#interior style for coffee shop
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soniadiez · 2 years ago
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11oh1 · 9 months ago
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unique-goods-where-to-buy · 2 years ago
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Philips Cafe Duo, 1983.
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Shop    
IG
Mono Reco  
Rëomes Official
Raw Edge Gallery
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glancingeye · 1 year ago
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Today is National Coffee Day! More -More -More Coffee please Inspiration by #glancingeye ☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕❤️☕
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onice-vg · 2 years ago
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andulkaphoto · 2 years ago
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loudstan · 11 months ago
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How to (not) Write a Book
Summary: For Taeyong, asking his mate out was easy. The hard part was not fucking her brains out every time he saw her.
Pairing: Werewolf! Taeyong x Female reader
Warnings: uh...smut as usual. Y/N is horny, bubu snaps at some point and...yeah she fucks around and finds out I guess. Also I made him cry, sorry
 You wanted inspiration and you had found it alright. This town had everything you could need to write your next book: witches, vampires, werewolves and you had even heard you could stumble upon a few faes if you went deep into the forest, which was amazing because faes were becoming a popular topic in literature and your editor was pushing you to write about them.  
The cheap motel where you were staying(which was probably haunted), the lively streets, and even the coffee shop you had just found were out of this world; the cozy interior was illuminated by candles and plates filled with cake magically floated towards their designated table while the baristas prepared beverages that smelled heavenly. 
Too mesmerized by what was happening around you made your way to the counter without looking where you were going and accidentally bumped into a customer who was picking up his order.
“Sorry!” you quickly said. “My bad, I wasn’t paying atten–”
The customer turned around and gasped loudly, dropping his coffee. 
Ok? That was either a very delayed reaction, or you looked ugly enough to scare the poor guy as soon as he saw you. You didn’t want to cause trouble in a foreign land, so you quickly grabbed some tissues from the counter and tried your best to clean the stains of coffee on his clothes.
“I’m really sorry. I’ll buy you a new one,” you insisted, panicking at his lack of reaction. He was just standing there, frozen like a statue.
You finally looked at his face and it was now your turn to gasp.
He was the most alluring person you had ever seen. Was he a fae? A vampire? He had to be a creature who used his beauty to attract his prey, otherwise, it would make no sense that he looked like that. 
“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out and regretted it immediately. Who says that to a stranger?
The man’s eyes sparkled, and his cheeks turned pink as his mouth morphed into a grin. The sight of his pointed teeth heightened his charming face, which you could only describe as unfairly perfectly symmetrical. The universe really had its favorites. 
He didn’t only have natural beauty; his hair was also perfectly styled to match an attire, clearly tailored to his body, and his perfume overpowering the aroma of coffee smelled expensive.
You cleared your throat before trying to communicate once again. “Uh, sorry about that. Are you okay?”
 He licked his lips and his reddened eyes scanned your entire frame, but his only reply was what sounded like a satisfied hum. It was a simple sound, but it did something to you.
It sent shivers down your spine and your heart beat at an erratic pace. Your face felt hot and your body weakened, your legs trembled, and suddenly the room was spinning around you.
But the man’s arms held you in place before you fell flat on the floor and then he pressed your body against his with urgency. 
 His warmth added to the mixture of strange sensations, but even if your body wasn’t functioning properly, your brain was on high alert: if this man had caused you to react like this against your will, then he surely wasn’t human.
You let out a silent cry when his lips caressed your neck. 
Oh no. A vampire. Just your luck. You were going to die.
“I found you,” he murmured against your skin. His voice was way too raspy and deep for such a delicate face like his, and it made you tremble from head to toes. 
Your heart was beating so fast and hard you could hear it. You would probably have a heart attack before he killed you. You whimpered in fear, but a small part of you liked his warmth surrounding you. Why were you suddenly feeling…good? Now you had no doubt he was a vampire, playing with his food by making you feel pleasure before devouring you. 
“Why do you smell distressed?” He purred, sounding a little wounded, and then you felt teeth against your pulse. 
This was it. You couldn’t believe your life would end like this.
You sobbed quietly and closed your eyes, preparing for what was coming, but suddenly you were on the floor, away from the man’s hold. 
You blinked twice and slowly started becoming aware of what was happening around you; the customers and staff were screaming and backing away from the commotion, the beautiful man you had assumed was a vampire was on the floor too, in the opposite corner of the cafe.  Between you and him there was another young man, who the vampire was glaring at furiously.
“What the fuck, Mark?” he hissed.
Mark gulped. His pale face and tense posture showed he was terrified, but he didn’t back down. “Taeyong hyung, you need to calm down.”
“Move,” Taeyong growled.
“I really don’t think this is the right–Oh my god,” he whined when the older bore his teeth and stood up.
 Taeyong tried to walk towards you, but Mark blocked the way.
“Are you challenging your alpha?” Taeyong gnarled.
Mark shook his head but when Taeyong tried to push him out of the way, he locked his arms around the leader solidly and they both fell on the floor, wrestling as their roars made the store’s windows shake and people ran away in terror. 
You tried to get up too, but your legs wouldn’t respond and you could only watch in fear at the animalistic display of power in front of you. 
Soon Mark was forced into submission by Taeyong, but he still made weak attempts to stop him from reaching for you.
In that moment you heard hurried steps and three more men jumped on top of Taeyong, who was furious at their insolence. 
A black haired man checked on Mark, before turning to the source of the riot.
“Taeyong, stop!’
“You don’t tell me what to do, Doyoung,” Taeyong snarled, trying to free himself from his captors. “Get off me!” he growled, jabbing and kicking at them.
“Don’t do this, Taeyong. Not like this,” Doyoung begged, holding Taeyong’s face in his hands. “You’re scaring her.”
Something clicked in Taeyong he stopped struggling. He looked around and saw that the coffee shop had been destroyed, some people were hiding under the tables, and Mark’s lower lip was bleeding. Finally, his eyes landed on your terrified ones and he was consumed by shame and guilt.
“I–” he wanted to apologize, but his body was overwhelmed and before he could say another word, he fell unconscious in his friends’ arms.
The group of men holding him let out a synchronized sigh.  
“That was horrifying,” Mark was the first one to speak, sitting on a chair nearby and wincing in pain.
“Jungwoo, please take Mark to a healer,” Doyoung requested. “Johnny, Jaehyun! Help me take Taeyong home.”
“Sure, I think I could use a visit to the healer myself,” Jungwoo said, limping slightly while walking out with Mark. 
“I had never seen him this…feral,” Jaehyun said.
“He does get a bit too brutal during his rut, but this was…,” Johnny trailed off, not sure of how to finish that sentence. “If Mark hadn’t been here, that girl…”
“The girl!” Doyoung quickly turned around to check on you but you were nowhere to be found. “I guess she ran away…”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Jaehyun asked rethorically, as they all carried their leader to the car. 
“I doubt she’ll want to see Taeyong after this,” Johnny said.
“She’ll understand once we explain it to her,” Doyoung assured them.
“If we manage to find her again,” Jaehyun murmured.
You had been holding your breath until you heard them leave, hiding behind the abandoned counter. 
“Thank god it’s over!” a relieved voice exclaimed next to you, making you jump and yelp. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not dangerous! I was hiding here too! This is my coffee shop,” the man quickly explained. “My name is Taeil.”
“Oh– I’m Y/N…” you mumbled. “Sorry for the mess…”
“It’s not your fault, don’t worry. I’ll have a word with the pups later.”
“Pups?”
“Werewolves,” he said, grabbing a couple of cups from the shelf.
“Oh…OH! They said something about an alpha,” you remembered, trying to make sense of the whole situation. “So he wasn’t a vampire after all. He must have been close to his rut.”
“Yeah…you could say that,” the man partially agreed, offering you a cup of coffee. “On the house. This is embarrassing to admit but I’m a member of the pack who caused all this...”
“You’re a werewolf too?” you asked incredulously and let him guide you to a table that hadn’t been destroyed. “Then why were you hiding?”
“It was scary,” he shrugged and sat down across the table.
You let out an incredulous laugh and took a sip of your coffee. This guy was being serious but somehow he made everything sound hilarious. 
“Something’s different about you,” he suddenly said, observing you carefully. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m not,” you replied. “I’m here for business. I’m writing a book about some creatures that live here.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Something like that, yes,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s why I came. I’m hoping to rent a place near the forest to observe the faes.”
“Faes?” Taeil’s lips turned downwards. “Those are a bit too dangerous, don’t you think?”
“I’ll be careful.”
“There are so many other creatures to write about,”  he insisted.
“I’m really interested in faes,” you said. “And there isn’t quite enough literature about them, so I thought I should talk to them in person to understand them better.”
“Talk to them?” he repeated incredulously. “You definitely shouldn’t do that…”
“I heard I can find some in the East Forest,” you pressed, ignoring his apprehension. “Is that true?”
“...It is,” he conceded. “But there aren’t any places to rent in there,” he quickly added.
“I’ll just camp in the woods,” you shrugged.
The man choked on his coffee and coughed loudly. “CAMP?” 
“Just until I finish my book.”
“Oh my god,” he shook his head. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” you replied without hesitation and finished your drink, ready to leave. “Thanks for the coffee, Taeil!”
“I HAVE A HOUSE FOR RENT! ” He blurted out in panic when he saw you standing up.
You raised your eyebrows. “You said there was no place available near the forest.”
“Technically, there isn’t…,” he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. “They don’t build homes near the forest because of the faes… but I own a little hut, not too deep into the woods, which I was using to store some stuff…”
“For real?” you asked excitedly. 
He nodded, taking out his phone and showing you some pictures of the place. It was a small, lovely, wooden hut surrounded by trees. 
“It’s not furnished, but I could get it ready for you in about a week,” the kind werewolf offered because he clearly didn’t want you to camp in the forest. “But you would have to promise me to stay inside the house at night.”
“Why?”
“Faes become… restless when the sun goes down. If you really need to talk to one of them, do it during the day.” 
You nodded and took mental note of an interesting new fact about faes. Then you asked a few more questions about the house, which he replied to, along with giving you some extra safety tips before offering you to rent the place for an incredibly low price. 
“Thank you so much!” you exclaimed happily, forgetting about what had happened earlier with the Taeyong, thrilled at the idea of moving to such a nice place, for cheap and meeting some of your favorite magical creatures. 
“No problem,” he said, handing you back your phone where he had added his contact information for you two to seal the deal later. “No one’s staying there at the moment, so it’s not an issue,” he added, walking you to the door and bidding you goodbye.
You thanked him again and happily walked back to the motel you were currently staying in. 
“Where were you?!” Johnny asked Taeil when he arrived home. “It’s your own cafe. How did you just disappear?”
“I was hiding behind the counter,” Taeil admitted shamelessly.
“Wow, thanks a lot, hyung” Mark said sarcastically from the sofa, holding a cold pack against his cheek.
“I’m not strong. I would have been useless anyway,” Taeil said. “I found Taeyong’s mate, by the way. Her name’s Y/N.”
“ Is she okay?” Doyoung asked, entering the living room. 
“She’s fine, it looks like she forgot about the whole incident already.”
“Do you know where to find her?” Jungwoo asked.
“Yes, well…about that…I need some help casting a protection spell on my old hut in the woods… because she’ll be living there,” Taeil trailed off as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bunch of herbs and salt. 
“WHAT?!” Doyoung hissed, following Taeil to the kitchen. “That area is infested with faes!”
“She has a thing for faes,” Taeil replied. “She was going to camp in the woods just to study them and write about it in her book.”
“Ah, so she’s a lunatic,” Jungwoo said.
“She’ll go to the forest no matter what, so I offered that hut because then we can at least know where she is and protect the place.”
“That’s actually smart,” Doyoung conceded and started looking for some herbs to help with the spell.
“We need to buy a bed and some other stuff because that house is empty right now,” Taeil added.
“Alright, to IKEA we go,” Jaehyun sighed and stood up. 
“I’ll go with you!” Jungwoo yelled happily.
“No,” Jaehyun groaned. “It takes you forever to choose what to buy.”
“And you have terrible taste in furniture,” Jungwoo replied. “Always buying the cheapest shit.”
“The bed can’t be cheap,” Johnny said. “Remember Taeyong can potentially spend his rut there. And you guys know how he gets.”
As if on cue, they heard a loud crash followed by the squeaking noise of the bed dragging back and forth on the floor mixed with guttural moans coming from the second floor.
“Looks like he’s awake…,” Mark mumbled, getting pale again, thinking that his leader would have his head after what happened at the coffee shop.
“Don’t worry. I secured his room with a spell,” Doyoung quickly assured him. “You’re safe.”
“I don’t know, I think I kinda wanna go to IKEA,” Mark said nervously.
“The more the merrier,” Jungwoo encouraged enthusiastically. 
The next few days were torture for Taeyong. He had a fever, his body ached and his erection wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times he came. He knew the reason: his wolf wouldn’t be satisfied until he claimed his mate. But his pack had put a spell around his room, making it impossible for him to leave, which made sense, because those were the instructions he had given them a long time ago in case he met his mate and couldn’t control himself. His pack had left enough snacks and drinks for him to survive for as long as his rut lasted, and he thankfully had his own private bathroom inside his room, but what he needed was his mate.
“Doyoung,” Taeyong approached the door and called for his friend. “Doyoung, open the door. I need out.”
No answer came from the other side of the door, but Taeyong wouldn’t give up. “I know you’re there. Just let me out. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“…I can’t do that,” Doyoung finally replied, and then he jumped when Taeyong banged on the door loudly.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” The leader yelled, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Please. It hurts,” he pleaded.
“Taeyong…”
“I’ll be gentle,” Taeyong bargained. “I won’t hurt her. I just need to see her, please…”
“I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Doyoung agreed. “But this isn’t you.”
“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke through gritted teeth. “Your alpha commands it.”
Doyoung inhaled sharply. Taeyong was using his alpha voice, which made his wolf ache to comply, but he knew if he let him out now, the leader would do something he would regret.
“My best friend is more important than my alpha. I won’t let you fuck this up for yourself. Get back to your senses and then you can see her,” he replied stoically. “Her name is Y/N, by the way,” he added before walking away.
“Y/N…” Taeyong sighed, leaning his head on the cool material of the door. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember your scent and the way you trembled in his arms like a scared bunny. Cute. His wolf loved it. “Oh…” he breathed out, pressing his lower body against the door, slowly humping the barrier that kept him from finding you. This would have to do until he caught you and had you shaking again.
 After a long night of sweating and cumming, he finally reached for one of the many bottles of water they had prepared for him. Three days later he gained enough clarity to eat something. Five days later his member would remain soft for a few hours a day, which allowed him to take a proper break. After a week he had successfully survived what he was sure was the worst rut of his life. He got up slowly, dizzy and sweaty, and took a look at his room: it was in ruins, with clothes and personal belongings scattered on the floor. His bed was disgusting, the bedsheets were sticky and wrinkled, his pillow had been torn apart, and its filling was everywhere. The door was marked with scratches that looked too deep and big to be human, which had to mean he had transformed at some point. If it hadn’t been for the spell, he would have easily broken the door and escaped. 
Taeyong started picking everything up and cleaning the place. Then he jumped into the shower and allowed the hot water to relieve his aching muscles and clear his mind. Slowly, memories of the scene he caused in the coffee shop popped up and he cringed. He had to apologize to so many people now. 
He got dressed in comfy clothes, dried his hair, and attempted to open the damaged door. This time he was able to get out easily, which meant that the spell was meant to last as long as he was in rut. 
Then he took a deep breath in and walked down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. He heard his pack members laughing loudly over the sound of the TV, which meant it was movie night. It was a good thing that they were together, so he could properly apologize in front of everyone, but his anxiety grew and his eyes started watering as he got closer to his destination.
 He had made a scene and attacked his own pack. What type of leader loses control like that? He was so ashamed he turned back, ready to hide in his room again.
“Taeyong,” Doyoung’s calm voice called for him. Of course Doyoung would notice him before he had the chance to run away.
Taeyong whimpered and looked back, to where his pack was making space for him to sit. They had paused the movie and were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to join in. He bit his lip nervously and sat down. His eyes landed on Mark; he looked fine, but there was still a small bruise on his face as evidence of what he had done to him. Mark caught him staring and offered him a reassuring smile. Tears finally rolled down Taeyong’s cheeks.
“Mark, I–,” the leader sobbed and hid his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hyung, I’m fine,” Mark said softly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“You did him a favor,” Haechan added. “I think you fixed his nose.”
Taeyong snorted mid-sob at the unexpected joke and wiped his tears with the back of his hand, letting out a soft giggle.
“Everyone’s fine,” Jaehyun said, patting his leader’s back comfortingly. 
“Still, I should have controlled myself,” Taeyong mumbled.
“Pff…if you hadn’t controlled yourself, Mark wouldn’t be here,” Johnny said.
Mark laughed nervously. 
“And the place you destroyed was Taeil hyung’s shop, so no one cares,” Jungwoo said.
“Fuck you, guys,” Taeil said but he was laughing too. “No more free coffee for you.”
There was a pause when the laughter ended and Taeyong looked at Doyoung.
“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” he admitted apologetically.
“Oh, that? Your alpha voice isn’t as powerful as you think,” Doyoung shrugged smugly. “I think I’m the real leader of this pack.”
“Didn’t you have a panic attack right after you disobeyed him—“ Yuta tried to ask, but he was quickly interrupted.
“That’s not important now,” Ten interrupted, sitting closer to his leader. “You found your mate!”
Everyone cheered, making Taeyong blush and chuckle. He was overjoyed to finally meet the one he had been waiting for for so long…but then his anxiety came back.
“I don’t think I’m ready though,” he whispered.
“You are,” Doyoung rebutted.
“I almost bit her…”
“She’s fine,” Taeil said. 
 “You’ve helped many of us get together with our mate,” Jaemin agreed. “No one has prepared for this moment more than you.”
“But I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Taeyong said.
“Like what?” Kun asked.
“Like…like I’m some type of animal,” Taeyong groaned. “The things I wanna do to her I just–I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t—,” he paused and blushed. “...You know…”
“Oh, that’s normal,” Jeno assured him, laughing. 
“It is?” Taeyong asked, surprised. 
“Yeah!” Jeno insisted. “All of us who are mated have gone through that.”
“So it gets better later, right?” the leader asked hopefully.
“No,” a choir of voices replied. 
“But the bond works both ways,” Yuta added. “Soon she’ll be wanting you just as much as you want her.”
Taeyong’s face was hot. He wanted that. He wanted everything with you. “First I have to apologize to her.”
“Good thing we know where to find her,” Doyoung smiled.
Your new temporary home was more than you could ever wish for. It had a perfectly functioning bathroom and a kitchen. It was also fully furnished and excessively decorated in a way that made you think many people had been involved in the process because nothing matched. Your favorite thing was the little window in the kitchen which offered you a beautiful view of the forest while doing the dishes. You often opened the window to feel the breeze, smell the fresh grass and listen to the birds singing, and even if it was getting darker you could catch a glimpse of the stream and— were those eyes?!
You gasped and whoever was hiding far behind the bushes ducked down. They would have been successful if it wasn’t because of their pointy ears peeking out. 
You gasped again, this time out of excitement, and rushed out to meet your visitor. They had to be a fae!
Once you stepped out of the house, and stood near the entrance, waving at the creature, who was still hiding shyly behind the bushes.
“Hi,” you greeted them softly. “It’s okay! I won’t hurt you.”
The fae shifted enough for you to see their beautiful features, they seemed to be a male, with silky dark hair and pale skin. He looked at your house and tilted his head.
“I live here,” you continued talking, pointing at the wooden hut. “Do you live in the forest?” 
He gave you a short nod without taking his eyes off of you. Despite his lethargic expression, he seemed curious.
“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You had this habit of talking non-stop when you were excited or nervous. “What’s your name?”
The fae’s plump lips twisted into a little smile. “Soobin.”
“Nice to meet you, Soobin! I guess we’re neighbors,” you smiled at him.
 “Sweet,” he whispered.
“Hm?” you asked.
“Smells sweet,” he said this time loud enough to hear, and he stood up, revealing he was way taller than what you expected. He was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a crochet open shirt that didn’t quite cover his lean torso and eclectic necklaces and pendants adorned his neck.
“Oh, that’s probably the pie I baked,” you replied. “Do you want some?”
The man licked his lips and took a step toward you, but then he tensed and glared at a spot on the ground in front of him. “I cannot get closer,” he muttered. 
You stared at the ground too, looking for whatever he was looking at, but you couldn’t see anything. Maybe he just didn’t trust you enough to get closer. 
“Let me bring you a piece, then,” you offered, running back into the kitchen and placing a big piece of fresh pie on a plate. Then you went out to see him waiting for you in the same spot, still glaring at the ground.
You tried to keep your distance while offering him the plate, not wanting to scare him. 
