talk for longer, wanting to keep all her minutes for himself selfishly.

“So that’s why she was kicked out of the class today– I honestly can’t believe she had the nerve to pull that off!” laughing slightly, she turned to face Haechan, “I’m sure you’d do some stupid shit like that too.”

Haechan snapped out of his short daze if not to cry out words of denial, causing her to laugh even louder at his insistence that he would not blend and eat drink his homework just to get extra time on a project.

“After all, I’m not stupid– I don’t need extra project time since I’m just that smart!” He huffed, glancing to the girl beside him to see if he had gauged a reaction out of her. To his delight, she laughed once more, letting him relish in her melodic laughter. “you’re really full of yourself you know?”

This erupted another fit of laughter and denial to spurt from the two, pitter patting home for the day. “I’m not full of myself! I’m just confident!”, “same difference, Hyuck.” She said between breaths as her laughter finally died down.

He merely huffed and pouted– turning to the side and glancing at her a few times to gain her remorse for her mean words ; it clearly didn’t work as all she did was giggle softly and shook her head.

The brush of the back of their hands made his heart pound faster. He glanced down to look and there it was, the soft hand he wanted to hold in his so much. He looked back up in a panic– noticing that they were getting closer to her house.

Unknown to him, her heart was just as heavy at the thought of having to part with him for the day. Though she knew tomorrow would be another day that would definitely be spent with him, it made her sorrowful to think of the fact that they’d have to be apart for the night. Cheesy as it may seem.

As they stood in front of the pathway up to her front door, he debated internally on whether or not he should do what he wanted to do or not, his head spinning at the thought of her maybe thinking he was an idiot for what he was about to do. She smiled up at him, a silent goodbye being exchanged between them, before turning around to walk up the pavement to her house.

“(Y/N)!”

Her feet stopped, and in turn, so did her heart. In a good way, of course, but it stopped nonetheless. She stayed silent for a moment before turning to face the brunet once more. “Yeah?” she asked quietly, a soft smile present on her features.

His mouth dried up. He had nothing to say– stupid! Why did he stop her like that then?

“I– Uh…” he faltered in his words; eyes still stuck on her face. Lips, to be specific.

She tilted her head slightly in question, wondering what was going through that enigma of a mind everyone called Haechan. “Hyuck?”

He smiled and shook his head, opting to grin at her like the idiot in love he was. “Until we meet again tomorrow~” he said in a mock posh accent which made her giggle lightly behind her hand. She merely shook her head and turned once more, walking up to her front door and opening it slowly, turning to give him one last smile before she closed the door.

There he stood like a lovestruck fool in the middle of her driveway as he watched her back turn as she finally walked into the house.

“I wish I had the courage to give you that hug…” DAY 6

Jeno’s house was the choice of the week, Haechan and Jaemin having pestered him into agreement over where they’d all be bundling into for the afternoon.

“I really don’t see why it should have to be my house!” Jeno whined as he stepped into the living room with snacks in hand, “It was already my house last week! It should be nana’s this week…” he trailed off, grumbling as he stepped over the legs of a serious Haechan and sat between the sole girl in their group and Jaemin on the floor. Jaemin laughed aloud, “you have the comfiest sofa!” he hollered out, earning him a kick from Renjun, who’s legs he was sitting in between.

“You’re not even sitting on the sofa,” Renjun retaliated for Jeno, cutting him some slack, “you’re leaning on my legs.”

“Well they sure are comfy if that’s what you’re implying.” Jaemin said, pressing at the buttons erratically as he flurried to beat Haechan at what seemed to be a simple game of mario kart. Hey, anything to beat Haechan right?

“DAMN!” Haechan yelled, causing the girl seated beside him to jump slightly in her seat. Jaemin only laughed, leaning his head up to look at an unimpressed Renjun.

“Hyuck give me the controller, I’m gonna beat Jaemin.” Renjun said with some form of courage to beat the one and only Nana. “Sure you are,” he said, standing up and handing the controller over to Renjun. “Anymore soda anyone?” he asked, stepping to the side to head over to the kitchen. “I’ll have a soda!”, “alrighty! One soda coming right up!” Haechan called out, turning right out to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run out of sodas at the rate you’re drinking them…” Jeno murmured to her softly, a giggle erupting out of her lips, “fine then– I’ll have a cup of tea instead, ‘s that better?” she asked softly, smiling at the black-haired boy beside her. Jeno smiled back, his eyes disappearing behind his perfect crescents, “I’ll go get you some then.” He said, standing up from his seat to get her some tea.

Walking into the kitchen, he tutted lightly as he found Haechan going through his fridge. “And what if my mom was the one who had walked in?” Jeno stated with a deadpan, rolling his eyes at the idiotic grin his friend gave him. “First off– she’s not home. Second off– your mom loves me!” Haechan exclaimed, closing the fridge behind him after finding nothing of his interest. He picked up the sodas on the counter– before Jeno stopped him. “She changed her mind on the sodas, said she’d have tea instead.” He explained, moving to the cabinets to take out some tea to brew for her, to which Haechan simply hummed in understanding before cracking one of the soda cans open and sipping it.