“Closer,” he whispered.
You took a step towards him, but contradictorily he took a step back.
“...May I come closer?” you asked confusedly. 
He nodded and looked at your feet.
You took a hesitant step towards him and he took another step back. It made no sense, but he was smiling now, so you guessed this was what he wanted. 
“Is this okay?” you asked, taking another step.
“Yes,” he chuckled, taking another step back. It seemed to be some type of game for faes. Whatever it was, he looked like he was having fun.
You couldn’t help but laugh too as you took another step, even without understanding the nature of the game. “Closer?”
“Closer,” he agreed. 
You took another step, but he didn’t step back this time. He moved his hands towards you and instead of picking the plate, he grabbed your arms.
 At that moment a growl echoed in the before peaceful forest, catching you by surprise. Soobin looked as confused as you, with his widened eyes scanning the already dark trees around you. He then turned around slightly, while still holding you and you saw it: a big grey wolf lurking behind Soobin, bearing his teeth threateningly. 
“Alpha,” Soobin acknowledged the wolf with a nod.
The animal’s red eyes glared at the fae, trying to communicate something that you couldn’t catch. But Soobin seemed to understand the message.
 “It is past dusk,” the fae said in a defensive tone, never letting go of you. “It is allowed.”
The wolf let out an aggressive snarl, and even you understood that they did not like whatever Soobin was implying.
The fae sighed and he hesitantly let go of your arms. “I do not wish to fight you, alpha. But let it be the last time. Rules are rules.”
“What’s going on?” you asked Soobin, still frozen in your place. 
“Alpha is not happy to see me,” the fae replied simply and took the plate from your hands. “Thank you for the pie,” he added, looking between you to the wolf one last time and walking away with a smile. 
“C-come back anytime!” you offered as you saw him leave. That was not how you expected your first encounter with a fae to go. He seemed to be sweet and willing to be your friend. You had so much you wanted to ask, but then this wolf had to scare him away. Soobin had called him alpha and you knew there was only one pack of werewolves in town. You had met the pack’s alpha before…
“Taeyong,” you turned to look at the wolf angrily. 
The wolf’s ears lowered and he winced. You knew it was him?
“Shift and come in. We need to talk,” you said before stomping back into the house, leaving the door open behind you.
A minute after the man you had met at the coffee shop a week ago and who had almost given you a heart attack stood at your door, fixing his clothes nervously. 
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his human form. You remembered him being good-looking, but his beauty was surreal. You had to remind yourself you were mad at him.
“Get in and close the door already” you commanded. “It’s getting cold.”
The man hesitated momentarily before finally stepping inside the house and closing the door behind him, but he stayed as far away from you as possible. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
God, why was he so cute?
“You should be,” you replied, setting a couple of plates on the table
“I lost control. I know it’s not an excuse, but–”
“Damn right it isn’t, you scared poor Soobin!”
“I–What?” he asked.
“He was opening up and now I don’t know if he’ll ever come back!” you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh as you searched for cups in the cabinet.
“...That’s what’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Yes! I need to interview a fae!”
“...You were trying to interview him,” he repeated slowly. 
“That’s right, and you interrupted us just when he allowed me to get closer,” you groaned, sitting in one of the chairs and pouring some tea into your cup. “Take a seat,” you told Taeyong. 
You may be mad, but you were still a good host. Taeyong was family to Taeil, and Taeil had been good to you, so you would be good to Taeyong and at least feed him while telling him off.
He bit his lip and sat down on the chair across from you. “I think you got it wrong. He didn’t allow you to get closer, he took you out of the protection circle on purpose.”
“The what?” you asked, biting on a piece of pie.
“The protection circle around this house,” he said as if it was obvious. “Can’t you feel it?”
You swallowed the pastry and looked around, trying to see if there was anything off with the house besides the odd decoration. “Feel what?”
Taeyong tilted his head. Anyone with a tiny bit of magic in their body would be able to notice the house was under a spell. 
Oh…
“You’re not a witch…” he gasped. Taeil said he had sensed something different about your aura but that he wasn’t sure what it was. This had to be it.
“I’m not,” you agreed. 
The color drained from Taeyong’s face. 
“Then what are you doing here?! It’s dangerous!” he whisper-shouted, looking around like he was afraid anyone would hear. 
“I’m writing a book,” you replied.
“About faes?!” he asked. “No, no, no, please. Do you even know what faes do to humans?!”
“...No,” you admitted. “Do you?”
“No! No one knows! They take them away. Make them disappear. That’s why this area is not accessible for tourists and even magic users stay away after sunset!” Taeyong let out a frustrated groan and placed one of his palms on his chest, trying to calm his beating heart. “Didn’t Taeil tell you to go out only during daylight?”
“He did,” you remembered. “But I thought he was overreacting.”
Taeyong could cry because of how stressed he was. Not only did his mate turn out to be human, but she was also clueless and living in an enchanted forest like it was nothing.
He took a deep breath in and tried his best to explain everything calmly. “Faes have been here for centuries, so this land belongs to them. We have no power to tell them what to do, but they at least agreed to make a deal with us and not hunt during the day.”
“...Soobin was…hunting?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. 
Taeyong nodded.
“He was going to take me away…” you whispered, staring blankly at your plate. You weren’t that hungry anymore. How could someone who looked so sweet and innocent be hunting humans? 
“Yes,” the Werewolf grunted. He hated how easily you had followed Soobin out of the protection circle. He hated the way he had touched your arm. He hated thinking about the possibility of you being gone who knows where. You were too careless for a fragile human. 
You both sat there without saying a word until you cleared your throat awkwardly. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. “But please don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” you replied. “Sorry…”
“I should be the one to apologize. That’s why I came here today,” he murmured. “The way I behaved at the coffee shop was not okay.”
“...Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering the event. “Well, that was an accident, right?”
“Uh…yes…” he said, sipping on his cup of tea.
“I guess your ruts are irregular,” you hummed.
“My r–,” he blushed and choked. You had thought about him in rut? 
“Do you take suppressants?” you asked casually, not noticing that he was mortified.
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm… That’s odd,” you commented. “Then you shouldn’t have entered your rut so fast and out of nowhere. Did someone trigger it?”
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were wide and glossy, as he stared at you in silence. He tried to think of something to say, but he didn’t want to lie to you nor did he want to scare you. 
You had studied supernatural creatures before, so you were able to put two and two together. 
“...It was me, huh?” you asked.
Oh, well. He was fucked. 
“H-how did you know?” he asked in the smallest voice you had heard, looking away.
You hummed.
“You went straight for my neck, so at first I thought you were a vampire, but you turned out to be a werewolf. I can only think of one reason why you would want to bite my neck.”
Taeyong gulped. He was shaking with anxiety. You probably found him disgusting.
“I’m s-sorry…” he whimpered with difficulty because of the way his breathing had quickened.
“Hey, calm down. Breathe,” you instructed.
“I’ve w-waited for so long I…I didn’t mean to– I just couldn’t-...” 
“Taeyong,” you called his name firmly and held his trembling hands in yours, making him gasp. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control it.”
He was still too terrified to look into your eyes. “I don’t w-want to force you–”
“I know,” you assured him.
“I just w-wanted to get to know you…”
“We can do that,” you conceded.
“...Really?” he finally looked up and his eyes lightened up with hope.
“Really,” you replied. “It’s the least I can do for someone who saved me from being abducted by faes,” you joked, but he didn’t find it funny.
“That’s not why I did it! You don’t owe me anything–”
“I know,” you chuckled. “That’s not the only reason. I also think you’re cute.”
You had broken him. His face was as red as the cherries that adorned the forgotten pie and he was struggling to hold back a shy smile. He sighed, relieved, and now it was his turn to hold your hands in his, bringing them to his chest.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sighed. “I’ll do it right, I’ll treat you well, I’ll court you the way you deserve.”
You giggled. “Court me? How about you give me your number first?”
And that’s how you started dating the kindest man you had ever met. He was a walking green flag, gentle, respectful, and patient… Sometimes too patient. 
He insisted on taking things slow, and it took him almost two months of courting before he agreed to officially call himself your boyfriend, because, according to him, he hadn’t earned it yet. 
You didn’t want to be ungrateful but there were times when his chivalry frustrated you. Yes, he treated you like a queen, took care of you, and listened to you but sometimes you wished he actually kissed you instead of quickly pecking your lips and pulling away. 
You enjoyed his company as it was, but you couldn’t deny the burning desire that consumed you whenever he was near you. 
“Taeyong,” you called his name after you finished cleaning up the table. 
“Yeah?” he replied absentmindedly while washing the dishes.
“Can we make out?” you asked straight to the point.
He almost dropped the plate he was holding. His whole body tensed and he continued staring at the running water. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself. He had heard you perfectly.
“Is that a no?” you asked, taking a few steps closer.
Taeyong closed the water tap and turned around to face you, leaning against the sink.
“Of course, we can, my love,” he said, offering you a smile that somehow seemed a little forced. 
Before he had the chance to take it back you pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back softly, but as usual, he pulled away quickly. 
“That’s not making out,” you pouted.
“Let’s take things slow,Y/N,” Taeyong said, ready to resume his domestic task, but you were tired and frustrated, so you grabbed him by the nape and kissed him hard. 
He gasped in surprise but he had been controlling himself for too long, and his wolf was not going to waste this chance. He gave you an open-mouthed kiss that felt too urgent for someone who wanted to take things slow, and when you sucked on his tongue he moaned loudly, finally daring to use his hands on you. 
His still-wet fingers tangled in your hair and angled your head for his lips to fit yours perfectly, allowing his tongue to play with yours quite aggressively. 
A shiver ran down your spine when he switched positions to have you pressed against the sink, and you let your hands travel down his torso.
That’s when he detached himself from you abruptly. 
“Was that better?” he asked as evenly as he could with his chest rising and falling erratically.
“Yeah…” you breathed out.
He nodded.“Go rest, love.I’ll finish cleaning.”
For him, that had been the closest he had been to losing his sanity. He had to lock himself up as soon as he got back home due to another unscheduled rut–which was happening more frequently the closer he got to you– and he couldn’t stop thinking about how good you tasted and how easily he could manhandle your fragile body. 
He  had opened Pandora’s box. Now he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you every chance he got. 
‘Just a kiss,’ he kept telling himself. ‘I will stop before it gets serious.’
But God, was it hard when he had you all pretty on his lap, with your breasts pressed against his pecs and driving him crazy.
“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Hm?” you murmured, kissing his jaw and neck slowly.
He tilted his head back and rested it on the sofa when your lips brushed a spot where you could feel his strong pulse. 
“Oh… Y-Y/N,” It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite remember what. Especially when you rolled your hips against his like that. So he just whined. 
“What is it, baby?” you asked, dropping more of your weight on his lap. 
His breath hitched and his eyes snapped open in your direction, a reddish tone replacing his usual eye color. His fingers dug into your hips as he pressed you against him harder, humming when he heard you moan faintly.
His lips chased yours and he wasted no time in sliding his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you fiercely and let out breathy moans while guiding your hips against his crotch insistently.
“Tae–...b-baby that feels…” you manage to breathe out as your hips shake in his hands.
“G-good?” he asked in the softest voice despite his lusty eyes and his hips thrusting against your core harshly. 
“So good, baby,” you gasped. “Can you g-give me more?”
“Anything,” he breathed out, eyes dazed, allowing his hands to travel your body. “Everything…”
“Good boy,” you praised him lovingly, reaching for the hem of his pants to free his painful erection.
“Mm…Ah,” he moaned softly as you palmed him over his boxers. When your thumb pressed against the head he let out an audible gasp. 
“Y/N, w-we have to stop,” he panted urgently, but his body said something different; one of his hands kept yours firmly pressed against his cock, while the other slid under your shirt, looking for your breasts. “Gotta…gotta s-stop…”
“Do you w-want to stop?” you asked him, whimpering when his fingers found one of your nipples, while his other hand guided yours up and down his cock.
He shook his head.
“Then why do we…ah! Why do we h-have to stop, b-baby?”
He stared at your lips dumbfounded, still moving your hand up and down, harder, faster. There was a reason why he had to stop. He had to. But why? He just couldn’t remember…
“I don’t know…,” he admitted.
 The hand that was caressing your breasts, slid down your stomach, drawing gentle patterns until it slid past the hem of your shorts. Your hips jumped slightly  and he breathed shakily when his fingers slid into your panties, immediately getting then soaked.
“B-baby…,” you breathed out when he slowly took his digits out and brought them to his mouth. 
He opened wide, sticking his tongue out , and then sucked on his fingers lewdly. 
Suddenly, his head rolled back, his back arched, and his body convulsed. He moaned around his fingers and a big wet patch formed on his boxers, right where he was holding your hand so desperately. 
You gasped at the sight of him cumming just because of your taste. “Oh my god…,” you murmured, pressing the palm of your hand against him harder and feeling his cock squirt another generous amount of cum while he trembled under you.
Once you thought it may be too much for him, you released his member and his body relaxed on the sofa. His mouth finally let go of his fingers, leaving behind a trail of saliva. He was panting and his wide eyes were fixed on the ceiling, trying to comprehend the pleasure he had felt. 
“Taeyong?” you called his name gently.
 It was like the sound of your voice brought him back to reality. Or maybe it drove him further into madness because he hugged your waist and pressed your crotches together urgently.
“Y-you too…” he begged, before kissing you messily, making an uncoordinated attempt to dry hump you.
You kissed him back, slowly moving against his still-hard member, but the pace didn’t quite satisfy him. He grabbed your hips harshly and moved your body insistently back and forth.
“Ah, right t-there,” you encouraged him, letting him set the pace. 
He hissed. The chaff of your clothed clit on his sensitive tip was pleasurably painful and your moans mixed with your aroused scent had him forgetting about all the possible downsides of letting his wolf loose. It felt too good.
“I’m cumming,” you gasped, shaking on his lap. “B-baby— Oooh!”
“Yeah…” he moaned, pulling you into a suffocating hug and giving your neck wet, sloppy kisses. 
You opened your eyes slowly, feeling weak and dizzy, but incredibly happy. You had wanted to feel Taeyong close to you since you had started dating and now it was finally happening. You sighed and looked down at your boyfriend who was still clinging to you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Then you felt liquid dripping down your chest.
“Tae—,” you laughed, thinking it was saliva and whipping it off with your hand but your smile dropped when you saw your fingers tainted red. “What…”
Did he bite you? You hadn’t felt anything at all. You could hear him panting, but you were sure his fangs were not on your skin. 
You quickly pushed him off you, pressing his back on the sofa and taking a look at him. He was pale, covered in sweat, displaying a lost expression and his mouth and chin were stained with fresh blood. 
Your hand flew to your neck, finding more of the red liquid, but the smooth texture of your skin proved you hadn’t been bitten. 
That blood wasn’t yours.
What he had bitten was his own hand.
The same he had earlier used to touch your folds and taste you was now covered in blood, displaying an injury in the shape of a crescent moon.
“Taeyong!” You screamed, forgetting all about the pleasure you had just felt and running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
When you came back and started examining his wound he seemed more conscious.
“How did this happen?!” You asked him, carefully disinfecting the bite.
His beautiful eyes looked at you with sadness but no words came from his lips.
“Why did you do that?” you continued rambling on until you heard a quiet sob. “Taeyong?”
He looked away, but you had already seen the tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, cupping his face on your palms and trying to make eye contact.
He placed his hands on top of yours gently, still weeping bitterly.
“Does it hurt that bad? Should we go to a healer?” You insisted, your worries increasing every second.
He let out a broken sob.
Broken-hearted you tried to hug him but he quickly stood up. “I have to go. I’ll c-call you later, okay?” 
“What? Taeyong, wait–” 
“I’ll ask Jaemin to heal me,” he said, trying to hold back his sniffles. 
“I’ll go with–”
“No, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “You’ll make it worse.”
“...I will make it worse?” you asked in a whisper.
“I–,” he let out a shaky sigh. “No, baby, I don’t mean it like that.”
You didn’t reply. What were you supposed to say after being told your presence would make your boyfriend feel worse?
His face told you he wasn’t happy with the way he had worded it either. He knew he had hurt you and he wanted nothing more but to comfort you, hug you, and kiss you stupid, but he needed to get away from you before his wolf took over.
“You did nothing wrong, my love,” he assured you. His words were gentle, but his body language was so distant. “I just need to be alone, right now, okay?”
You nodded. What else could you do?
And then you were left alone.
“You’re back already–Holy shit, hyung, are you okay?!” Xiaojun jumped out of the couch where he had been hanging out with Hendery when he saw his leader. 
“Fine,” Taeyong mumbled. 
“You’re bleeding!” Hendery yelled. 
“I just need–”
“TEN HYUNG!” Xiaojun screamed.
Ten came down the stairs running and gasped when he saw Taeyong’s hand covered in blood. “What happened to you?!”
“I need you to lock me up,” Taeyong mumbled tiredly.
“You need medical attention,” Ten replied, trying to pull him back to the door to take him to the hospital.
“There’s no time,” Taeyong groaned.
“Time for what?” Ten asked, but then he noticed the way his leader’s eye color kept changing and that the skin he had touched was burning up. “Wha—AGAIN?! You just got out of rut two weeks ago!”
“Lock me up,” the oldest repeated weakly, leaning against his pack member for support.
“Fuck,” Ten hissed, gesturing for the others to help him carry him up the stairs. “There’s no way this is healthy.”
“Hmm…” was the leader’s absentminded response before losing consciousness. 
If you had known what was happening, you would have just gone to sleep instead of waiting for the call that he said would come. He didn’t call you and he wasn’t responding to your texts
After two days you decided to look for answers somewhere else and visited Taeil’s cafe.
He received you with a warm smile, as usual. But you could sense some awkwardness when he asked that many trivial questions (even talking about the weather), as if he wanted to talk about anything but Taeyong.
“I wanted to ask you something,” you finally said.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he still gestured for you to go on. He knew he couldn’t avoid the topic forever.
“Have you seen Taeyong?”
“I have,” he said curtly.
“He’s not answering my calls. I didn’t think he would be the type to ghost someone, but here we are,” you laughed awkwardly.
Taeil let out a heavy sigh.
“He’s not ghosting you.”
“Yes, he is,” you said bitterly. “If he wanted to break up he could have just said so.”
“Y/N, I promise you he wants to be with you,” Taeil insisted.
“Then why is he ignoring me?”
“He’s in rut…”
“…Again?!”
He nodded. “Again.”
“This is happening way too often.”
“I know.”
“What about his suppressants?”
“They don’t work anymore.”
“There has to be something we can do!”
Taeil groaned. “We can’t force him.”
“Force him to what?”
“Just…ask him, okay?”
“When?! He’s always in rut and  disappearing!”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know this must be hard for you, but trust me, it’s hard for him too. He’s trying his best to be a good boyfriend for you.”
Part of you knew he was right. Even if it felt like he was ghosting you, deep down you knew that was not Taeyong. You agreed to wait until his rut was over and he contacted you, but you felt so lonely without a single text from him.
One day you thought you heard a noise outside so you ran out of the house, thinking Taeyong had came back, but there was no one there. The only thing that was new was an empty plate a few meters from you; the plate that Soobin had taken the day you met him. 
“Soobin?” you called nervously.
 You may still be a bit wary of him, but your editor still wanted you to write that book about faes. You had been researching at the local library and asking your boyfriend questions about the mysterious creatures but you knew that talking to one directly would be better.  The sun was still shining so talking to Soobin should be safe, right?
“Good afternoon, Y/N,” the fae’s calm voice replied as he came out from behind the tree where he was hiding. 
“I’m glad you’re back,” you said, trying not to show the fear in your voice.
“Are you, really?”  he asked.
“Of course.”
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Well, I’m a little scared,” you admitted. “But I’m still glad. I wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s interesting,” he purred, walking towards you and stopping right before the protection circle–which now was very visible to the human eye thanks to your boyfriend’s efforts– started. “I love a good conversation. What is it you want to talk about?”
“I’m a writer,” you said, sitting on the other side of the line that drew the circle. “I’m writing about faes and I was hoping to ask you some questions.”
“Ask,” he encouraged you, placing his elbows on his crossed legs and leaning forward, with his face resting on his hands. 
You gulped, deciding to go straight to the point. “Do you hunt humans?”
He smiled in a way that would have been sweet in a different setting but now was giving you chills, and not in a good way. “I do.”
“Why?”
“For different reasons. It depends on the human,” he shrugged.
“Do you…,” you shifted uncomfortably. “Do you eat them?”
He laughed out loud. It was the first time you saw him express himself so openly. “Your kind is not as nutritious as you think you are. Not with all that coffee and fat that you consume.”
You gasped, a bit offended. “Are you calling me fat?!”
He laughed harder. “Are you offended I don’t want to eat you?”
“N-no, but…”
“We did eat humans in the past. But we know better now. Eating you won’t bring me any benefit.”
You sighed in relief. “Then what were you planning to do to me? The day you took me out of the protection circle…”
He tilted his head. “I was not going to eat you…but I wanted a taste.”
“A t-taste?” you repeated.
“Mhm…You carry a very sweet smell. I was wondering if you taste like you smell.” 
You didn’t want to be dirty-minded. He probably didn’t mean it like that.
“Y-you mean in a cannibal type of way or—”
“A sexual way,” he deadpanned. 
“O-oh…” you mumbled awkwardly. “So uh…faes do s-stuff like that with other species?” 
“Not often. I haven’t fucked a human in centuries,” the way he stressed the word fuck made you blush. You knew that faes preferred to speak eloquently, but he had deliberately chosen a word used by humans.
“Isn’t it better to do those things with y-your kind?” you asked.
“You see, faes can gain vitality from emotions we elicit from others.  And, compared to faes, humans are so, so deliciously sensitive, meaning your emotions would be more intense than those I could possibly get from one of my own kind,” he said, eyeing you up. “If I feed on your pleasure I’m sure I’ll become even stronger.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Aren’t there other ways to be stronger?”
“There are,” he conceded. “But don’t you think this way is more fun for both of us?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline,” you said firmly. “I’m seeing someone.”
He looked at you dumbfounded for a second, expecting an explanation as to why that was relevant and then his eyes widened. “Ooh…are humans still monogamous?” 
“Uh…I am,” you replied.
“How disappointing,” he sighed. “Is it alpha?”
“Yeah…” 
“Hm…Congratulations…”
“Thanks…”
“You don’t sound that excited,” he teased. 
“I’m just a little tired,” you lied. “But thanks for answering my questions today. You were very helpful,” you said, reaching for the empty plate Soobin had left on the grass, when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist firmly.
You froze.
How could he touch you when you were still inside the circle?!
Oh shit.
The plate was outside of the circle.
And now so was your hand.
“Not so fast,” he warned you. “What do I get in return for all that valuable information?”
You had been fooled by the fae once again. How could you be so careless?
“Soobin, please,” you pleaded. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” he asked, tugging your wrist towards him playfully and almost making you lose your balance and exit the circle. 
“Please, there has to be something else I can give you,” you bargained desperately. 
He chuckled and finally let you go, making you fall on your butt. “Y/N, the sun hasn’t set yet. I can’t do anything to you. I was just playing.”
“That wasn’t funny!” you fumed. 
“But I would still like to propose a deal,” he said casually.
“Forget it,” you said, standing up, ready to go back inside the house. 
“Don’t you have an entire book to write about me?” he asked.
You looked at him suspiciously. 
“I can provide all the information you need,” he continued. “For a price.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” you snapped at him.
“As delectable as that would be, that’s not the only way you can pay me. During this conversation, I absorbed a variety of emotions coming from you. They may not be as powerful as pleasure, but they satisfy me for now.”
“You were feeding on me the entire time?!” you accused him incredulously.
He shrugged. “Isn’t it convenient? I give you what you want, and you pay me back without even noticing.”
Well, he had a point. He wasn’t even hurting you. All you had to do was your job and he would take what he needs without disturbing you.
“Deal,” you said. “Come back tomorrow at the same time. No funny business.”
He smiled and gave you a short nod before you walked into the house.
“If alpha doesn’t satisfy you, the offer still stands!” you heard him say before you slammed the door shut.
True to his word, Soobin showed up the next day and the day after that. Separated by the protection circle, you had long conversations in which he answered your questions regarding faes while sneakily asking about your life. You often prepared tea and snacks for him, and while he enjoyed some of them, he did not hesitate to let you know when something wasn’t tasty. So far, the snacks he liked the most were whichever you prepared using fresh fruit, so it wasn’t surprising to find a handmade basket full of fresh berries on the spot where he usually sat. He said it was a gift, but you knew it was his way of asking you to bake something for him. 
You were kneading dough when Taeyong showed up at your place, looking exhausted. He kissed your forehead and hugged you softly, apologising a thousand times.
“I’m so sorry for leaving like that,” he whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going into rut?” you asked him, hugging him back. You weren’t accusing him of anything, but you needed to understand him.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Of course I worry! How many times has it been since we started dating?”
“I got it under control, Y/N. My pack knows how to keep me locked away.”
“Baby, you shouldn’t have to...”
“I have no choice, love.”
“You have me,” you reminded him.
He gulped, pulling away from the hug. “I would never force this on you–”
“You’re not forcing me. I’m offering.”
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he warned.
“I do!” you said. “Your wolf should calm down after you claim me–”
Taeyong groaned, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t say stuff like that…”
“Taeyong, I can take it,” you insisted. “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started dating. I want to do this with you–”
“No,” he said harshly.
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous, Y/N.”
“I trust you–”
“I don’t trust myself!” he confessed. “I’m not myself when in rut. An alpha wanting to mate is not someone you can reason with. I wouldn’t stop even if you begged. Don’t you understand?! I’m not human!”
You looked at him with wide eyes. He had always been human to you–an equal. You couldn’t understand his fear, but it was obviously something that tormented him. 
“I don’t wanna argue, Y/N,” he said weakly. “I missed you so much…Can we not talk about this right now?”
You nodded, leading him to the sofa, where you lay down in each other’s arms in silence until he fell asleep. He probably didn’t sleep well the past week; he looked tired and thinner than before. That was the last bit of physical contact you had with your boyfriend; after that, he avoided every touch. It was torture, but he knew if he touched you he would kiss you like he was dying to, and then another rut would probably be triggered, which meant he would have to be away from you again. 
You tried to be understanding, even if it hurt to see him pull away like he was repelled by you. At least his words were still very loving and assuring, but you missed his touch.
Soobin noticed you sulking during one of your scheduled interviews. 
“You’re not even listening,” he said suddenly.
“I’m sorry!” you said quickly, snapping out of it. “I was thinking about something else. 
“That’s annoying,” he sighed. “Humans normally can’t think of anything else when in the presence of a fae.”
“I guess I got used to your presence by now,” you shrugged. 
He glared at you. He was in a bad mood because he couldn’t feed on your emotions unless he was the one causing them. Right now you were sad, but it was because of someone else so he didn’t get to absorb it. He had you right in front of him and he couldn’t get anything from you.
Unless…
“I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t been marked,” he said casually, looking at your neck. “Did alpha find another partner?”
You scoffed. “Our relationship is going well, thank you for asking.”
‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘Anger.’ He would take what he could get.
“It’s strange,” he continued. “Normally werewolves claim their partners as soon as they can.”
“He wants to take things slow,” you defended him.
“Hm… I guess he doesn’t need to mark you to please you,” he conceded.
You bit your lip an that told him all he needed to know.
“Oh? Alpha rejected sex with you?” he asked in a condescendent tone.
“I told you we’re taking it slow…”
“You’re telling me one of the most libidinous creatures–a half animal– refuses to copulate?”
Your face was red because of shame and anger. “Don’t talk about him like he’s just some animal.”
“I’m not looking down on him, Y/N. I genuinely find it unbelievable. I don’t see why he would hurt himself like that.”
That caught your attention, and your anger switched to worry. “Hurt himself?”
Soobin nodded. “If he imprinted on you, denying himself the pleasure of having you should hurt him physically. He shouldn’t be able to control himself.”
“Are you saying I’m not his real mate?” you asked in a small voice.
He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he shook his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m certain he imprinted on you. There has to be another reason why he rejects your body.”
“Like what?” you asked urgently. All your anger was long forgotten. Now you wanted answers.
The fae licked his lips. “I can’t think of a reason not to want to fuck you, Y/N. I’m still hoping you  accidentally step out of the circle at night.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up, Soobin.”
“But…” he said tentatively.
“But?” you repeated.
“If it hurts him not to have sex, and he still chooses not to, it could be that maybe…”
“Maybe what?!”
“...He’s not attracted to you.”
Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t even considered that possibility. You knew werewolves imprinted for life and that they would be loyal to their partner no matter what, but now that you thought about it, they couldn’t choose who they imprinted on. What if you were not his type but he was stuck with you? What if he was trying his best to be a good mate, but he genuinely did not want to sleep with you?
“...You think he’s not attracted to me?” you repeated.
“No. I’m saying that could be a possible reason for someone not to want to lie with their partner.”
You nodded. It was only a possibility. It wasn’t necessarily true, right?
But the more you thought about it the more it made sense. What if the reason he pulled away every time wasn’t to protect you, but because you disgusted him?
Seeing you like that, Soobin felt guilty. He wanted to make you feel something and feed on it, yes, but maybe he had taken it a bit too far. ”I’m sorry, please forget what I said”
“Okay,” you said absentmindedly, picking on the blueberries he had brought you today. 
He grabbed your hand, which once again had incautiously crossed the shield around the house. This time you were too sad to be scared.
“You’re attractive, Y/N.”.
“Thanks…,” your emotionless voice replied.
“I mean it.”
“Right,” you said, not believing him and attempting to stand up.
“Wait!,” was the last thing he said before he hastily pulled your hand and took your entire body out of the protection circle. 
You landed on top of him, spilling the berries all over the grass, and just when you were about to demand an explanation you heard a hoarse familiar voice.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Taeyong commanded. His tone was scarily calm. 
You quickly stood up and so did Soobin.
“Taeyong–” 
“Get back into the circle, Y/N,” he demanded, making his way towards Soobin.
“We were just talking,” you insist but your boyfriend had already grabbed the fae by his necklaces and pulled him closer threateningly. 
“Didn’t seem like it,” he growled, staring down at Soobin’s calm expression. He had arrived right in time to see the fae pull you towards him and his blood was boiling.
“Let him go!” you pleaded, trying to separate them. 
“Get the fuck back inside the circle!” he yelled at you. “Don’t you see how dark it is already?!”
You finally noticed that it was indeed late. You had been talking for so long that you didn’t pay attention to the sunset and the fact that it was the time for faes to hunt.
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you insisted.
“You don’t know that,” Taeyong disagreed.
“Soobin, tell him!” you begged the fae, who had been quiet the entire time.
“I do not intend to cause her pain,” Soobin finally said, causing Taeyong’s hold to loosen up a bit as he knew faes did not tell lies. “But my intentions are not pure either.”
You opened and closed your mouth dumbly. Did he have a death wish?! Why would he admit that?
“...What do you mean?” Taeyong hissed.
Soobin’s lips twisted into a lazy smile. “You know exactly what I mean, alpha.”
The werewolf lost it, and slammed the fae against a tree. Soobin didn’t even try to defend himself, nor did he show any sign of pain. He just stared at the furious man back.
“NO! STOP!” you yelled. 
“I don’t want you anywhere near her again,” Taeyong grunted. “Do you understand?”
“But she has a book to write,” Soobin replied arrogantly. 
“TAEYONG!” you screamed, hugging your boyfriend from behind before he had the chance to throw a punch. “Baby, please, let him go. Please.”
Taeyong glared at the Soobin furiously. He was nowhere near done, but he could feel your arms shaking around him. He would not be the cause for your distress. Hesitantly, he let go of Soobin. “Get lost.”
Soobin wasn’t done either, but because of how scared you were, he decided to stop for now. Without another word he walked away. 
For a minute, you and Taeyong stood where they were in silence until he sighed and grabbed your arm, walking back into the safety of the protection spell. You were about to enter tne house when he stopped.
“It’s not the first time, is it?” he asked seriously. “I could smell him on you before, but I thought I was imagining things.”
“He comes here often,” you admitted, feeling Taeyong’s grip on your arm tighten. “But we are always separated by the spell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you?”
“He’s not bothering me,” you mumbled. 
Taeyong looked confused…and nervous. “So you were willingly spending time with the fae prince?”
You shrugged awkwardly. “He’s been helping me with my book.”
“Faes don’t do anything for free,” he said apprehensively. “You know that, right?”
“I do…”
“...Whad did he want in return?” 
Now he was alarmed. What had Soobin done to you?!
“He’s been feeding on my emotions,” you admitted. It sounded more intimate and shameful now that you had said it out loud.
“...What?! Y/N why–...what were you thinking?!”
“Taeyong, he didn’t hurt me. Other thatn that, all he did was talk to me and bring me fruit,” you groaned, tiredly.
He stared at you in disbelief. “…All those baskets of fruit in the kitchen are his doing?!”
“What, you think it’s poisoned or something?” You asked sarcastically.
“Fruit has a sexual innuendo for faes,” Taeyong deadpanned. “They exchange them and eat them together during the courting stage.”
Your jaw dropped and your confidence left your body. 
“He left out that detail, huh?” Your boyfriend asked rhetorically.
“I…I told him I wasn’t interested,” you said.
“Yet you accepted his courting gifts and let him absorb your emotional energy.”
“Are you jealous?” You scoffed for a lack of a better comeback.
“Yes! Jealous and furious at your naivety!”
“I know what I’m doing, okay?” you said defensively.
“No, you have no idea what you’ve been doing ever since you came to this town!” he exclaimed. “You came to live into the forest having no magical abilities, without even knowing about protection spells, let a fae court you without telling me, and even let him feed on you like it’s no big deal?!”
“Would you have preferred I fucked him as payment?!” you blurted out. 
Taeyong’s eyes widened.
Oh no.
“That’s what he originally asked from you, huh?” Taeyong scoffed. 
“It’s fine, I rejected him–”
“It’s not fine, Y/N, what the fuck?! He could have taken you regardless!”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t know him!” he roared. “You don’t know how men think! I could smell his desire for you, Y/N, goddammit!”
“Good to know someone desires me…,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes and trying to walk past him and into the house, but he pulled you back towards him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. 
“At least he’s not disgusted by me.” 
“What are you even talking about?!” he growled, starting to lose his patience.
“Oh, please! It’s obvious! You’re not attracted to me, Taeyong!”
Taeyong shook his head and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?!”
“You hate it when I touch you. You pull away when I kiss you. Honestly, Taeyong, why are we even together?”
“You can’t be serious right now,” he chuckled bitterly. “All this because I haven’t dicked you down?”
“Fuck you,” you said, ready to end the discussion and get into the damn house but once again he yanked you back, this time kissing you forcefully.
You wished you had the will to push him away, or at least to remember you were mad at him, but his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and it had been so long you couldn’t even try to resist him. You let him take the lead, moaning at the way he basically fucked your mouth with his tongue while his hands travelled up and down your body. 
You gasped when he pulled up your shirt swiftly and the cold breeze caressed your stomach. It reminded you you still hadn’t gone into the house.
“B-baby, shouldn’t we go inside?” you asked.
“Why?” he asked nonchalantly before pulling the shirt even higher, along with your bra. “Like you weren’t about to let the fae prince take you against a tree,” he said sharply and attached his mouth to one of your nipples.
You moaned and threw your head back. “I-I wasn’t going to–”
“I would have killed him,” he said between wet kisses placed on your chest, licking up to your neck. “I would have started a damn war and put the entire town in danger. But you don’t care about that, do you? You just wanted sex.”
“W-with you only–Ah!” you gasped when one of his hands slid inside your pants, cupping your center and patting it roughly.
“I’ll give it to you. Again and again,” he promised, nibbling on your ear. “But don’t say later I didn’t warn you.”
All of a sudden he turned you around so you were facing the forest and he was standing behind you. He held you in place by circling your waist with one hand while the other found its way into your underwear making you squirm nervously. 
“Oh! B-baby, wait–” you wanted to convince him that it was scandalous for him to finger you in such a compromising position where the whole forest could see. “The faes–Oooh!”
“I know, my love. I see them,” Taeyong chuckled by your ear, easing a finger into your entrance. 
“F-fuck!” you moaned. Unlinke Taeyong’s your human eyes could only see some trees in the dark of the night, but it was hunting hour, so you had no doubt someone was out there. Soobin probably hadn’t gone too far. He could be watching this lewd spectacle right now. “It’s so embarrassing…Nngh!”
“Oh, Y/N, don’t be embarrassed,” he panted between messy licks on your neck. He slid a second finger inside of you and curled them in just the right angle to have your vision go blurry and your toes curl. “Soobin wanted to see you cum, so we’re going to show him, yeah?”
You shook your head, but you could feel yourself getting close to your climax. “Taey-aah…Baby I’m s-so sorry, p-please–Ah!”
“If you’re sorry you’re going to cum in my fingers for the entire forest to see,” he dared you, pumping into you faster and pressing his palm against your clit. 
“Taeyong!” you moaned, tilting your head back and resting it on his shoulder as he fingered you furiously with one hand and bounced your tits with the other.
“Come on, come on, Y/N, cum, cum, fucking cum!” he demanded darkly before sinking his fangs into your skin and pressing your G-spot harder. 
For a second you couldn’t breathe. Your body felt light and tingly and the only thing you could focus on was your boyfriend’s raspy voice as he complimented you.
“That’s my mate,” Taeyong cooed, licking the fresh mark on your neck and finally  taking his hand out of your underwear. “From now on only I can make you cum, mmkay?”
You nodded dumbly and allowed your legs to give out, landing on your knees on the grass. That had been so intense you were still coming to terms with the fact that you had had an orgasm in public and, potentially been seen by Soobin. 
More importantly, you had been marked as Taeyong’s, meaning he did want you after all.
Before you had time to celebrate you felt a sharp pain on the back of your head as Taeyong pulled your hair to make you look up. 
The first thing you saw was his massive hard cock as he jerked it slowly, and if you looked a bit higher you could see his red eyes staring back into yours. 
“Suck,” he commanded, pressing the head of his cock against your mouth. 
You didn’t hesitate. You were salivating the moment you saw it and you wanted nothing more but to have it in your mouth, completely forgetting all decorum and the fact that you were still pretty much out in the open. You parted your lips and licked the precum leaking from his tip, making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.
“I said suck, not lick,” he grunted, pushing the tip past your lips and shuddering at the warmth. “Mmm…yes.”
You sucked on the tip enthusiastically, hollowing your cheeks occasionally to hear him curse, and then taking him deeper…or at least trying to, because even though you had heard about an alpha’s size, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.
He was barely half way in when you gagged around the tip and a loud moan escaped him. “Ooooh…Oh, Y/N, fuck…”
You tried to get used to the feeling, but he wasn’t feeling patient today so he used his grip on your hair to angle your head in a position to fuck into your mouth comfortably, making you gag again.
“Come on, love, relax your throat,” he instructed, thrusting faster and trying to go deeper, but his size was too much for you. “What was The Moon thinking? Giving an alpha such a delicate human to breed? How will you t-take my knot?” he asked teasingly, but his words caused damage to himself, making his cock twitch at the thought of fucking you somewhere thighter and more wet than your mouth.
You moaned around him, struggling to breath as he kept assaulting your mouth. Luckily he took his member out, allowing you to gasp, desperate for air. 
“Almost there, love,” he grunted, using his cock to slap your cheek. “Open up,” he urged, now slapping your tongue, before he placed both his hands on the back of your head and thrusted into your mouth with full force on more time, rolling his eyes back at the pleasurable feeling of you moaning and gagging around him while his cum filled your throath. “F-fuuuck…,” he breathed out, moving your head harshly from side to side for a little extra stimulation like you were nothing but a toy.
When you thought you would pass out he released you, making you cough loudly and take desperate breaths. 
Once you calmed down, Taeyong kneeled down in front of you and kissed your forehead, which was a crazy contrast to his previous behavior, before he took you in his arms and lifted you up.
“Show’s over,” he said, looking into the dark forest. You still couldn’t see anything, but it was obvious who Taeyong was talking to. “She’s taken,” he added before (finally) carrying you inside.
It finally hit you that he wasn’t finished when you found yourself landing on your bed on your back, with your legs hanging off the side. Taeyong climbed on top of you and looked at you as he caressed your hair. His gentle touch showed you that your sweet boyfriend was still there, even if he wasn’t the one in control of his actions.
He leaned in and licked a string of cum from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, before kissing you. “Don’t say I’m not attracted to you,” he said. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but his tone was serious. “Ever.”
“I’m sorry,” you croaked and coughed a little, your throat still sore.
He nodded, now looking at the trail his fingers were drawing, from the mark on your neck to your still uncovered breasts, and going down your stomach. He then got off the bed and in the blink of an eye he ripped off your pants and panties.
“Tae–” you called his name questioningly, sitting up, but he gently pushed you back on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. 
He kissed your inner tigh slowly, nibbling on it occasionally as he got closer to your center.
“Oh god,” you whispered when blew on your clit before looking into your eyes, sticking his tongue out and immediately flattening it against you. “Ooh! B-baby…ah…”
He moved his head in small circles, slowly, moaning at your taste. Then he licked his way down to your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds and thrust his tongue inside.