“So…” Jeno started, turning to face him as he leaned on the counter behind him, “how’s the love quest?” He queried, wondering about his best friends own pursuit of love. “Is she ‘in love’ with you yet?”

Haechan shrugged slightly, “I sure hope she is… if not then I’m not sure what I’m gonna do tomorrow…”

“Why… What’s tomorrow?” Jeno questioned again, tilting his head in confusion. In Haechan’s mind… he looked rather like a lost puppy…

“Date.” The only word that came out of Haechan’s mouth as he stared with a smirk on his face to the boy standing opposite him.

Jeno’s eyes widened significantly, “Date? You mean you asked her out successfully?”

Haechan grinned, “Of course I did!”, he boasted smugly, “only a fool wouldn’t be able to make her fall in love! Especially with the shitty dudes she’s liked before.”

Jeno looked up in glee, “then– after that– my days of hell are over! I won’t have to listen to your lamenting again!” He whined when Jeno exclaimed that, shaking his head, “I wasn’t lamenting, you were the one who complained about my topic of conversation–“ he paused, rolling his eyes at the grinning puppy-like boy.

“Alright fine maybe I was,” he agreed begrudgingly, “But hey! I managed to make her fall in love with me AND score a date in 7 days! My lamenting wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Their shared laughter was cut short by the sound of the slamming of the front door and the cries of both Renjun and Jaemin. Haechan looked up worriedly at Jeno, who in turn gestured him to the kitchen exit.

“what’s wrong?” Haechan asked once he reached by the front door beside the other two boys. “You!” Renjun seethed, turning to glare at the brunet, “She was already trying to forget about you and now you play with her feelings like this!”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Haechan scoffed, “I never played her like shit! I was always honest!”, “Then tell me what this stupid 7 day bet is all about!” Renjun yelled in his face, angry for his best friend who had muffled out in tears the short reason she was leaving so early.

“Bet?” he questioned, truly confused as to the entirety of the situation, “what fucking bet?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t play stupid Donghyuck. You were talking to Jeno about some 7 day bet to get her to like you or something–”, “wait, this is all wrong!” Jeno exclaimed, “We never made a bet! Hyuck wanted to confess to her at the end of the week, and that’s why the whole week he had been making proper advances to her…”

The room stilled as the clarity of the situation which was misunderstood settled into their heads.

“I need to talk to (Y/N).” DAY 7

Checking her phone, she grumbled slightly, rereading the message that Haechan had sent to her the evening prior, or rather, spammed her endlessly.

hyuck ♡ : please come tomorrow.

hyuck ♡ : i really really have to talk to you about this :((

hyuck ♡ : please please please

hyuck ♡ : I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come :(((

hyuck ♡ : please? At least consider it?

Sighing quietly as she scrolled through the abundance of messages of theirs from previous sleepless nights, she jumped when she heard the call of the voice she had cried herself to sleep over the night before. Oh his treacherous voice, hurting her feelings like that with the words that came out of his wretched mouth yesterday.

“(Y/N)!” he said, jogging up to her with a grin spread on his face, almost as if yesterday had been a dream and she had simply hallucinated the entire event. But she knew better than to believe him that fast.

Giving him a curt nod, she spoke up before anything could leave his mouth– “Tell me, Donghyuck, what happened yesterday?” she started, face hard with the cut still deep in her heart. His smile faltered, realizing just how much his words had hurt her feelings the day before.

“Do you take my feelings as a joke?” she asked again, looking to her feet in fear of her eyes betraying her and leaving tear stains across her cheeks, “because if you do then i–“

“No!” he cut, knowing that if he let this go on for longer it would only hurt her more, “No, I’d never!”

She was quiet, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, almost as if the quietness would let her hear the sound of his heartbeat.

“Then what… what…”

He sighed softly, “I was… scared.”

Looking up, she was met with the troubled face of the person she once thought to be the largest of mysteries. “I didn’t want to be faced with rejection, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, as a friend or as…” he cleared his throat slightly, turning to the side, “as something more.”

The tension was thick, the street around them continuing on its route of life whilst they both stood in their own quiet bubble. Her eyes softened at his statement, the pieces of the puzzle which was Haechan starting to become clearer by every word.

“And you thought the most logical way to go, was to ‘make me fall in love with you in seven days’? come on Hyuck we’re not in some stupid romance movie–“, Haechan’s whine cut her voice short, “You sound just like Jeno now!” he cried, making her laugh softly, before stepping forward to take his hand in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and looked right back up at her questioningly. “what…”

“If you liked me, you really should have just said so…” she muttered softly, shaking her head with a slight giggle, “If you did, it definitely would have saved us 7 days.”

He grinned widely, “so this… makes us boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?” he asked, grin turning into a teasing smirk on his face, making the girl before him scoff and laugh.

“We’ll see in 7 days.”

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