Your back arched and you screamed at the intrusion, and he loved to hear you losing your cool like that, so he pressed his head harder against you, licking and drinking as much of you as he could while his nose teased your clit just enough to drive you insane. Your hands landed on his head, pushing him harder against you and he moaned appreciatively and sliding a digit in along with his tongue.
“Taeyong oh–...Oh my g-god,” you gasped, feeling yourself getting close for the second time.
He knew exactly what to do. He attached his mouth to your clit and sucked on it slowly, but thrusted another finger into you at a faster pace. The contrast was delightful and your body tensed, finally releasing as his tongue circled your clit languidly.
Satisfied, he parted from you, taking his fingers into his mouth to suck on them wantonly. “Mm…Y/N, that was heavenly,” he purred.
You were still registering his words and the tingling feeling in your body when you felt something hot and hard rubbing your pussy. It was finally happening; Taeyong had taken off his pants and underwear and was standing between your legs guiding his cock into you. His size was intimidating, but more than scared, you were eager.
“B-baby,” you gasped at the intrusion.
“Mm?” he hummed, focused on the way your walls squeezed him.
“Take me,” you pleaded and winced when he thrusted more of him inside.
“Y-yeah…” he agreed pushing a bit harder and groaning when he couldn’t get any deeper. “Fuck, Y/N, so tight…” 
He held your ankles against his shoulders, pulled out until only the tip remained inside and then rammed back into you, letting out a shaky breath. “This is…oooh…this is all y-your tiny cunt can t-take…f-fuck,” he grunted building up a steady pace even if he coldn’t fit completely inside.
“Ah–ah, ooh…,” you whimpered, gripping the sheets for support. The pain was being replaced by a pleasant tickle in your lower abdomen, and his breathy moans only made everything a thousand times more erotic.
“N-need to–....,” he licked his lips and pushed your legs towards your body, folding you. “Go deeper…”
“Can’t b-baby, sorry–OOH!!” You moaned in surprise when he climbed on the bed, one foot planted on each side of your body, and he pressed your legs all the way to your chest, and pounded into you using his whole weight. He indeed went deeper than before.
“We c-can,” he mumbled like he was entranced. “We ca–aaah!” he insisted, bouncing on top of you to fuck into you deeper with each thrust. “S-see, my l-love? Your pussy is w-welcoming me, squeezing me s-so good…” he added deliriously. 
Your eyes rolled back when he doubled up the pace. His balls slapped against your ass and he grunted each time he felt himself get a centimeter deeper inside of you. One of your hands travelled down your body to pinch your clit and you tightened around him, making him cum with a throaty groan.
He closed his eyes and filled your cunt with his load with relish. The first of many times to come.
“Haa…Y/N…my mate…,” he breathed out, slowly opening his eyes to look at you with adoration. 
He pulled out slowly, and got off the bed to once again stand between your legs, which he held open to admire the view of his cum spilling out of you.
“Taeyong…” you croaked tiredly. “B-baby, my legs hurt.”
He kissed your calf and put your legs down, but just when you thought you could catch a breath he manhandled you so were on your belly. 
“B-baby?” you asked hesitantly, trying to turn around, but a strong hand on your nape held you in place. 
“Present properly,” he growled with his thick voice.
Instinctively you knew what he meant. You placed your knees on the mattress and arched your back, lifting your lower body while keeping your chest down. 
Taeyong hummed with approval, letting go of your nape to caress your back and then knead your ass cheeks. His hands then travelled down your tighs and pushed them open, allowing his dick to tease your folds and making you clench around nothing. 
“Should have done this since the beginning,” Taeyong murmured, sliding into you slowly. “You wouldn’t have–aah….,” he gasped and his hips faltered when you pushed back to meet him midway. “Shit… you wouldn’t h-have entertained another man’s advances if I had…haa… kept you—Mmh…full…”
“You were t-too busy avoiding me–” you had the audacity to say but were quickly interrupted when he plunged into you hard enough to leave you breathless.
“You have a lot of nerve for someone who c-can’t even…haaa… take me all the way in,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “My bad,” he sneered. “I treated you like a queen when you wanted to be fucked like a whore.”
“You’re so petty when you’re jea– Fuck!” you whined when he positioned one feet on the bed and curled his body over yours, quickening his thrusts.
“You still don’t know your place, hmm?” he muttered darkly as one of his hands drifted towards your folds. “I was too lenient with you. But that stops today,” he grunted rubbing your clit roughly. 
Your brows furrowed with pleasure and you shrieked when your orgasm hit you. Your body tensed and then fell limp on the bed, making him slide out of you, much to his disapproval. 
“We’re nowhere near done, omega,” he purred.
Your eyes snapped open. What?
“W-what did you call me?” you asked, turning around and crawling back cautioslly. 
He followed you, climbing onto the bed and landing on top of you, giving you a passionate kiss. “My omega,” he mumbled in between kisses.
“B-baby I’m,” you sighed when his kisses travelled down your jaw. “I’m not an omega…” you reminded him, caressing his hair gently.
He looked at your face, then at the mark on your neck and then back at your face. Then he laughed softly and shook his head, cupping your face. “You’re confused,” he cooed.
You were astonished. 
He was gone gone.
Is this what he meant when he said he wasn’t himself when in rut?
“Taeyong,” you called his name while he tried to take off your wrinkled shirt and bra. “What’s my name?”
He threw your clothes somewhere on the floor and went for another kiss. “Y/N,” he sighed against your lips. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, my mate, my omega…”
Okay, at least he knew who he was fucking. He was only mistaken about one detail.
““I’m human,baby,” you tried to reason. “Humans can’t be omegas.”
He took his shirt off, and positioned himself between your legs. “Nonsense. Only an omega has hips like these,” he reasoned, looking at your body, enchanted. “Perfect for breeding,” he muttered before sinking into you in one go.
“Oooh! Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whined, arching your back.
“And these tits,” he uttered, leaning down to burry his face between them, kissing, licking, biting. “Perfect to feed our pups.”
You let out soft moans and gave up on trying to reason with him. He was in rut and to be honest, it was turning you even more how pussy drunk he was.
“All you have to do is let me in,” he growled, pushing his hips onto yours harder, still trying to fit it all inside.
“G-god, shit–Aaaah!” you squirmed in his arms.
He sit up and held your hips in a strong grip to start fucking you with intent. He was sweating and grunting, tensing his muscles every time he pushed into you, trying to reach deeper. “Accept me, omega,” he moaned. “Be good.”
“I’m t-trying, baby I– fuck, I d-don’t think it’s possi–Aaaah!!” you screamed when thrusted hard, finally burying his cock into you completely. Your legs shook and you threw your head back, completely caught off guard by an intense orgasm. “T-taeyong—Tae, fuck!”
Taeyong’s jaw had dropped. He himself was shocked at how deliciously good it felt to be one with you. He laughed breathlessly and gave you an open-mouthed kiss, which you barely responded to, as you still hadn’t completely came down from your high.
“See? Y-youre my perfect little omega,” he breathed out, pulling out and fucking back into you, satisfied with the depth of his thrusts. “F-fuh…fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing,” you heard him say when you got back to your senses.
You couldn’t believe this was your sweet, shy boyfriend. His moans were loud and shameless, his words were highly indecorous, his movements were precise but harsh, his body was covered in tattoos you didn’t even know he had, his teeth were displayed in a content smile that seemed sinful with the sounds that came out from his mouth, and his pupils were so dilated you couldn’t even see the red in his eyes.
 Then you looked down and saw a slight bump forming in your tummy along with his thrusts. 
“Oh g-god…Baby y-you’re in my stomach…” you sobbed, making him groan appreciatively.
“Ooohh fuck, yeah,” he hissed, using one of his hands to press down on your lower abdomen and making you whine. “Yes, love, yes, yes,” he murmured.
“S-so big,” you whimpered
“All y-yours, my love,” he cooed, pressing his pelvic bone against your core and rotating his hips.
You  tossed and turned desperately, the stimulation becoming too much for your spent body, and then everything turned black. You coun’t see anything, your ears were ringing and your heart rate slowed. You felt weightless and then came nothing. 
You don’t know how long you were gone, but when you woke up Taeyong looked absolutely deranged, fucking into you fast enough to have the bed shaking and panting like a dog in heat. When you made eye contact he shivered, cumming inside of you with a guttural moan, but he didn’t stop. He winced and kept going like his life depended on it.
He had warned you.
He told you he wouldn’t be able to stop.
You knew there was only one way to calm him down. 
“Oh, baby,” you called for him. “My baby needs t-to knot me?”
He nodded quickly panting, looking at your belly, dazed. “Pups,” was the only coherent word he could say and even that was probably hard to pronounce in such a lust-induced state.
“W-wanna give me your pups?” you taunted, pulling him impossibly closer by circling his waist with your legs. “Make me a mommy?”
He groaned animalistically, snapping his hips hard.
You heard a loud crack. 
And then, before you could comprehend what had happened, the room moved slightly and you felt yourself fall along with Taeyong, and the mattress.
 One of the bed legs bent–or broke, you had no idea–and now you were lying on a slightly bent mattress on the floor with your boyfriend still humping you.
“B-baby—we broke the–Oh!” you tried to speak, but Taeyong couldn’t care less. He was so close and it felt so good he went even harder and faster.
“Haa…,” he panted, furrowing his brows. “Aah–ah haa my–...my omega.”
“Y-yeah,” you nodded, not trying to correct him anymore. “I’m yours, baby–ah! Ah! Oh–AH!”
His eyes rolled back until only the white part was visible, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as a lewd expression of pure bliss when his knot finally started forming.
“Yeess, baby, g-give it to…aaah! Give it to m-me, come on,” you urged him, using one of your hands to rub your clit.
 Heavy pants were the only thing coming from his mouth. He forced his knot into your entrance and let out a high-pitched moan, cumming so hard he felt dizzy. 
You tossed your head back, stroking your clit faster until you came one more time. This orgasm was not as intense as the others, but Taeyong’s constant spurts of cum inside of you made it feel just as satisfying. 
“Pups,” he repeated, sighing shakily and caressing your stomach and whimpering when his cock twitched and released another string of cum. “T-take my pups…,” he said, finally collapsing on top of you.
“Holy shit, Taeyong,” you breathed out, weakly lifting one of your hands to play with his hair. “You weren’t joking about this whole rut thing.”
He hummed,  looking for your neck to lick his mark possessively.
“But I told you I could handle it–” you continued speaking before he silenced you with a kiss.
“You have no choice now, Y/N,” he said when he pulled away, finally sounding lucid. “You’ll have to endure it until the end.”
You scoffed. “I just did.”
He raised his brows. “You think it’s over?”
“Well, it looks like you’re back to normal now, so…yeah?” 
He stared at you in silence and then sighed.
“Y/N…my ruts last a week,” he said slowly. 
“A week?!” you repeated in disbelief.
“Mhm,” he confirmed. “I gain some clarity back after cumming a few times, but that will probably last about 20 minutes before I’m fucking you again.”
Your eyes widened at the discovery of this information and he tried his best not to laugh.
“But like you said, you can take it, right?” 
1K notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 9 months ago
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)
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Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!
Masterlist | Part I | Next Part
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The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 
She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.
Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”
Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.
The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.
“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.
“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”
The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.
“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”
“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.
Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.
“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”
Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”
Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”
Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”
It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.
And she’ll take it. 
“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”
Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”
Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.
“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.
That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.
“What’s your plan then?”
“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.
“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”
“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”
Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 
“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.
“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”
“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.
“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.
Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.
-
Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.
Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”
Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.
Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”
Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”
“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.
There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.
“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.
“Nope.”
“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.
“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.
“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”
“If you say so.”
Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  
“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”
“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.
“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 
“Ask away,” Leigh prods.
Jules takes a deep breath, and then:
“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”
Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?
Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.
Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”
“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”
Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”
“Dog lady? Really?”
“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”
Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”
Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”
Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.
“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.
Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”
-
The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.
As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.
He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.
The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.
She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.
Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 
Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?
She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.
She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 
When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 
Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.
By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.
The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.
Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—
It’s Matt. 
Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 
But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.
She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.
Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.
“Leigh?”
The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.
Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.
So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.
“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.
Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 
She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.
“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.
“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 
Why what?
“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.
You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.
Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.
“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.
Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”
Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 
The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.
But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 
You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.
-
Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.
For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.
-
Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.
With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.
“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 
“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.
You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”
Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 
“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”
You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.
But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.
Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”
Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.
“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.
“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”
The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.
A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 
You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.
Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.
“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 
Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.
She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.
Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”
It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.
“I—”
“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.
“You’ve been here before?”
It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.
“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.
You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”
While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”
You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”
Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”
“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.
Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”
Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”
“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.
You nod sheepishly in reply. 
“Or we could maybe—”
“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.
“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”
True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 
But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.
Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”
“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”
Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.
“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.
Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.
“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”
That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”
Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.
Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.
“Jules, I’m sorr—”
“Just save it, Leigh.”
Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.
But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.
Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.
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marsbutterfly · 4 months ago
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Need domestic Hanji x reader type sht. Does reader cut hanji’s hair??? Does Hanji bring home every stray?? Hanji never gave a crap about interior decorating until Y/N??? Slay??
Headcanons: Domestic Life With Hanji Zoe
a/n: i love them, your honor. i want to give them the entire world and stars and everything else this universe has to offer and then some more.
warnings: none, just fluff. you know the drill: not beta read, we die like men ♡
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/ hanji never really cared about the way that they look. Sometimes, they would wear the most atrocious outfits known to men and not brush their hair for days. It wasn't until they met you that they decided to put in the effort to look their best.
/ though, they never really got the hang on how to do their hair. eventually, they just let it grow. it was nearly down to their hips and it became too hard to manage when they sheepishly ask you to cut it for them.
/ by the blush on their face and a couple of tears in their eyes, you could tell that this whole thing was just too overwhelming for them and a sensory overload. your heart was aching so badly from seeing them in such a state, you didn't even hesitate.
/ so, at 3am, you grabbed a pair of scissors and began snipping away. one inch turned to two, turned to three... turned to eleven. by the time you were done and looked down at the ground, a wave of fear washing over you as you pull away.
/ your fingers shake their hair, making sure there aren't any uneven strands and that all the loose hair would fall from their head. the first thing they say when you are done? "wow, my head feels so much lighter."
/ they look at themselves in the mirror and fall silent. you can feel the pit in your stomach forming, your breath begins to tremble as you look at them, helplessly preparing to mumble a long apology. that is until they turn around, arms wrapping around you, "I LOVE IT!!!!"
/ after that, you start trimming their hair every so often, just to make sure it would always be at this manageable length. and even then you started learning new styles, buying small clips and headbands, anything to make them look even more adorable than they already are.
/ hanji is a very hard person to wake up. opening the blinds, countless alarms, pulling the covers, not even water will work. but do you wanna know what will? the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the promise of kisses.
/ "haaaaanjiiiii" you call out every morning and, immediately, you can hear rushed footsteps coming down the stairs, their feet tripping over one another as they desperately throw on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
/ they drink their coffee black with AT LEAST four spoons full of sugar. do they eat in the morning? a piece of toast and then they go about their day, not drinking a single sip of water until you DEMAND that they do. they only agree because the energy drink is making their kidneys hurt, which is why you have so many variations of cranberry juice: crangrape, cranapple, just plain cranberry.
/ they don't like going to the grocery store. it's too crowded, too loud and too bright. so you are used to doing the shopping by yourself most of time, but sometimes, every so often, hanji finds themselves feeling a bit too clingy to let you go by yourself.
/ so you offer to hold their hand the entire time. and you have to keep the promise, otherwise you'll find them a sobbing mess, like a lost child almost. usually, when you get to the store, you can see how much the environment is already affecting them, so you wrap your arm around theirs as the two of you work together to push the cart.
/ when you need something from a tall shelf, hanji will hold your hand with one hand and reach up with the other. they are relatively tall so it doesn't take much but their hand must be touching yours at all times.
/ you will often try to make up fun games, like "who can pick out the most veggies in a minute?" or "how many cans can you stack in the cart before they fall" or "$1 dvd hunt and snack baskets." silly things to take hanji's mind away from the anxiety and it works like a charm every time, as long as your hands are still linked together.
/ it is a constant struggle having to keep hanji from bringing home every stray they find. the two of you already have two cats and a dog, but they insist on feeding every neighborhood animal, always building warm outside houses for them during the winter, leaving clean water outside for them every day.
/ one time, they tried to bring a racoon inside, pretending it was a cat and hoping you wouldn't notice. you screamed so loudly that both of them ran outside.
/ in past relationships, hanji was never allowed to decorate anything, or even leave a single toothbrush at their ex's house. so when you asked about colors for the walls and the curtains, they were a little shocked, maybe even a little scared.
/ at first, they try to go along with things you like or what they think you might choose if it was up to you. they do it until you get annoyed and give them only options they might like. it turns them into a blushing mess when they realize but the simple knowledge that you are so determined to make them know that this is your home TOGETHER makes them even more sure that you are the one.
/ hanji is a heavy sleeper but they roll around in bed so much that it was actually hard for you to get asleep when the two of you first started dating. at the point where you move in together, you aren't even bothered by it anymore.
/ they have a little compartment for their glasses on their bedside table, but they never use it. instead, they just throw the pair anywhere before jumping into bed with you, their eyes fixated on you, even if they can't actually see you other than the shape of your body.
/ hanji has a massive garden in the back of your house. every time the two of you travel somewhere, they gather seeds to bring home and figure out what will grow and what won't.
/ the two of you travel a lot. when it's by car, hanji is usually the one to drive while you are the one to pack the bags and snacks for the road. you are also in charge of the songs but you make sure to choose songs both of you enjoy. unless hanji pisses you off, in that case you always choose that one band they can't stand.
/ if it's by plane, you are the one who has to wake hanji up, make sure the two of you have everything, that their passport is in their hand, that there is nothing missing, that they have medicines, chargers and everything else.
/ hanji is fascinated by planes but also scared of them. they can't quite explain why, but a simple look at it causes them to freeze in place, almost like.. it's a memory. a bad one. so you make sure to hold their hand the entire time, nuzzle your head on their shoulder and just shower them with love.
/ the two of you always cuddle. even when it's burning hot, you just ditch the covers and clothes, the need to be touching each other is much higher than anything else.
/ you and hanji are always together. and when they propose, there was no other answer you could give. it was an immediate "yes ♡"
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simstorian-blog · 3 months ago
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Residential Floorplan Suggestions
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New York City: TWO
(CC List + Links)
World Map: San Myshuno
Area: Spice Market – Waterside Warble
Lot Size:  30 x 30
Capacity:
A Dive Bar
An Internet Café
A Pizzeria
A Tattoo Parlor
Bonus: 6 residential rental units floorplans completed – not assigned
Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish
Packs Needed
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Parenthood
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Star Wars: Journey to Batuu
Strangerville
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Cozy Bistro
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billskeis · 10 months ago
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hi, can u do 2008!tom x waitress!reader at a small cute coffee shop and they just like eachother after this n stuff (the rest is what u come up with!) tyy
ᡣ𐭩 tom and his waitress
the bell attached to the door jingles as people walk in and out within the cafe. it was a quaint sunday and the twins were just out and about looking for places to kill time as they just moved for the new school year.
it was a small town where everybody knew everyone and there was basically only one high school for them to attend there. bill didn’t mind the secluded area but his brother did.
“coffee? but you don’t drink that shit..” bill asked his twin brother.
“sshshhshshshush! you—you just have to wait and see..” tom exclaimed as he left his little brother confused, following behind him.
the sweet yet bitter aroma of coffee wafted around the small establishment. it was quite cute. european style. plants decorated the interior while the furniture was mostly that of dark oak, some of the windows were stained glass and classic jazz played in the background.
and there you stood, wiping down a small table with a clean, or could be dirty towel rag that hasn’t been thrown out—but still useful for who knows how long now.
your work uniform entailed that of just a slim fitting white tee as you wore blue skinny jeans that accentuated your curves. the dark brown apron only amplifying that as it was tied oh so tight around your waist, a bow behind to finish the look off altogether.
hair laid in a neat ponytail, your fringe framing your face and jawline just right. tom couldn’t help but stare, bill attempting to look around first until he found what his brother was staring at.
and of course, it was you.
“oh.. now i see,”
“isn’t she beautiful, bill?”
“mmhm, do you know her name?”
“nope! this is my first time entering in actually, i’ve passed by this coffee shop maybe two or three times?? never had the balls to actually WALK IN unless i brought you,”
“…”
“what?”
“you’re fucking lame.”
“oh shut up—hey! what’re you doing!?” tom semi shouts at bill as the slimmer twin attempts to push tom’s somewhat burly body closer to the table you were cleaning at.
“making a move tom, since it took ya this fucking long!” bill yelled at his brother to his surprise was able to even move him an inch? had bill been working out? tom stumbled as he was now met with your table and obviously, you.
“o-oh! hello! welcome!” you smiled brightly and put on your best customer service voice as you were met with two peculiar but cute looking boys who seemed around your age.
looking and analyzing them more made you question whether the pair were a set of twins.
“i uh.. uh.. can we sit here?” the baggier clothed wearing one asked you as the latter facepalmed himself. “of course you can silly, please sit! my name is y/n, what can i get you guys to drink?” you immediately shove the rag down into one of your apron pockets and pull out a small notebook and pen, clicking it in anticipation to write what they request.
as the two analyzed the small menu engraved on the table, the black haired boy spoke “i’ll do a caffé mocha, please,” as you scribble his order down now looking at the dread haired boy.
“coca cola.” he answered.
“a huh?” you asked, hearing him well, you were just, confused.
“a coke..?”
“no—sorry—i heard you the first time it’s just, you want soda at a cafe??”
bill looked at his brother as if he was totally and utterly fucking stupid. one could say, you can hear bill exhale so hard from disappointment that the amount of air that dispelled out of him could probably blow someone away.
“well shit, ummm what do you recommend?” the boy asks eagerly as he leans his body closer to yours while sitting in the chair. excitingly waiting for your answer.
it is said that someone’s coffee order says a lot about them.
you press your pen to your chin as you held the notebook under your arm. giving it some thought, you yourself weren’t the coffee drinker but now having worked in a cafe for soo long it become a part of your personality. “hm..”
“i would have to go for a flat white!”
“flat white it is then, y/n :).”
you write down his order, clicking the pen.
“alrighty! could i get your names please?”
“tom.”
“bill.”
“okay tom and bill, give me ten minutes!”
you skip away to begin working on their drinks as tom waves you away, bill just watching him, “your ass is grass tom,”
“i don’t know what you mean,”
“you. head over heels for some girl you couldn’t even talk to!”
“aren’t you the one preaching about love at first sight though?? yeah, come talk to me when you’ve actually got that.”
“eat shit, tom.”
“get some bitches, bill.”
“aaand i’m back! i hope my two new and favourite customers haven’t been waiting too long!” you place down the mugs gently on the table as you hold the large plastic serving tray behind your back. “nono, you could’ve taken as much time as you needed,” a smile coming from tom as bill rolls his eyes quickly enough at tom that you don’t see but returns the smile.
tom brings the cup to his lips as he takes a sip of the brewed beverage. he licks his lips whereas a remnant of the foam encoated and slightly smacks them to review the flavour.
unknowingly, you were anticipating his reaction more than bills. maybe it was because of how he looked at you, with such attention. or how he was way more willing to speak to you than bill was.
your stomach felt uncomfortable with a thumpy feeling, you choose to ignore it.
“soo.. how is it?”
“amazing.. i’ve never had coffee this good in my life!”
the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach grew stronger. your cheeks also somewhat felt warmer. a beating in your chest that just would not go away.
did he see it yet?
“yay! i’m so glad :D what about you bill?”
“couldn’t have been any better,”
“well, i’ll leave you alone—i have other customers, but do let me know if you need or want anything else!”
a silence was met as you left the table where the two young boys sat. they looked at one another, knowingly. telepathically. it’s like one knew that something was wrong with the other and it didn’t even need to be spoken.
“tell the truth tom.. how was it,”
“it was fucking terrible..”
tom contorted his face in disgust as he lifted up the mug to his face once more to breathe in the smell of the coffee.
how can something that smells so good taste like shit?
he kept his disgusted face plastered on as bill giggled at his brother’s antiques. that was until you innocently made eye contact with him and smiled, to which he just begins chugging the coffee (yes, burning his throat in the process) signalling you a thumbs-up as you laugh at him.
it wasn’t that the flat white you made was bad. you were the best barista in the tiny shop, and at such a young age too! it was that no matter how much tom drank it or whatever type of coffee that tom drank.
he. fucking. hated it.
“wow, you got it bad for her huh..”
“shut up.. i need her number now. i can’t keep drinking this nasty shit.”
as tom played with the tiny spoon that he used to mix his coffee within the mug, bill’s eyed widened at the sight that sat below him on the table, slightly gasping, “tom!”
“what? what is it?” tom now looked at bill who’s smiling and holding up a piece of paper. it was the napkin that decorated the circular plate accompanied with your mug.
there on it was decorated a subtle lipgloss stained kiss along with some writing.
“call me xxx-xxx-xxx c:”
bill wiggled the napkin in front of his twin brother at tom gripped it out of his grasp quickly but softly enough to not rip or ruin the frail napkin.
“well it looks like she beat you to it.”
he looked up from the napkin to watch you interact and tend to other customers. god he wishes that were him instead of some stranger, making you smile and laugh like that. it was almost criminal at the impact you had on him.
you catch tom and bill staring at you as you work, bill obviously looking away but tom kept his gaze on you. you noticed that he held a napkin in his hand as his whole body was shifted towards your direction.
wink.
“holy sh1@!8 bill! did you see that she winked at me!!”
tom swears he can feel his heart come out his chest as he clutches the enlarged shirt from the upper middle of his torso that draped over his body.
“i didn’t, but if you really wanted let’s go pay now before she gets off cash!”
“i—i can’t bill, here take the money,” as tom shoves a $20 bill into his brother’s hand as he makes his way towards the exit, “tell her i said i had to walk georg—i mean, our dog!!”
“but..! ugghhh…”
“chickened out? was the napkin too much?” you ask bill as you cash out the money he gave you, returning the extra change by placing the coins into the palm of bill’s hand.
bill scoffs and almost laughs, “i don’t think so, i think he’s just a pussy. but he reallllyyy likes you, like, it’s insane i’ve never seen him act like this before.”
“haha.. well, you take care bill! i’ll see you at school tomorrow!” waving the twin brother away as he makes his way outside the cafe. “bye y/n!” bill had totally and completely forgotten that today was a sunday and monday was going to be their first day back in senior year.
...
wait.
“y/n goes to our school!?”
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liefst · 1 month ago
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hi! <3 i'm travelling to amsterdam for the next 3 days with my love and i'm wondering if there are any restaurants, cafes, vintage/thrift spots or cute stores (or anything else really!) you'd recommend as a local? only if you want to of course, no pressure! love your presence and your blog! have a lovely evening! :)
hi! sorry, when you sent me this ask i completely blanked and couldn't think of anything. i hope you had a lovely time in amsterdam, there's lots of cute places to see that you'll find just by walking around. hmm here's some tips i can come up with now, for possible future reference, or for someone else reading this:
thrift shop Gideon Italiaander at Beethovenstraat 1: really big, they often have really weird stuff, cheap - i've found some really special things there.
de koffieschenkerij at Oudekerksplein 27: a café located in a really old and pretty building attached to the oude kerk (old church). it's especially nice to sit outside in the shade of the trees in summer.
i love the red velvet cake at de drie graefjes. they have three locations but the one near dam square and the new church at Eggertstraat 1 is the most picturesque.
oude nieuwstraat is a very pretty and short red light street. for some reason tourists never go there.
this is just my personal interests speaking but i really love the quilt shop Petra Prins at Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 97 :)
if you like going to the cinema i can really recommend going to The Movies at Haarlemmerdijk 159 (art house cinema with an art deco interior - you could also just pop inside to have a cup of coffee) and Pathé Tuschinski at Reguliersbreestraat 26-34 (grande and absolutely stunning on both the outside and the inside, art nouveau/art deco style).
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yuujispinkhair · 2 years ago
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From Sukuna, made with love
Christmas is your favorite time of the year. You love the coziness, the warmth, the love. But unfortunately, all this feels less magical when you know you will spend Christmas Eve alone. And so you desperately try to find someone to keep you company via your dating app. But maybe the real magic of Christmas is already right in front of you, brewing your favorite coffee and baking your favorite cupcakes while wearing a far too smug smirk and complaining too loudly about the stupid Santa hat he has to wear at work.
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, Christmas AU, Coffee Shop AU Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: none, just lots of fluff, flirting and kissing. This is a non-curses AU. Sukuna is the barista from hell to some of his customers but not to you :) All characters are of age. My blog contains 18+ content. Minors don't interact.
There is now art for this story!! Thank you so much to the lovely @irideste for drawing barista!Sukuna!!
This is my contribution to my sweet friend @shirohyorin's Ficmas Calendar! Thank you so much for hosting this cute collab, Loni! I hope my story can add to the coziness you are spreading over our dash. I wish everyone a sweet December and merry Christmas if you celeberate it!
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December 1
The doorbell jingles softly as you enter your favorite coffee shop. It makes you smile because the sound reminds you of Christmas. Like Santa's sleigh with the reindeer. The smell that drifts towards you adds even more to the Christmassy feeling. The rich taste of coffee and hot chocolate laced with cinnamon and gingerbread spice.
You sigh happily. This is your little safe place, your sanctuary every morning before you start your hectic work day. And especially now, when the countdown to Christmas has begun, and the pretty Christmas decorations and lights are up, this little coffeeshop all in white is the coziest place you know.
You smile to yourself, already looking forward to a little treat before work, a gingerbread latte, and maybe a cinnamon roll. You look over at the counter, expecting to see the owner or one of the usual baristas. But you blink in surprise when your gaze lands on someone else.
A new guy.
He stands out in the white interior like a black sheep amidst its white herd. He is dressed all in black and is tall and muscular with an athletic build. His hair is pink and styled in a fashionable-looking undercut. His ears are pierced several times, and his face is adorned with filigree black tattoed lines.
He looks intimidating. Strikingly attractive but scary. And definitely very out of place in the middle of all the sparkly white and silver Christmas decorations.
The woman before you grabs her bag of cookies and leaves, giving you space to step up to the counter.
Your breath catches when a pair of pretty maroon eyes meets yours. They are framed by long black lashes and a second pair of eyes, tattoed ones, black and red. But what strikes you the most is the intensity with which those eyes look at you. As if the owner of those eyes can see right into your soul.
The corners of his eyes crinkle, and you realize that the new guy is smirking at you, looking almost infuriatingly smug, as if he knows how flustered you are by his gaze.
Even his voice is mocking you. A sexy lazy drawl that should rather be used in the bedroom than in a cozy little coffee shop at 7:00 in the morning!
"Good morning, princess. What can I get you?"
"Sukuna, you shouldn't call customers pet names!"
"Oh, shut up, Yuuta! Get back into the kitchen or something and stop getting on my nerves. I'm just being nice. Isn't that what is expected of me here?"
You watch the little quarrel with wide eyes until those maroon eyes snap back to you. The new guy, Sukuna apparently, laughs softly, revealing two rows of straight white teeth. And a pink tongue that curls upwards to press its tip to his front teeth, letting you catch a glimpse of something sparkly in his mouth. You realize only a split second later that Sukuna has a tongue piercing. You don't know why this fact makes your pulse flutter.
Sukuna cocks his head, fixing you with his intense gaze and a lifted eyebrow, like a cat checking you out, deciding whether you are worthy of its presence,
"So, let's try this again, huh? What do you want to order?"
"Um...I...a ... a large gingerbread latte, please...but can I get extra cinnamon, please?"
"Sure, anything you want, princess."
He smirks at you again before walking over to the coffeemaker. He is really tall. And his skinny black jeans are snug on his thighs and firm butt, making you silently curse yourself for checking out your new barista's ass. Sukuna is looking at you over his broad shoulder and asking in that velvety voice,
"What's your name?"
You tell him, and he nods, grabbing the pen next to the coffeemaker and scribbling your name on a paper cup before he starts preparing your order.
A few moments later, Sukuna puts the cup in front of you with another big grin on his handsome face.
"Here, enjoy!"
His long fingers are still wrapped around the cup. He's wearing black nail polish. Of course, he is! You almost snort. But his handwriting is surprisingly elegant.
You take the cup from him and give him a polite smile,
"Thank you. Have a nice day."
"Have a nice day too, sweetheart. Make sure to come back tomorrow."
His voice is filled with amusement, and the cheeky wink he gives you is absolutely not the way the other baristas treat the customers.
You quickly leave, wondering why your face feels so warm. It must be the heating in the coffee shop.
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December 2
"Good morning, princess. I'll get your order."
You are greeted by a smirking Sukuna, who is leaning casually against the shiny white counter, bracing himself on his elegant hands. The sleeves of his black sweater are pushed up to his elbows, exposing a pair of tattoed forearms. Tattooed and toned.
You stare at them for a moment too long before you lift your face to blink still a bit sleepily at Sukuna. His words register in your mind, and you frown in confusion.
"But...I didn't order anything yet."
"Oh, you don't have to. I know what you want."
His maroon eyes sparkle teasingly. You hate the way you get so flustered by a stupid comment like that. But something about the way Sukuna looks at you with so much confidence and smugness makes it hard not to get nervous.
Sukuna chuckles and turns around to walk over to the coffeemaker. When he comes back to place the paper cup in front of you, you see your name written on it correctly with a smiling face next to it, and Sukuna announces in a triumphant tone,
"Large gingerbread latte with extra cinnamon."
He really remembered your name and your coffee order. You can't help but be impressed. It took his coworkers weeks to remember those things.
You leave the coffee shop with a smile, sighing happily as you take the first sip of your gingerbread latte with extra cinnamon. Perfect! Exactly like you want it.
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December 6
You are in a bad mood this morning as you wait in line in the little coffee shop. Your thoughts are occupied with what your workday holds in store for you today. So you barely manage a weak smile when it's your turn to place your order.
Sukuna raises an eyebrow, 
"Rough morning ahead, princess?"
You nod, oddly touched that he noticed something is amiss.
"Yeah, I have a meeting with my boss today, and he will probably give me even more work."
Sukuna srunches his nose,
"In that case, you need something sweet to get you through the day. Take one of the red velvet cupcakes! They are the best. Trust me on that."
Before you can reply, he is already leaning down to grab a plate with a delicious-looking cupcake out of the glass display. He puts it on the counter in front of you with a boyish grin.
"Something sweet for a sweet girl."
You feel like an idiot when you drop the money you want to give him and have to pick it up from the floor with your ears ringing from the blood rushing into your head. Sukuna's laughter still carries through the coffee shop when you have already reached the door.
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December 7
"There she is! Hey, how did you like the cupcake? I didn't promise too much, did I?"
You can't help but laugh as Sukuna greets you with those words.
"It was one of the best cupcakes I ever ate! Thank you for recommending it."
He pouts, huffing in mock exasperation as he crosses his toned arms in front of his defined chest.
"Only one of the best? Then I'll make it even more delicious next time, so it will become the best cupcake you ever had. I'm not ok with only being second best!"
That makes you stop and raise your eyebrows,
"Wait, did you bake them?"
Sukuna laughs and nods smugly. There's a proud twinkle in his eyes.
"Yeah, I did. Tell me what you want me to change about the recipe, and the next batch will be the custom-made cupcake of your dreams."
Somehow you have no doubt that he is ambitious enough to really do that. And so you put a finger to your lips and lift your eyes in a playful thinking gesture,
"Hmmm, in that case, I really would love dark chocolate frosting instead of the vanilla one."
"Ok! My favorite customer wants dark chocolate. She'll get dark chocolate!"
You can't help but laugh at Sukuna's words, and hours later, when you are already sitting at your desk at work, his low playful voice still plays in your head. "My favorite customer," he said.
His favorite, huh?
A smile lifts the corners of your lips. Sukuna is definitely well on the way to becoming your favorite barista too.
As rude as he is, he is also pretty charming. You have to admit that. He definitely manages to lift your mood before a long workday. And maybe you are looking forward to his teasing comments and smug smirk every morning. Just a tiny bit.
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December 8
The first thing you see when entering the coffee shop is Sukuna's smirk, and he lifts a tattoed hand to wave at you and give you one of his teasing winks.
You chuckle softly and wave back at him as you get in line behind the other customers.
When you are only one customer away from the counter, the man in front of you steps to the side, allowing you to get a good look at the display stand. Behind the glass is a delicious-looking tray of red velvet cupcakes. This time with a dark chocolate topping, exactly as you wished for.
Your lips lift in a smile. And then your gaze lands on the little chalkboard in front of the cupcake tray. There is written in Sukuna's elegant handwriting, "(Y/N)'s dream cupcakes".
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December 10
When you enter the coffee shop this morning, you are greeted by the sight of red amongst the otherwise white interior. The two employees you see both wear bright red Santa hats.
Not Sukuna, though. He chooses that moment to stride out of the kitchen, carrying a baking sheet with Christmas cookies, looking as un-Christmassy as usual.
"Hey, Sukuna, put the hat back on! You know we have to wear them! Same rules for everyone!"
Sukuna rolls his eyes at his coworker as he places the cookies in the glass display.
"Tsk, I won't do that shit. It looks ridiculous."
His maroon gaze meets yours, and he grins.
"Let's ask a customer! Hey, princess, I'll let you be the judge."
And before you can say anything, Sukuna already grabs his discarded Santa hat and puts it on his pink hair. His eyes sparkle challengingly as he raises an eyebrow at you and points one long tattoed finger to his head,
"What do you think? This looks stupid, doesn't it?"
You stare at him wide-eyed, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights with all eyes on you. Especially that pair of maroon eyes that fixes you with an intense gaze and a smirk so attractive it should be illegal.
Your mind isn't functioning properly with all this attention on you before you even had your first fix of caffeine. And so you just blurt out what comes to your mind,
"I think it looks really good on you!"
It does. Everything looks good on Sukuna! He is gorgeous. He could even wear some reindeer antlers and a glowing red nose and pose as Rudolph, and he would still look hot!
Maybe your answer was a bit too enthusiastic, though, judging by the smug look on Sukuna's face. You feel embarrassed, averting your gaze quickly and feeling much too hot suddenly. But Sukuna just laughs.
"Well, in that case, I'll leave it on. Just for you, sweetheart."
The loud "Ooooooh!!" coming from the people in the waiting line behind you makes you wish the ground would swallow you whole, but at the same time, you cannot help but snicker softly and grin as you take your coffee from Sukuna.
The grin won't leave your face even when you are already on your train to work.
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December 12
Today you chose to pay the little coffee shop a visit after work. It's already pretty late, but you can't bring yourself to get up from your comfy seat at your favorite table that lets you watch the wintery street. People rush past the coffee shop on their way back home from work. Some carry big bags filled with Christmas presents, probably. You see small children on their parents' hands, pointing excitedly at the Christmas lights installed on the street lamps and the buildings.
It started to snow an hour ago, and now the trees lining the street are covered in fluffy-looking powdery snow. You watch, mesmerized, as big snowflakes slowly soar down from the sky.
It's so comfortable here in the coffee shop. Warm and cozy. You take a sip from your coffee before closing the e-mail you have been responding to. And now your finger lands on another app.
Tokyo Hearts – The dating app for lonely city hearts.
You open the app and get greeted by their current seasonal welcome message. You don't want to be alone on the merriest day of the year? Find a date for Christmas Eve here and discover true love.
You sigh. If only it was so easy! As much as you love Christmas time, it also gives you a little pang this year because you know you will be lonely on Christmas Eve.
Or maybe not! A notification pops up, telling you there is a new message for you.
The guy who sent it looks cute. And he works in an animal shelter, which makes him sound like the type of guy you could like.
Your finger hovers over the reply button, thinking hard about what you could message him back when a low voice next to your ear makes you jump,
"Are you looking for a boyfriend online, princess?"
You squeal loudly and almost drop your phone, struggling to catch it before it falls into your coffee.
Your gaze snaps up to Sukuna's tall figure, seeing him grin that insufferable grin at you.
You hurriedly lock your phone screen while trying to fight the embarrassment washing over you. As if Sukuna caught you doing something dirty.
"W...what are you doing over here, Sukuna?"
Sukuna graces you with a shit-eating teasing grin as he replies,
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I work here. Maybe I am being a good employee for once and checking on my customers to see if they are happy in our wonderful coffee shop or if they have another wish. Crazy, I know!"
His maroon eyes are full of mischief as he leans casually against your table.
You huff and roll your eyes,
"Wow, I guess I am talking to the employee of the month. But I don't need anything at the moment, thank you."
Sukuna laughs at your reply, but he doesn't leave. Instead, he shoves his hands into the pocket of the apron he is wearing over his black jeans and sweater and eyes you with a strange look on his handsome face.
"Be careful if you want to meet up with one of those guys from your little dating app. You never know what kind of idiots hide behind that screen."
That makes you blink up at him, surprised at the uncharacteristically serious tone of his usually so playful and teasing voice. Sukuna is towering over you with his tall height, but the bright red Santa hat atop his pink hair makes him look cute instead of intimidating today.
And his concern is touching. You find yourself nodding slowly and smiling gratefully at him.
"I'll be careful. Thank you, Sukuna."
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December 13
Your date with the animal shelter guy is a disaster.
You asked him to meet you in the coffee shop, and at first glance animal shelter guy is cute. But it only takes about ten minutes to realize that a cute face doesn't make a cute personality.
He is annoying. A know-it-all who keeps talking over you, making fun of your taste in movies and music, scrunching his nose at your job, and even looking down on the gingerbread latte with the extra cinnamon you love so much.
Not even half an hour into the date, you already know you never want to see him again. But he refuses to get the hint even when you start responding with only one-worded answers. You have a feeling he even prefers that you don't talk anymore because, most of all, he likes to listen to himself. And so he keeps on talking, sharing his opinions with you about this and that.
You zone out and let your gaze wander across the coffee shop and over to the counter, where Sukuna's tall figure is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. His maroon eyes meet yours. He has been watching your table, you realize.
He raises one eyebrow curiously, and then his gaze slips to your date and then back to you with a knowing grin. He lifts his right hand and makes a throat-slitting gesture.
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing out loud, but your eyes sparkle amusedly at him as you nod softly.
Sukuna pushes himself off the wall and grabs a tray with a large coffee cup that his coworker just put on the counter, making said coworker complain loudly. But Sukuna ignores him and, to your astonishment, starts walking toward your table.
Your eyes widen in foreboding as Sukuna stops next to your table, smiling down at animal shelter guy. It's a dangerous smile. And his low voice is sugary sweet, dripping with fake politeness,
"Here is your order, sir."
Your date lifts his head to snap at Sukuna,
"What do you mean!? I didn't order anything."
Sukuna's smirk grows wider as he stands there in all his glory, tall and gorgeous, looking intimidating with all his tattoos and piercings and the toned muscles of his biceps flexed from balancing the tray.
He cocks his head, eyeing your date with an amused expression on his handsome face that reminds you of a cat playing with a mouse,
"Aww, you didn't? Well, I guess this is on the house, then. Enjoy."
And with that, Sukuna flicks his long fingers against the large coffee cup, making it tip over.
You watch in fascinated horror as the coffee spills out of the cup and gushes over animal shelter guy's shirt.
"What the fuck!!?? Can't you be more careful!??"
Your date jumps up from his seat, hands twisted in his soaking wet shirt while he glares daggers at Sukuna, who just watches him with a satisfied grin.
You can't help but laugh but try to hide it by coughing into your hand while you watch the scene before you.
Animal shelter guy is now gesturing wildly with his hands, spitting insults at Sukuna.
But Sukuna just smiles devilishly at him and informs him in a dangerously soft voice,
"I want you to walk out that door now and never come back."
"I will NOT do that! Who do you think you are? I want to talk to your boss!"
That makes Sukuna laugh,
"Oh, I can do anything I want. My shift, my rules. And you are banned for a lifetime. Bye bye loverboy."
Sukuna jerks his chin towards the door and adds,
"You better not make me drag you out."
His gaze is stern now. The smile is gone. And apparently, your date finally gets the hint that he shouldn't get on Sukuna's wrong side. He scrambles to grab his jacket and hurries towards the door without a glance back,
Sukuna calls after him,
"And don't ever contact her again! I will find out about it if you do!"
You spend the next hour chatting with your favorite barista and eating a red velvet cupcake which he brings to your table with the words:
"On the house because you deserve that after having to listen to that loser for longer than a minute."
When you leave, you smile and call out softly,
"Thank you, Sukuna."
His answering smile is so genuine and pretty that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
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December 14
You have a dream where you are at a speed-dating event in the coffee shop, and Sukuna walks from table to table and pours various drinks over every potential date partner.
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December 15
You can already spot Sukuna from outside the coffee shop. He stands out, as usual, dressed all in black, tall and athletic, with pastel-colored pink hair and black tattoos.
But you realize immediately that there's an important detail missing. Where is the Santa hat he is supposed to wear?
You scrunch your nose. Maybe he decided to fuck the rules after all. It would suit him. You shake your head in amusement and push the door open.
The little bell jingles, and the comforting smell of coffee and Christmas wraps you in its cozy embrace.
And a pair of maroon eyes instantly meets yours.
Your heart does a weird thing. It throbs.
And Sukuna strides over to the counter and grabs something off it. His Santa hat, you realize a moment later, when he puts it on his head while grinning broadly at you.
The gesture makes you laugh, and when it's your turn to place your order, you can't help but comment teasingly,
"I see you are following your boss' wishes. Good boy."
At the beginning of the month, you wouldn't have dared talk like that to Sukuna. But by now, the two of you have established quite the playful banter, so teasing him back a little won't hurt, you assume.
Sukuna throws his head back, laughing loudly, revealing his slightly pointy canines and the silver tongue piercing that glitters in the light of the coffee shop. His voice is a low, seductive purr when he answers,
"Oh, I'm not wearing that stupid hat for my boss. I'm only wearing it for you."
And once again, you leave the coffee shop with a big grin and a fluttery feeling in your stomach.
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December 16
There's a small heart doodled onto your coffee-to-go cup.
You spot it in the middle of a meeting when you play with the cup in your hand and turn it to look at your name in Sukuna's elegant handwriting.
A heart.
It's red.
You didn't even know they have a red pen in the coffee shop.
When your boss asks you a question, you stutter because you have no idea what he is talking about.
The paper cup stays on your desk even after it is empty.
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December 17
The 17th day of December is the day when the "red velvet incident" happens.
You're standing in the waiting line, smiling to yourself as you already look forward to your gingerbread latte and a yummy red velvet cupcake. Of course, the ones with the dark chocolate frosting. The ones Sukuna always bakes for you now.
But your smile wavers when you catch a glimpse of the display and see that only one cupcake is left. And, of course, the guy in front of you orders a red velvet cupcake right now.
You silently curse and already try to come up with a replacement when Sukuna looks the guy dead in the eye and informs him,
"We are out of red velvet."
You blink. The other customer is just as surprised as you are because his head snaps from Sukuna to the cupcake and back again.
"Um, no, there is still one left."
Sukuna shakes his head,
"No."
"What do you mean? It's right there."
"It's not available."
"B...but.."
Sukuna lets out an irritated breath and straightens up, crossing his toned arms in front of his chest. His maroon eyes glitter dangerously as he glares at the customer,
"Do you want to be a problem? When I tell you there is no red velvet cupcake available, then there is none available. Now order something else or leave!"
Your eyes widen, and you watch in stunned amusement as the man stares at Sukuna for a long moment before he takes the hint and nervously asks for a cinnamon cupcake instead before hurriedly leaving the coffee shop, probably never to return again.
You step up to the counter. The same maroon eyes that were so unrelenting only a moment ago twinkle amusedly at you now, and the face that was so stern and threatening, is now lighting up in such a genuine and dazzling smile that it makes you feel a bit lightheaded.
"Hey, princess. Fancy a red velvet cupcake?"
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December 19
It's hard to focus on work today. 
The paper cup standing in the middle of your desk is just too distracting. Maybe not the paper cup itself, but definitely the message that is written under your name.
From Sukuna, made with love.
A stick-figure is doodled next to it, with a grin on its tattoed face and a Santa hat on its head.
And somehow, your heart beats a bit too fast.
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December 20
You roam through your dating app just like every night before you sleep. But you skip all the guys it suggests to you. They are all lacking something. Even though you can't tell what it is you don't like about them. They all seem nice and good-looking. So what is it that you are missing?
But in your dream that night, you see yourself sending a message to a very familiar guy with pink hair and tattoos on his handsome face.
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December 22
"So, did you meet anyone new on your little dating app, princess?"
Sukuna's gaze burns into yours, making you gulp hard before you manage to answer.
"Um, yeah, I have been exchanging some messages with someone. He asked me to be his Christmas Eve date."
Yesterday morning you woke up to a message from a good-looking businessman who rather straightforwardly asked you to be his date for Christmas Eve since he didn't like spending the evening alone.
As unromantic as the message was, you replied to him and agreed. After all, everything was better than being alone on that day. And this way, two lonely hearts wouldn't have to be so alone on that special day.
You thought you would feel relief upon finding someone to keep you company on Christmas Eve. After all, this was the sole reason why you downloaded that dating app. You were scared to spend this special evening alone. So you should be glad you found someone who wants to take you on a date. Right?
But why do you feel so unsure about it all of a sudden now that you are standing here in front of Sukuna? Why does it feel so wrong?
There's a strange twinkle in Sukuna's pretty eyes, and his smug expression wavers for a split second, but then he huffs softly, and his arrogant smirk is back in place. His soft, teasing laughter fills the air,
"Good for you. But I hope this isn't another loser like the last guy. Bring him here, ok? So I can have an eye on him. You know I'm excellent at getting rid of your failed dates."
Your fingers touch Sukuna's when you reach out to take the paper cup from him. His fingers are warm, and only the silver of the rings he's wearing feels slightly cool to the touch.
His eyes still look deeply into yours. They are an enticing shade of brown you have never seen on anyone else before. Maroon, like rich red wine, dangerous and warm at the same time. Framed by pretty black lashes and the filigree tattoos on his face.
Sukuna still hasn't pulled his hand away. And your fingers are still lightly wrapped around his, not making a move either to take the cup from him.
Only when Sukuna's coworker yells from the kitchen that a fresh tray of Christmas cookies is ready, do the two of you pull away.
When you leave the coffee shop to run towards the train station, you can't help but let a treacherous thought slip into your mind.
What if your date for Christmas Eve had pink hair and a smug smirk and made the best red velvet cupcakes you ever tasted? Would you feel happier about your date then?
You know the answer but forbid yourself to think about it.
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December 23
"Do you have any plans for Christmas Eve, Sukuna?"
You curse yourself for asking. You didn't want to give in to the urge, but you couldn't stop obsessing over it. What is your favorite barista doing on that day? Does he have a date himself? Will he leave the coffee shop behind to meet some beautiful girl or boy and take them on a date, making them laugh and flirt with them until they are so flustered they can only stutter? Will he kiss someone under a mistletoe? Will he take someone home and keep them warm in his strong arms while the snow falls down over the city?
The thought makes an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach.
Please don't say you are going on a date! Please don't say you are meeting someone else!
"No, I don't. I took the evening shift. I'll be here, blessing the love-drunk couples with my presence. The best Christmas gift, I dare say."
He winks at you, sounding smug and teasing like ever, but you feel like there is a little edge to the comment.
You are already at work when it hits you: Sukuna took the evening shift. He will be here tomorrow when you meet your date.
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December 24
Christmas Eve.
The time for couples. The time for love and romantic dates.
And yet you are sitting alone at your favorite table in the coffee shop.
Your date is already twenty minutes late.
The truth is you aren't even sure you still want him to show up. Or that you ever wanted him to show up at all. Because isn't all of this just a farce anyway?
You aren't interested in that guy. You don't know him and don't want to get to know him. Your heart doesn't beat faster when you think of him. There aren't any butterflies in your tummy when you see his pictures. You have no warm feeling in your chest when you hear his voice. He doesn't make you laugh. He doesn't make you look forward to talking to him. He doesn't know your favorite coffee order or that you like dark chocolate frosting on your red velvet cupcakes.
So what are you even doing here? It's an uncomfortable truth but one you have to face. You only wanted to meet him because you didn't want to be alone on Christmas Eve.
But is this the right way to do it? Fight loneliness with a meaningless date?
It was stupid to do this. And now you are sitting here amidst all those happy couples, clutching your coffee cup tightly in your hands, feeling the sadness wash over you.
So stupid.
How could you think that you could force yourself to have a romantic Christmas Eve?
You get startled out of your misery when Sukuna suddenly plops down on the bench on the other side of your table.
"He's not coming, is he?"
His beautiful maroon eyes are watching you carefully.
You bite your lip and shake your head, feeling tears gather in your eyes. You feel so small and pathetic, sitting here all alone while around you all the couples have their romantic dates. And all you managed was to get stood up by some random guy you weren't even interested in. It's so embarrassing. Surly Sukuna thinks the same.
But his eyes narrow at your words, and he reaches out to put his large hand on top of yours, giving it a short but reassuring squeeze.
"What an asshole! He doesn't know what he's missing."
"It's... it's ok, I guess. I didn't really like him anyway. I don't even know him. I just...I didn't want to be alone on Christmas Eve. That's why I wanted to meet someone on that stupid dating app."
"You aren't alone, princess. I'm right here! I'll be your Christmas Eve date!"
The smirk is back on Sukuna's face, looking so handsome and charming that it makes your heart skip a beat. And his words...
You blink at him, feeling heat spread through your body. Is he serious?
You eye him shyly, not sure if this is just part of your usual banter or something else. But there is a softness on Sukuna's tattoed features you have never seen there before. As if sensing your insecurities, Sukuna adds with a smile,
"I mean it, princess. I would have asked you anyways if you didn't tell me you already had a date. And come on, I am much better than any of those guys in your dating app! With me, you'll experience the ultimate Christmas magic! So, say yes, and I'm all yours."
Laughter bubbles out of your mouth. The gloominess from a moment ago is already forgotten as you smile at your favorite barista and nod softly,
"Ok, how could I say no to an offer like that?"
Sukuna's answering laugh is warm and genuine.
"Good girl. You won't regret it. Give me five minutes, and I'll make this the best Christmas Eve of your life!"
And with that being said, he gets up and walks over to the counter. You watch him across the coffee shop, feeling your pulse race and smiling from ear to ear at the fluttery feeling you have in your stomach when Sukuna's gaze meets yours across the room, and he winks at you.
He comes back after a few minutes carrying a tray that's overflowing with red velvet cupcakes, Christmas cookies, and two slices of Christmas cake as well as your gingerbread latte with extra cinnamon. He sets it down on the table and sits down across from you with a big cheeky grin.
"Merry Christmas, princess."
He looks so pretty with his glittering maroon eyes and boyish smirk. And his low voice is gentle and playful, making it impossible not to smile brightly at him.
"You are actually really nice. Do you know that, Sukuna?"
"Oh, I can be nice if I want. But don't tell anyone. I prefer it if they are scared of me. It's more fun."
Both of you laugh at that, and after that, you fall into a comfortable conversation while sharing the delicious Christmas treats and sipping coffee. It feels so natural to be here with Sukuna. He makes you laugh and roll your eyes in mock exasperation at his arrogant comments, but your heart feels so full at everything he says, at the familiarity of it.
And you realize at that moment that this is what you have been looking forward to every morning for the last few weeks. These flirty comments, that smug smirk, those warm maroon eyes that always sparkle so mischievously.
And all the nice little things Sukuna did for you. And finally, you let yourself think those thoughts you used to consider treacherous. You let yourself feel those things you thought would lead nowhere. You let yourself admit that you like him.
You enjoy Sukuna's company. You like the way he talks and smirks and is so insufferable in the most attractive and irresistible way. You think he is the most charming person you have ever met. And as tough as he appears at first glance, he is actually caring and sweet when you don't let yourself get tricked by his rough attitude.
Another customer chooses that moment to clear his throat loudly before he addresses Sukuna,
"Hey, um, can I order?"
Sukuna musters him with a cold look, his face a stony mask.
"No, you can't. Don't you see I'm on a date too? If you want more cake, just go behind the counter and get some. Put the money on the table."
The corners of his lips lift in a grin when his gaze meets yours again, and you laugh softly, shaking your head,
"Aren't you going to get into trouble with your boss?"
Sukuna shrugs,
"I don't care. And the owner is actually my cousin. So as much as I have tried, he hasn't fired me yet. I think you'll be stuck with me as your barista."
"Oh, that's good to hear! You're my favorite, after all!"
"I know. Who else would prepare your coffee so perfectly and bake your dream cupcakes? I'm the only one who gets it right, don't I?"
And yes, it's true, you realize at that moment. Sukuna is the only one who gets it right. Not just your coffee order and your favorite cupcakes. He also gets it right when it comes to making you feel happy. He is the only one who gives you this magical Christmas feeling that you crave. He has been doing it the whole month.
And suddenly, you are filled with so much affection for your gorgeous barista. You catch yourself wishing there was a mistletoe above your table so you could seal this Christmas Eve date with a kiss.
You look around the coffee shop for one, thinking you are sneaky. But then your gaze meets Sukuna's, and you see the sly grin on his face.
"You know, you don't need a mistletoe to kiss me, princess. I'm your official date now, so you can get a kiss anytime you want."
Before you even have a chance to get embarrassed, one of Sukuna's large hands lands on yours again, and this time he interlaces his fingers with yours. He leans over the table, smiling that boyish grin at you that makes your stomach fill with butterflies. 
You see his gaze wander to your lips, and you instinctively lean closer to him too.
Is this really happening?
Maroon eyes gaze deeply into yours as Sukuna places a long finger under your chin, tilting your face up and smirking that sexy smirk at you. 
And then his lips are on yours. Warm and soft and surprisingly gentle, making you melt into the kiss with a happy sigh.
Soon your mouth opens against Sukuna's, and he deepens the kiss, making your heart race when his tongue strokes tenderly against yours. Letting you feel his tongue piercing and making you gasp at the sensation of the metal stud gliding over your tongue.
You smile when your fingers land on the back of Sukuna's neck and caress the soft stubble of his undercut, which makes Sukuna groan softly into your kiss. Before long, the Santa hat on his head falls to the ground, but neither of you cares.
Not when Sukuna's kiss is so sweet and enticing. Not when his kiss is your personal Christmas miracle.
Sukuna's fingers caress your jaw, a firm but tender touch. Just like his kiss is passionate and gentle at the same time. A deep, slow French kiss that makes your head spin.
When the two of you pull apart, you are both grinning broadly at each other, eyes filled with wonder.
Your voice is a bit hoarse when you confess softly,
"This is really the best Christmas Eve date I ever had."
Sukuna's grin grows even wider at your words,
"I am the best choice for a date all year."
"In that case, I think we should go on many more dates."
"Anything you wish, princess. I told you, my favorite customer gets anything she wants from me."
You roll your eyes, but you can't hide how pleased you are, brimming with happiness, lips lifted in a smile and eyes shining brightly. Before Sukuna can go on even more about how perfect he is, you quickly lean over the table again and shut him up with another kiss.
The other customers are forgotten. The only thing you know are warm maroon eyes and soft lips and a smug smirk that turns into a beautiful smile when you caress the tattoos on Sukuna's cheek.
It's getting late, and gradually all the couples around you leave the coffee shop to head home or to go see the Christmas lights.
And then there are only you and Sukuna left. He joins you on your side of the table. And soon after, you find yourself sitting on his lap, with Sukuna's strong arms wrapped tightly around you, his warm solid body pressed against yours, and his lips moving on yours in slow sensual kisses that taste like gingerbread spice and cinnamon.
You send a silent thank you to your original date, who decided to ditch you. Because, after all, Sukuna was right. He really is the better date. The best one you could have ever wished for.
Your perfect Christmas gift.
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Thank you so much for reading my Christmas story!! I hope you enjoyed barista Sukuna :) He definitely baked his way into my heart! I didn't plan for this story to get so long, but I couldn't stop writing. All the Christmas fluff with Kuna made me feel so happy and warm! I hope he can make your December sweeter too! If you are lonely on Christmas, you can count on barista Sukuna to make you feel better.
A big thank you again to Loni for hosting this amazing collab! It's such a sweet idea!!
Please let me know how you like barista Sukuna! Comments and reblogs make me happy :)
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tradgays · 6 months ago
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10 Domestic Skills Gay Beta Males Should Acquire
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As a beta male in a tradgay relationship, your primary goal is to support and complement your alpha husband, making his life easier and more enjoyable. Focusing on traditionally feminine tasks demonstrates your commitment to creating a harmonious and balanced partnership. Here are ten essential domestic skills for beta males to master:
1. *Interior decorating and styling*: Develop an eye for aesthetics, learning how to arrange furniture, select decorative pieces, and curate a beautiful home that reflects your husband's tastes.
2. *Gardening and plant care*: Tend to indoor plants, outdoor gardens, or even start a small herb garden to bring joy and serenity to your shared space.
3. *Meal planning and food presentation*: Create healthy, visually appealing meals that cater to your husband's dietary needs and preferences. Presentation matters!
4. *Wardrobe management and fashion consulting*: Help your husband maintain a stylish wardrobe by organizing his closet, selecting outfits, and offering fashion advice.
5. *Personal grooming and skincare*: Learn the basics of skin care and personal grooming so that you always look like a daper little nelly boy.
6. *Floral arrangement and gift wrapping*: Learn the art of arranging flowers and crafting thoughtful gifts that show appreciation for your husband.
7. *Home fragrance and ambiance*: Experiment with scented candles, essential oils, and room sprays to create inviting atmospheres that make your husband feel comfortable and relaxed.
8. *Personal shopping and gift selection*: Take charge of buying gifts for special occasions, considering your husband's interests and preferences to surprise him with thoughtful presents.
9. *Travel planning and itinerary management*: Plan vacations, book flights and accommodations, and coordinate activities to ensure stress-free getaways.
10. *Daily routine assistance*: Anticipate and assist with morning routines, such as preparing breakfast, packing lunches, or simply bringing your husband his favorite coffee.
By mastering these traditionally feminine tasks, you'll demonstrate your willingness to support and complement your alpha husband, alleviating some of the burdens of daily life. Remember, as a beta male in a tradgay relationship, your goal is to make your husband's life easier, happier, and more fulfilling.
He, in turn, will provide you with guidance, direction, and care to keep you safe and happy.
By focusing on these skills, you'll not only showcase your love and dedication but also create a more balanced and harmonious partnership.
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to-myalphonse · 6 months ago
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     “Late night conversations” Barista!Heizou & Gn!Reader
Writing Practice
Prompt 1: Coffee shop Au meeting.
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The sun disappeared beneath the depths as far as you could see. You watched as the cold night air set in around you. The time at university today is causing aching stress in your shoulders as you trudge along the streets tired. The world clouds cover the people within the streets and their issues. Sounds intermix as the shadows of the people fade in out.
“I’m so tired.” You mumble, reaching a stoplight. Shadows of people filled the area next to you and across the pathways. You heave out a sigh, clutching your own arm. Crowds of people are provoking the negative emotions plaguing your half-awake mind.
“How irritating.” You mumble, catching the attention of someone next to you. Snapping your neck up, you see other people staring at you now, as irritated as yourself. Her words sounding suppressed as her hands began to move almost violently. You slowly blink at her actions as she continues going on a rant you assume about something before dropping her hands to her sides. When the light turned green, you went to cross when she shoved into you before passing quickly. You watch her before passing along your way as well.
“What to eat for dinner?” You check the time on your phone, as the time appeared later than you thought it to be. Your stomach growled as you hurried down the streets trying to find a familiar restaurant that you ordered from. Each restaurant that you went to normally was busier around this time than usual. You tried waiting, only for your stomach to growl more incessantly.
An establishment that you had never seen before popped up in the corner of your eye. Turning, you see a red-haired boy cleaning the windows slowly. There seemed to be a lack of people in the restaurant, with him seemingly being the only member who was working at this time. Your eyes look around the new place as you stop on the sidewalk.  
The interior and the colors within give you a sense of comfort. Your eyes move to look over to the next section when his eyes stop and meet yours. He stares at your figure for a moment before looking at you with a small smile. You nod in greeting as he walks away from the window. 
Chagall Café (home famous inazuman coffee)
 “This looks so cute.” You bend forward, looking at a certain item on the menu. You were going to continue looking until your stomach growled again.
 Ah, yes, dinner.
 You make your way into the café where the red head is working. The bell rings as the door closes behind you. Soft jazz music fills the air as you make your way to the counter. The red head was nowhere to be seen, probably cleaning something. You wait, staying glued to the counter.
“This place is pretty.” You look at the walls painted with various Inazuman-style pages of writing and pictures taken from old Kameras. Some photos were of other employees with their names written on the wall. A purple haired woman, a white haired male, and a blue haired male appeared on the wall, along with their names.
 One of the paintings catches your eye as you approach it, leaning your face in as close as you can. The painting was that of a male who look nervous, glancing at his surroundings. The dark surroundings of him as he moved forward through his surroundings. 
“This one is a bit strange.”
“Well, it’s not if you understand it.” An unfamiliar male’s voice comes close to your ear. Turning, you see the red head from last time. His green eyes twinkling as he wore a look of amusement. Your heart pounded in your chest as the red head appeared next to you. Your teeth grit as you face his green eyes, which twinkled as he wore a look of amusement.
Does he get paid to do this?
Your fear of the sudden surprise from the barista changed into annoyance. The red head let out a small laugh as he holds his hands up in a “I surrender” pose. At a closer glance, you were able to notice things clearer about him. His name, for example, was on the tag that you could see, with his hair and eyes prominently standing out to you as you examined him further. His red hair seemed natural, as the color looked different from the dyes you would see in your workplace have. Which is rare around town, as most weren’t natural red heads like he is. His green eyes represent his demeanor. Those old novels always portray people with green eyes or color schemes as mischievous or tricksters.
 You wonder if he was like those characters with the ridiculous situations those close to him would wind up in.
“Hello, customer?” His playful voice turning into concern as he snapped in front of your face. His words regaining your attention as you met his eyes once more. He let out a small sigh, stepping back from you slightly. His eyes, looking at you seriously, were the mischief that he had when he spooked you.
“Ah, my apologies.” He shakes his head. 
“No, I apologize for scaring you like that.” He moves to go back to behind the counter. 
“Please take your time and let me know when you’re ready.” His voice goes back to a customer service tone as he takes his post again. He looks at you before looking around the room.
You look over the menu again before placing your order from the items you saw on the menu earlier. 
"Oh, the deep fried dish? That’s my favorite, actually.” 
“It’s just once in awhile, not often.” Heizou nods, taking the menu from you,going in the back to take care of the order. You take your seat, pulling out your phone.
You lean against your hand as you scroll through Instagram. A few dog videos pop up, making you laugh. A video of a green-haired girl and a black cat is what you landed on. The black cat was running away from the girl recording until he jumped out and opened the window. The girls screamed until she saw the cat landing perfectly fine, looking up at her blankly.
“What a strange cat.” You go through the comments, laughing at a few of them.
“Her meow meow?” You giggle at a nickname that her fandom had given the cat. The cat seemed grumpy and almost impossible to handle. How did that girl handle him? You scroll through a few more videos of her fyp.
As the girl and her cat were placing your order on the table, you became distracted. A plate of food was placed instead of a bag. You look up confusedly before checking the time.
It was almost midnight; why would he hand you a dish?
“Take your time; I can’t lock up until the last customer leaves.” You let out a small oh before digging into the food you ordered.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.” He gives a small smile before walking off again. You heard a few things moving in the kitchen as you focused on your food. You kind of feel bad; the restaurant should be closed, but he allowed you to stay and eat so that he wouldn't get fired. You quickly dove into the food so that he could go home. Silence encompassed the room as you quickly digested the food, with it being late didn’t surprise you that much.
“Can I sit with you?” You choke on a piece of food as he appeared again besides you. You start choking as he pats you on the back until you were able to dislodge the food. 
“Man alive, this is the second time you did this.” He hands you the water, watching as you drank it checking for any other choking hazards. He took a seat across from you once he saw the symptoms calm down. The redhead’s eyes stared down at the table as he broke composure and leaned his arm against the table, propping up his head.
“It’s been a long day.” His green eyes hid behind his eyelids as he appeared to try and get his thoughts together. 
“Too many customers?” 
“Well no. We had this one customer who kept yelling at a staff member of ours, calling her a chicken. She almost beat his ass; I had to step in.” He sighs, having a deadpan look.
“Is he a regular?” He shakes his head, opening his mouth as if he were going to say something, before leaning against the table. You could almost imagine how hectic it was and how that man was most likely banned from the restaurant.
“How about you? You seemed to be more tired than me when you came in." He stares at you, waiting for an answer. His green eyes stare you down, giving his full attention to you. You suddenly feel shy as you fiddle with your hands.
“I have an office job; they had me work a shift that wasn’t mine.” You sigh, remembering how tired you were when you locked up. You lead him onto the table, taking in a deep breath. 
“An office job, huh? It sounds like you’re used to having a co worker call out sick so that you can pick up their work.” 
“Tell me about it.” You let out a groan, rolling your eyes. That coworker was higher up in the office than you and had the privilege of taking long vacations to live their life without restraint. This only created more work for you, division, and alcoholism problems for some. “They aren’t even there half the time. Last time I checked, they were in Mondstadt kicking it up with the locals.” The more you talked about them, the tighter you gripped the utensils.  
“If you stress so much, your heart might give out.” He removes the plate from your hands and gets up from the table with it. 
“Thank you.” You left the change on the counter, making your way out of the restaurant, not wanting him to go home later than you had already wasted his time. A bit rejuvenated, you make your way down the street to the train station.
You put your hands in your pocket as you wait for the station with a chill running down your spine from the cold night wind. You let out a small sigh as you put your hands into your jacket pocket while waiting for the train. You hate the cold but also the hot, so you couldn’t really prefer either weather. A piece of paper that you don’t remember was in your pocket as you waited. 
Pulling it out, you see a paper with handwriting you haven’t seen.
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f1tyreslightmyfyre · 1 year ago
Text
Immortal Artistry - Ch. 5
Series Main List
A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)
Also on AO3
Ch. 5 Warnings: Explicit sexual content; language; stalker behavior; abduction; vampire blood violence and thrall; WWII references to Hitler and Nazi regime; non-graphic violence, murder and death
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You draft back to consciousness. A soft pillow rests beneath your head. A warm blanket surrounds you. A heavenly mattress cushions you. Blinking your eyes open, you swear that you float on a cloud, except…. 
The bedroom’s unfamiliar surroundings fill you with immediate dread. Exhaustion gnaws at every muscle, but your fight-or-flight response still engages. Especially as the alarming memories of the coffee shop return in full force - remembering George and his… teeth. Remembering Max just suddenly being there and then… now, you’re here…
If only you knew where here is. The furniture speaks to opulent luxury and exquisite taste, even down to the plush carpet that greets your feet as you sit up. A wave of dizziness makes your head swim as you get your bearings, and your gaze lands on a glass of orange juice sitting on the bedside table. 
Orange juice… and not water?
Curiosity compels you to lean forward, hovering your nose over the glass’ contents. The sweet aroma of juicy citrus perfumes the air, and your confusion only grows. Why of all liquids is orange juice resting on the bedside table?
Your ears catch up with the rest of your senses, and you turn towards the cracked bedroom door. The soft, elegant notes of a piano float from somewhere beyond, just barely audible in the silence of the bedroom. Standing up, you draw an uneasy breath as your body feels weak. You have no idea what time it is or when you last ate, but it doesn't appear that you’re locked in, so maybe you can escape. 
The door swings wide on a silent hinge, and the hallway beyond matches the same elegant taste as the bedroom. A grand staircase extends from the end of the hallway, and you follow it down on plush carpet as the piano music grows steadily louder. 
When your feet touch the marble landing, your stomach drops as you recognize everything about the interior of the opulent, classy main floor. It takes you instantly back to your dream - or fuck, the not dream - the last time that you saw Charles. To when… fuck, was that seriously just last night?
You gasp for breath as the room starts to spin, raising a hand to your head to brace yourself. 
The piano music dies as an all-too familiar silky voice calls out. “Careful, cara mia. You should still be resting.” 
Drawing a deep breath through your nose and exhaling out your mouth, you force your eyes open only to see… him.
Charles sits on the gleaming white piano bench, turned towards you with a soft, concerned smile. A white dress shirt highlights the lean build of his torso and rolled sleeves showcase the elegant planes of his forearms. Dark suit trousers hug his legs above bare feet, and coupled with the devil-may-care style of his hair… it’s - 
No man should be allowed to look so criminally handsome.  
You give a bewildered shake of your head. “I don’t… I’m too tired to rest.” Again, you scrub a hand across your forehead and down your face, feeling the ache in your temples increase. 
“Did you drink the orange juice?” 
You hang your head with a gentle shake. “No - what kind of idiot do you take me for? Drinking an unknown drink when I don’t even know where I am?” 
A shadow moves off to your left, and your eyes dart up to suddenly see Charles standing alongside you. How had you not even heard him move? Or heard the scrape of the piano bench against the floor? 
“You’ve been through a lot - too much, I suppose. But that just speaks to your strength.” Charles continues softly as a cool, solid hand falls to your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you should overdo it, though.” He guides you forward, and you can’t summon the strength to resist.
With a sigh, you drop to sit on a cushy couch that has no right to be so inviting. Blinking heavy eyelids up at him, goodness… Charles is stunning. Golden light catches in the waves of his hair and shines in the emeralds of his eyes. He radiates breezy confidence, an oasis of calm in the muddled desert that has become your life. 
He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Will you be alright if I leave you here? I really do think orange juice would help.” 
“As long as…” you sigh as you swallow nervously. “Only if you promise it’s not poisoned.” 
“I promise it’s not poisoned.” With another gentle squeeze of your shoulder, his touch disappears as he moves away from you. “I don’t have any reason to wish you dead. If I did, you would still be in that coffee shop with George.” 
The memories replay in the back of your mind as anxiety clenches your stomach. “Then, why am I here?”
Your question lingers unanswered as Charles disappears for – not even the space of a breath. Your brow furrows at the sudden appearance of a glass of orange juice in his hand, and… okay, maybe your brain is just really too tired to even see straight. 
The glass is cold against your fingertips and the pulpy liquid is admittedly refreshing. The sugary liquid hits your empty stomach and a burst of energy warms your stomach. 
Charles wears a patient and satisfied expression as you take another hearty drink. “See?” He prompts. “Not poisoned.”
Embarrassed heat rises in your cheeks. “Sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but-”
“I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, and if I were you, I probably wouldn’t, either.” He cuts you off as he joins you on the couch and levels you with a serious stare. “But it’s time to fix that.”
A chill races along your skin, rippling down your spine. Something about him reminds you of George, of that predatory glow in his eyes. Your fingers tighten around the glass as unwanted memory flashes in your mind.
“Were you this frightened for Charles, hmm?” George cooed. “I can’t imagine how he resisted you…”
Your other hand rises to your throat as if to protect it. “… What was George going to do to my neck?”
“Bite you, of course.” Charles answers without pause, his tone light despite the gravity of his words. “I hadn’t wanted to tell you outright what we are. At face value, the truth is quite dismissible – laughable, even. But, well… George saved me the trouble, I suppose.”
You turn to him with wide eyes. “He was going to bite me? With those unnaturally pointed teeth of his? Like, what… like a vamp– ”
The word dies in your throat as Charles’ smile widens to reveal fangs – honest-to-God fangs - of his own. Razor sharp canines that dwarf the surrounding teeth and glint in the golden light like a knife’s edge.
Your mind slams into overdrive as the impossible truth stares you in the face. “That…” you trail off as you struggle to make sense of it. “That’s why you needed the late night meeting… that’s why I’ve only ever seen you at night. And Max, too. And -” You shake your head as you recall every time that you have seen George - in the hours after sunset, in the time before sunrise. “And the… what did you call it? Hypnosis?” You turn back to Charles, thankful to see his fangs hidden away. “That’s your thrall, isn’t it?” 
Charles’ gaze sharpens with a shrewd edge. “That’s just one name for it. Bram Stoker didn’t get everything right, but he certainly knew enough.” 
You gulp heavily at the implication. “Does that mean I’m under your spell? Or rather, Max’s spell…? That I’m… forced to do his bidding whenever he wants?” 
“The effects of our hypnotic hold over mortals is temporary unless there’s a blood exchange. And since he hasn’t bitten you, you two don’t share that connection unless he’s present.” 
“So, if George had…” A shuddering breath leaves you as your stomach rots. “If he had bitten me, then I’d now be trapped under his spell?” 
“Whether he would have hypnotized you tonight or not, I cannot say - but whenever he chose to, it would be much easier for him to do so. And me - or Max, for that matter - would be unable to help you.” 
“Because I would be his?” 
Charles nods his head. “Because you would be his.”
Something about that thought… isn’t completely revolting. George, the man - err, vampire - is certainly handsome and quite charming. But it still doesn’t make sense. You take another sip of the orange juice, reaching forward to set the glass down on the coffee table. “But I guess I don’t understand why he would want to make me his. He…” 
“But Charles gave it to you.” George pressed. “You have it, don’t you? Xavier didn’t have it.” 
Anxiety knots your stomach as you turn back to Charles, glimpsing the glittering light dancing in his green eyes. “George asked me if you gave me something. Something that Xavier didn’t have.” Your gaze narrows pointedly. “He was talking about my boss, right? Were you supposed to give him something that night, but you met with me instead?” 
Charles’ gaze hardens. “Xavi already knew what I had to give him, and I knew that my meeting wasn’t with him.” 
“Then, are you able to tell George that I don’t have it? Whatever it is… then he can leave me alone, and you two can sort it out.” 
Charles’ soft chuckle cracks a smile on his face. “I’m afraid the game is far too old for that. We each have our chess pieces and we play them as opportunity allows.” His eyes narrow in open assessment, heat growing on your skin as he looks you up and down. “He was trying to make you into his own personal chess piece, but fortunately, Max has been keeping a close eye on you.” 
“Is that meant to be reassuring?” You scoff. “You say that George wants to turn me into his chess piece - well, how do I know that you and Max aren’t trying to do the same?” 
“Who says we aren’t?” 
Your blood runs cold as shivers ripple down your spine. You stare back, wide-eyed and stunned as your mouth goes dry. “So, you’re… you’re going to… bite me?” 
“It’s the offer on the table.” Charles says with a business-like calm. “If George is convinced of some fact and wants you on his side - with or without your permission - then, Max thought we would offer you the choice.” 
You gulp, glancing around the expansive room. “And is he here? Max…?” 
A private smile curls the corner of Charles’ mouth. “He’s never too far away.” 
Nothing about that is anymore comforting, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay… so, according to you - I have two options: join George’s team or join your team?” 
“If you must simplify it so plainly, then yes.” 
“Then, why don’t you explain it to me?” 
Charles arches a defiant brow. “Do you really think that would make you safer?” 
“Do you think it would place me in any more danger?” You shake your head sharply with another scoff. “I don’t have the first fucking clue about any of this and already I’ve met three vampires - possibly more - and one of them has attacked me, while another one has hypnotized me, and now, you’re… you’re…” 
You don’t know what exactly. Your thoughts are too jumbled and Charles isn’t speaking clearly enough for you to piece the big picture together. 
“I really thought you were smarter than that.” George urged. “Smart enough to see through him… to see that what he’s doing is just wrong.”
With another deep breath, you swallow your rising anxiety. “How do I know your team is the right one to join, hmm?” You arch a challenging brow. “How do I know that you’re not the villain in this game of chess?” 
The look in Charles’ eyes suddenly ages him decades older than his youthful countenance. “Heroes and villains are constructs of the mortal world, cara mia. Fanciful concepts to paint the world in white and black, and right and wrong.” He pauses as a wickedly tempting smile lights his face. “But immortality offers a world of grey and endless opportunity to make your way.” 
“That doesn’t exactly help your case, you know.” 
“I know, and I’m not trying to build a case.” He nods towards you. “Whether or not you like it, or whether or not you know why, you’re caught in the middle. And if you want control of the choice, then you will make it tonight.” 
Frustration tightens the line of your jaw. “Then why don’t you just tell me what I’m caught in the middle of, and then I can make an informed decision.” 
“I fear telling you outright would only raise suspicion. Especially if you are, as of yet… unclaimed.” 
You arch a brow as your stomach drops to your feet. “Unclaimed…? You said nothing about claiming me.” 
“It’s, err - maybe not the best choice of word.” A sheepish look flashes across his face. “But after a blood exchange, our hypnotic hold intensifies and…evolves. It forms a sort-of mental connection between us and our chosen thrall, but the thrall is not completely independent of free-will. It’s…” He trails off with a sigh and another sheepish grin. “It’s not easy to explain, actually.” 
You stare at him, still unable to believe it. “How… how long have you been alive?” 
“I’ve been undead since 1940.” 
“1940…? Shit, that’s… World War II.” 
Slowly, he nods. “Yes, it was.” 
“Did you fight?” 
His gaze finds yours, mesmerizing and keen. “Quite personal questions, don’t you think?” 
You shrug gently. “You said it was time to change the fact that I don’t trust you. If George was going to just… take me in that coffee shop tonight, then maybe you… you can just give it to me, instead? If that makes sense…?” 
Something sparks in Charles’ eyes, and really… it’s fucking unfair how edible he looks. His tongue darts out to wet his top lip and you’re helpless not to follow the motion. “I did fight,” he starts softly. “Monaco - still my home, even then - remained neutral throughout the war, but 800 men were mobilized in support of French forces when war broke out in 1939.” He pauses as his eyes gloss over with distant memory. “By May 1940, the Nazis were sweeping the continent and our forces had nowhere to go except for Dunkirk.” 
Your breath catches. “Dunkirk…? The Dunkirk evacuation?” It sounds too unreal to possibly be real. “You were there?” 
“I never made it that far.” Charles says with a short shake of his head. “My sire found me in the woods as we marched towards the coast. I suppose you could say he saved me the trouble of worrying about a boat ride when he transformed me.” 
“Is that what you call it?” You wave a hand as if the motion somehow captures everything about Charles’ words. “When you turn into a… vampire? A transformation?” 
“That, too, has many names - but that is what I prefer to call it.” 
Again, your hand rises to your neck in a protective gesture and your thumb sweeps over your pulse. “Were you given the choice? By your - what did you call him - sire?” 
The corner of Charles’ mouth tightens. “No, I wasn’t. And no - I won’t explain his reasoning.” 
“I wasn’t going to ask. That just seems…” You’re not sure exactly what to say. It seems wrong that Charles wasn’t given a choice on whether to become immortal or not. But, then again, how do you actually answer a question like that? Either way, it’s far too personal to ever be any of your business. 
Silence stretches between you, and thankfully, he doesn’t press you. Why would he? The man - the vampire - literally has forever to wait. You, on the other hand… fuck, you still have to go to work tomorrow. You still don’t have a boss, you still don’t have a clue what Charles was supposed to give Xavier that George wants, and… you don’t even have a clue how late it is. 
You turn back towards Charles. “If you bite me - if I let you - what do I get out of it?” Even as the words leave your tongue, they still sound impossibly ridiculous. Vampires just aren’t real… yet you can’t deny all the proof before your eyes. 
“A fair question.” Charles acknowledges. “I suppose you could call it protection… or, at least, subliminal awareness of each other. A connection that could alert me to your distress or future danger. A connection that could lead me to where you are, in case you’re captured.” 
The orange juice roils in your gut. “None of that sounds reassuring.” 
“No?” He echoes even as the corner of his mouth lifts. “Nothing reassuring about having me as your own personal guardian angel?” 
“Not if that also turns me into a piece on your chessboard.” 
“Then, it doesn’t have to be me.” His smile widens with a teasing, suggestive slant. “As I recall, you were indeed quite taken with Max.” 
Your cheeks heat with an embarrassed flush, especially since you’re not able to conjure any concrete memory of being ‘quite taken’ with Max. Just what exactly had you done? Or what had you said? “I don’t… that’s not…” You struggle for words, hoping it’s not obvious to him. “You… or him - that’s not the -” 
“Or it could be both of us.” 
Unwanted thoughts flood your brain. Dear Lord, what would it be to have the two of them together? Images of a cliche dark room, four-poster bed and blood-red sheets dance in your mind. Tangles of lean hips and strong arms, thick brunette curls and lush sandy locks surround you as you’re caught in the push and pull between them. Rivulets of blood decorate your skin, weeping from matching puncture wounds as they own your body, inside and out. 
A different heat stirs in your blood - a demanding heat that gathers between your legs, unstoppable even in the face of life-threatening danger and utter confusion. 
Charles purrs low in his throat. “Exquisite, cara mia.” 
Mortified heat burns your cheeks. “No, no - I don’t-” 
“Your lying words cannot mask the scent of your blood.” He pauses to draw a deliberate, deep inhale. “And yours heats with such… delectable promise.” 
“It’s nothing, it’s - “ You cut yourself off as another thought dawns. “Do you not wish that I was more scared? I thought… well, George made it sound like fear… was the most delicious?” 
A low, throaty chuckle rumbles in Charles’ chest. “I suppose it depends on one’s preference. If you liken fear to dark chocolate and desire to a lush fruit - they both can make for an exquisite treat while being quite different.” 
“And your preference?” Your words come far breathier than you would like as your heart gallops. 
Charles’ eyes darken as his smile widens. “If I wanted you scared,” he says carefully as he slowly raises a hand, brushing a knuckle down the outside of your arm in a gentle caress. “We would be having a much different conversation.” 
His touch speaks to the traitorous arousal curling at the base of your spine, and god… why is this so hard? You force a swallow down your dry throat. “So, you w-would rather…” 
“I would rather have you melting in my lap, whimpering with desire, and soaking through my trousers,” his voice doesn’t falter as he holds you with a gaze that leaves no room for doubt. “If you choose me, that is.” 
“A-and Max…?” You manage to say around your heavy breathing. “H-he wouldn’t mind if you… if we-” 
“Max is indeed very special to me - more so than any mortal. But he and I are not…” Charles trails off as a predatory gleam sharpens his enticing smirk. “Exclusive.” 
Fuck, that does absolutely nothing to help. Your body continues to run away from the protests of your mind, not helped by the teasing caress of his nimble fingers. A shiver ripples across your skin as you fight for clarity. “You’re not playing fair.” 
Another delicious chuckle sounds in Charles’ throat. “No, I’m not, am I? One is never too old - or undead - to not press their advantage.” His hand turns against your arm and his fingertips brush the exposed skin of your forearm. A shuddering sigh passes your lips as his chilly touch races more shivers through you. Your thighs clench together with aching need, unable to understand the strong reaction of your body. 
Your breath catches in your throat as the sofa dips under his shifting weight. The heady weight of his thigh brushes yours, and an intoxicating scent reaches your nose… fucking fuck, why does he have to smell so good? You want to chase the spicy, woodsy scent across his skin, to breathe it deep in your lungs. Your eyes drop closed as it invades your senses, further fogging your brain. 
Charles’ fingers dance around your wrist, stroking the thin, tender skin covering the major blood vessels beneath. “You still have a choice, cara mia.” His voice washes over you like rich syrup. “You just need to tell me what you want.”  
Whatever resistance your mind can summon drowns under the urgent rush of blood pounding in your ears, and… at least, this is on your terms. Mostly. With a trembling breath, you slowly nod. “Y-yes… alright.” 
He growls low in approval. “I’m honored, cara mia.” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze before threading his fingers over the back of your hand and interlacing them together. 
You squeeze his hand, finding more reassurance in his touch than you ever expected despite the chilly temperature of his skin. Again, he shifts closer to you, and your heart races as he looms over you - so controlled, so dark, so fucking gorgeous. 
“Breathe for me,” he whispers in a velvet pur. “Just breathe.” 
You draw a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding of your heart. Can he hear it? Does he know how it threatens to beat out of your chest?  
The cool press of his nose against your cheek makes you gasp and involuntarily arch into his touch. Every part of your body responds to his close presence and cries out for more, so much more. 
“That’s it,” he coos, nuzzling down the line of your jaw as you helplessly tilt your head. “You are such a treasure.” 
A whimper passes your lips as you drown under his voice. His lips dance along the column of your throat and you squeeze his hand, rewarded when he tightens his grip in response. 
His teeth slice through your skin like butter. The sharp, invasive pain lances through you and a gasping cry lodges in your throat. His lips seal around the wounds, and pleasure slams through you as he draws your blood. Your body twitches against the couch in desperate need, moaning with abandon as mindless euphoria overtakes you. You cling tight to his hand, lost to everything that floods your body as he takes another long, slow drink. Your other hand finds the silky locks of his hair, holding him close, grasping for contact - for leverage to get your body closer to his. 
The piercing sting of his teeth withdraws and a needy whimper pitches high in your throat. A bereft sense of loss spreads through you, and you cling tighter to him, trying to chase that delicious high. His tongue finds your skin, dragging over the twin punctures with solid, steady strokes that do nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 
You don’t recognize the sound of your own ragged breathing as he continues to lick and nuzzle at your skin. You also don’t recognize the light-headed dizziness that dances in your head, nor how you seem to be floating six feet above the couch. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. 
And you haven’t even orgasmed. Or, at least, you don’t think so. 
Charles gives your hand a gentle squeeze as it relaxes in his grip. “Thank you, cara mia.” He nuzzles your jaw with a satisfied hum. “I don’t think you’ll regret your decision.” 
“Wha…” The word dies on your tongue, slurred as you struggle to think through the sensations overloading your body. 
Charles shushes you gently, pressing a wet, sticky kiss to your cheek. “You should rest. I understand the first time is… quite intense.” Another press of his lips follows as your eyelids grow heavy and darkness cuts the corners of your mind. “That’s it, cara mia. Rest now, and I’ll see to it that you get home.” 
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The sounds of the cavern deafen him. Max still isn’t used to his heightened hearing and each drip of water, each scrape of pebbles against stone, each whistle of wind grates on his nerves. He doesn’t consider patience to be one of his strengths, but at least, he doesn’t need a torch in this godforsaken underground labyrinth. 
“There’s nothing here, Charles.” He says without preamble as they take in the dark stone surroundings. “The soldier lied to us.” 
“Can you blame him?” Charles counters, unbothered by Max’s irritation. His smile still glints in the damp darkness and his eyes glow with the thrill of exploration. Max can’t explain why Charles’ breathtaking beauty continues to stun him, but he finds himself falling all over again. Charles blinks down to the ground, scuffing at a small puddle as he continues. “I’m glad there is nothing stored here, though. This humid environment would be terrible for the artwork.” 
Max snorts before he can stop himself. “It’s remarkable how much you care - actually care - about the artwork.” 
“It’s clear the Nazis only see it as a means to an end, or a bargaining chip.” Charles says, his voice echoing off the stone cave. “Just because we haven't heard of them ransoming treasures doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.” 
“Why ransom when they can just sell?” Max scoffs. “Or take it for free and turn a profit? Nothing has stopped them yet.” 
“Nor will it.” Charles agrees as he looks back over at Max in the darkness. “Not until they consume everything worth consuming.” 
Dripping water echoes off the stone walls and cold humidity eats at their skin, but when Charles holds him with such a tender gaze, Max finds it hard to care about anything else. His feet crunch against loose stone and earth as he steps close to Charles and wraps his chilled fingers in a gentle handhold. “Is it a bad joke to say that your fingers feel as cold as death?” 
The corner of Charles’ mouth ticks up. “That is most definitely a bad joke, but we are undead men together so that shouldn’t bother you.” 
“I never said it did.” Max gives Charles’ hand a squeeze as he hums low in his throat. “In fact, quite the opposite. It’s hard to steal time away with you, you know.” 
An endearingly modest smile takes over Charles’ face. “There is a war going on, you know? Even for immortals, opportunity waits for no one.” 
Max nearly rolls his eyes. “You sound like Seb.” 
“Perhaps you should learn to listen better to him.” Charles’ voice drops to a silky, deliberately teasing register. “We both owe him a lot.” 
“I don’t owe him shit.” Max says, raising his other hand to Charles’ chin and pressing against the delicate skin to raise the other man’s head. “When I lay there dying - when I begged for help - you were the only one. Not any of those soldiers, not Seb - you.” 
“I’m still sorry that I couldn’t give you the choice.” 
“Stop apologizing for that. I asked for help and you helped - simple as that.” 
Fond appreciation warms Charles’ mesmerizing eyes before he leans it and effortlessly slots his mouth to Max’s. The kiss transcends words, stirring the passion and possession that overtakes them both during stolen moments together. Arousal heats Max’s frigid veins as Charles’ tongue pries at the seam of his lips and their embrace deepens. A low growl pitches in Max’s throat as they devour each other. 
Opportunity may wait for no one, but surely Max can take time to press Charles against the uneven stone, to hear his ragged moans echo in the cavern, to let their bodies chase pleasure together in the dark underground.
An answering growl stirs in Charles’ chest and Max abandons Charles’ chin to skim his fingers down the pale column of his neck. He rolls his hips forward, pressing them tight to Charles with shameless abandon. “Let me have you,” Max breathes into Charles’ mouth. “Let me fuck you raw.” 
“Oh, fuck,” Charles gasps as his hips match Max’s with an answering thrust. “That would feel so good right now.” 
“Better than good.” Max murmurs, nipping along Charles’ lips. “I’ll make you-” 
“There’s something happening on the road.” Seb’s voice echoes in the stone chamber, slicing through the lustful fog. “Get out here. Now.” 
Frustration stabs Max in the chest, but once he separates from Charles, he can understand that this isn’t necessarily the most appropriate moment. But, dammit, they’ve been searching the cavernous underworld beneath the multitude of mountain ranges in the Northern Limestone Alps for weeks now. Each major retreat of Nazi squadrons narrows the search. Each desperate attempt by men on the losing side to thwart the forward advance of the victors yields more clues. 
They’re so close to the Nazi central storage location, Max can almost taste it. 
In the moment, though, he only has the fading memory of Charles’ kiss lingering on his tongue as they navigate their way out of the cave. If the diehard Nazi troops in the region are stirring up a scene at this late hour, then it must truly be something noteworthy. 
The glow of moonlight blinds him for an instant as his eyes adjust and he surveys the scene on the road. A truck trundles along the rutted path without headlights, but the glow of one lone torch hangs out the passenger window. Usually, the Nazi troops don’t try to hide their presence - with a string of labor camps near Ebensee and confirmed rumors of Nazi stockpiles near Totes Gebirge - they all but own the surrounding Salzkammergut Mountains. However, the men in this truck clearly don’t wish to be seen - even by their own kind. 
Charles crouches low, squinting into the distance. “Now where could they possibly be going at this hour?”
Seb tilts his head as he stares at the truck. “Somewhere they don’t want anyone to see.” 
“Then, they shouldn’t use a truck.” Max says with a shake of his head. “They’d be less conspicuous on foot.” 
“This road is so rural,” Seb counters. “There’s no one that they would expect to find here.” 
Charles’ smirk gleams in the moonlight. “Except us.” 
Max matches his smirk. “Unlucky bastards.” 
They move in the night, swift as shadows and just as silent. Of all his heightened vampiric senses, the supernatural strength and agility that infused his muscles has to be Max’s favorite. While the sharpened vision and enhanced hearing are useful, when it comes to trailing their Nazi quarry… well, Max takes every advantage that he can get.  
It’s only when they close the distance, easily close enough to strike, that Seb comes to a deliberate stop. A stab of confused disappointment lances through Max as he stops in tandem silence with Charles, both glancing towards the older vampire. He doesn’t use words, but none of them need to. 
The soldiers tell their own story as they cluster around the shrouded, rocky outcropping at the base of the mountains. Seb calls this range Totes Gebirge - Dead Mountains - and Max has to agree it’s aptly fitting. The jagged, rocky surroundings support almost no vegetation and honestly, it’s going to be a suitable grave for these soon-to-be dead men. 
Between the atrocities he witnessed at home and the inhumane horrors of the Nazi camps, Max has no qualms about dispatching anyone who wears the swastika. And the longer he watches the group of six men stand around the rocks, the more his frustration grows. 
Seb turns towards him, silently raising a hand - a sign to stay calm, to hold position. Max may never have been a soldier given the Netherlands’ neutrality, but his time in the Resistance taught him plenty. He grits his teeth, running his thumb over the round, knobbed end of the spike dagger in his pocket. Despite the prowess of his physical strength and sharp teeth, he’s never broken the habit of relying on his dagger for the dirty work often required in spycraft. 
Like Seb, he turns his attention back to the soldiers, watching as three of them turn and disappear into the shadows of the mountain… into a cave, he realizes. The situation turns more curious as voices raise in clear disagreement, in clear alarm and anger. When the men return, two of them labor under a heavy load. Their backs stoop low as they manhandle a long, curved tube, a tube… outfitted with aerial fins. 
Charles’ near silent gasp reaches his ears as realization hits him, too. It’s an aircraft bomb. Is this some secret Nazi weapon stockpile? Or are these men thieves in the night? It seems hard to believe such a small detachment would be out so late for an official supply run. Especially in a truck with no headlights. 
Seb’s fangs flash in the night, and the reasons for the soldiers’ presence hardly matters. He leads the stealthy charge forward, and Max follows with an eager willingness to spring into action. His spike dagger whispers in the darkness as the sharp end finds soft flesh and the solid knobbed end meets delicate skulls. 
As the last body falls and silence reigns supreme, it’s honestly annoying how loud humans are without even trying. Slipping the spike dagger back in his pocket, Max nudges one of the dead soldiers out of the way and crouches down to study the missile. Up close, the weapon’s precisely crafted shape betrays its true, lethal purpose. He shakes his head, knocking a knuckle against the metal casing with a dull metallic thud. “An airplane bomb,” he says, glancing up into the cave’s crudely-formed, dark opening. “How many more do you suppose they have in there?” 
Despite the rocky ground and loose pebbles, Charles moves on near-silent footsteps. “Only one way to find out. Though, why would they store such arms here and not in a depot… there’s not an airfield within kilometers of here. Nor a factory.” 
“Animals on the run grow desperate,” Seb says as he studies the mouth of the cave opening. “And they seldom use logic. With the Allied advance bearing down on them, I don’t doubt that they’re hiding what they can wherever they can, even if there’s no rationale to it.” 
Max pushes to his feet. “If this is really where they’re storing missiles, then it hardly seems efficient to have such a small crew carry them out one by one.” 
“And in the dead of the night,” Charles continues. “In a vehicle where they refused to use the headlights… perhaps they were planning a secret bombing run?” 
Seb snorts as he ducks to enter the opening and his voice echoes off stone. “That sounds too fantastical for the Nazis. Soldiers stealing bombs and planes in an act of sedition.” 
Affront wrinkles Charles’ brow as Max walks to the opening and crouches down to follow Seb inside. “Well, what else would you call it?” Charles continues as he crouches down next to Max’s side. “Taking just one missile won’t change the course of war, non - but dropping just one bomb? The right bomb, on the right target could disrupt, demoralize, deorganize...”
Seb chuckles softly as the dark stone interior closes around them and the air grows stale. “By that logic, we should take that bomb and drop it on Hitler ourselves, yes?” 
“Then, why don’t we?” Max hears himself answer as faint light glistens in mineral crystals as they descend the subterranean tunnel. “That’s what I’ve said since the beginning - there’s nothing stopping us from just getting close and hitting him and his men in the dead of night. Let’s end this now.” 
“It’s never that simple.” Seb counters with a scolding shake of his head. “Exposing our kind to the world like that… for the humans, ignorance is bliss. And we are the guardians of the truth’s ugliness.” 
The air grows heavy with briny salt as they move deeper into the mountain, boots crunching against the hard rock. Charles hums low in his throat. “The price of immortality, non?” 
Truthfully, Max has little patience when Charles and Seb wax poetically about the state of mortals and immortals. Despite whatever philosophical ideas they entertain about truth and beauty and everything between - it changes nothing about the here and now. It bends none of the rules that Max supposedly has to follow. It alters nothing about the state of his undead existence or the fate of mortals who wage their horrendous war and steadily march towards self-destruction. 
The ground slopes away, suddenly steeper under his feet, and distracts his focus. They brace against the rocky, jagged walls, slowing their steps as they approach a wall… a wall where the tunnel ends? Or perhaps it continues through the narrow, carved opening.  
Max eyes the opening in the wall ahead cautiously. “I don’t like that this is beginning to feel like a trap.” 
“A trap makes no sense,” Seb rationalizes, crouching down to study the dramatically shorter tunnel opening. “Why would the Nazis trap themselves, hmm?” 
“Why wouldn’t they plant booby traps to keep others out, hmm?” Max counters sharply. “Perhaps that’s what that bomb was, yeah? Protecting something else that they didn’t want others to discover?” 
Charles’ eyes brighten with intrigue. “And why not? The salt in the air creates a much more stable environment for storage. Perhaps this is a hidden weapons depot or a… a treasure storage.” 
“Only one way to find out.” Seb braces a hand against the shorter tunnel opening and moves forward, knees bent and back hunched as he disappears into the darkness. 
Max wets his top lip impatiently. “How long does it look, Seb?” 
A beat of silence passes with only a faint whistle of wind for company. His brow furrows with immediate concern. “Seb?” He calls out again, staring down at the tunnel opening as if willing the older vampire to emerge. 
Charles’ voice mimics his concern. “Seb? Is everything all right?” He kneels down, squinting into the opening and tilting his head with sudden curiosity. “Seb just… what is it?” 
Max crouches down, needing to see for himself - and discovering that the new tunnel was more just a narrow opening in the rock. Seb blocks the other side, clearly stunned and frozen by whatever sight lays on the other side. 
“Scheiße,” Seb breathes, his voice low. “This is… I just… I can’t believe what I’m looking at.” 
Both Charles and Max scramble for the tunnel entrance at the same time, and Charles squeezes in ahead of him. He pushes gently at Seb’s back, and the blonde vampire moves to let Charles come through with Max right behind him. Perched on a gently sloping ledge, an expansive salt cavern extends in front of them - something clearly mined by humans, something still occupied by humans. 
Or at least, human treasure. 
Crates upon crates, boxes upon boxes, stacks upon stacks, and piles upon piles of cultural riches lay before them. Artwork, books, statues, illustrations, tapestries - all hidden away from the world and ripe for discovery. Max doesn’t register his jaw dropping as he scans the sea of priceless treasures in front of him.
Is this it? Is this what they’ve been searching for? 
Charles lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. “Mamma mia… there’s so much here! I don’t.. I don’t even know where to begin!” He runs a hand through his hair, wetting his top lip with eager excitement.
Seb shakes his head. “Perhaps you were right, Max,” he muses, glancing over with a fond smile. “Perhaps they were going to booby trap that entrance. Or perhaps they were just going to detonate anyway and forever bury this hoard of cultural wealth.” 
“I have to get down there.” Charles says, turning his gaze towards the ledge and testing his footing on the descent. “We can’t just let this all go to waste.” 
“We won’t.” Max agrees, following Charles into action and securing a handhold to work down the ledge. “If only the Nazis know this is here, we have the advantage. We can do as we please.” 
Seb’s smile curls in the darkness as he follows them down to the collection of artwork that will forever change their undead existence. “And we certainly will.”  
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