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#THANK U TO WHOEVER MADE HIS DESIGN

raspberryjars · 11 months

Note

Can you do a Designer! Miles and Model! Hobie?

little snippet so far!! (u can except more to be posted either this weekend or next week x)

Lights flashed from all corners of the room as he put one foot in front of the other, steadily making his way down the catwalk. He could feel the loose, chainmail-esk vest bush against his skin as he moved his arms slightly, leaving a pattern of goosebumps in their wake. The large clunky boots he’d been handed were cool as well, big and powerful, maybe something he'd wear in his day-to-day, if they weren’t ridiculously expensive.

Whoever the designer was for this collection though, they were definitely cool. Lots of street wear, baggy jeans, large jackets, trainers and that, but also more punk elements to things, for example his chainmail vest. And he’d seen a girl ahead of him with liberty spikes. One of the other guys too, he’d had loads of patches all over his pants. He liked to imagine the designer as someone chill, maybe tall, definitely a similar music taste to himself. Maybe they’d be pretty similar over all. Seemed like it by the look of the garments and styling.

He turned on his heel and strode back up towards the entrance/exit for models. Not turning off his walk until he was definitely out of sight of any crowds.

As soon as he knew he was safe from any guests, he stopped where he stood and slouched his shoulders, taking a deep breath in through the nose as he slowly made his way to where the others should be sitting around. It was probably his favourite part, the moments right after the runway. When everyone was pretty tired, but still riding that high. It was always fun to hear about what mishaps had taken place too.

So when Hobie pushed through the plastic swinging door and saw his sort of co-workers sitting around on different chairs and tables he didn’t think much of it. He just scanned the room for a spare seat before sitting himself down next to Gayatri. He quickly scanned her outfit, tall knee length boots, a short chequered skirt, a tight black, sort of mesh-y top and a big puffer jacket. Lots of chains, charms and belts had been slung round her neck or tied round her waist, looking messily organised. Her hair had been slicked back and her eyes had been outlined in kohl, making her eyes look a lot more imposing than usual.

“Sick look.” He smiled. He meant it too, he did really like a lot of the designs.

“Thanks Hobie, I could say the same to you.” She smiled slightly, eyes skimming what he was wearing.

“Well, I can’t take credit.” He laughed, casting his eyes around the room. Two more models had come in, one of which was staring quite obviously in their direction.

“Hey, look, you’ve got an admirer.” Hobie whispered, a slight laugh in his voice.

“Oh calm down, like you don’t?” Gayatri smirked back, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head in the direction of the door.

Hobie turned his head to see someone standing in the doorway, someone with an oversized collared red shirt, and some baggy black fatigues. He was looking around with a certain look on his face, one Hobie couldn’t place. And no offence to the guy, but he didn’t exactly look like a model, he just looked slightly plain compared to the room full of accessorised models in chunky platforms. Plus the guy was absolutely not tall enough for a runway, again, no offence.

But he did look cool, he had some silver studs and a thin silver ring in his nose, plus his choice of smart business wear looked pretty casual which he had to respect. And he looked like he loved the collection. It was just confusing thinking about why he was actually back here. He didn’t have a pass around his neck or anything, and he definitely wasn’t tech, too dressed up.

Maybe a friend of someone’s? Who knew honestly, not him, and to be honest, he wasn’t too bothered. The guy looked happy enough. And Hobie had never minded a few stares, what was one more pair of eyes? Beautiful, big, brown eyes, but still. Not anything too unusual.

The last few models slipped in through the doors and suddenly the guy from the doorway wasn’t standing there, and just as Hobie was scanning the room for him, he was making his way down the hallway.

#raspberryjars #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #punkflower #miles spiderman #miles morales

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kodaiki · 1 year

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mistletoe mayhem.

summary: christmas traditions are always a joy to celebrate. you genuinely love making the gingerbread houses, seeing the christmas lights, and putting up all the holiday decorations. but why the hell are there so many mistletoe hanging from your friends' apartment?

pairing: fem!reader x bokuto kotaro

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers, christmas!theme, mutual pining, fluff

wc: 3k

a/n: totally forgot to repost this closer to the holidays but here you go!! hasn't been edited since 2020 so beware <333

“thanks for helping out,” hinata grins when he opens the front door of his apartment. his smile says, ‘welcome! come on in!’ but his eyes, wide and...is that fatigue? say ‘PLEASE, heLP.’

“please, even with four of you living here, I knew you’d need extra help,” you chuckle, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes. you shiver slightly as hinata closes the door behind you, allowing a gust of wind finds its way back to your already cold cheeks. you loved seeing snow on the ground around the holidays, but it’s moments when you have to travel in it that you lightly regret the wish for it.

amongst your friends, an annual holiday party always occurred as a big get-together to catch up with one another. this year it just so happens to be at four of your friends’ shared place. the msby resident dummies + sakusa’s place, as others liked to call it. you’d frown upon it but the fact that the three designated dummies announce themselves as that let you know that they’re not hurt by it. (sakusa’s quite pleased that whoever came up with the nickname made a point to exclude him from the trio.)

sheepishly smiling, hinata nods in agreement. “you’re probably right.”

“where’s everyone?” you ask over your shoulder while hanging your coat in the closet.

you’re so used to the other boys acting like dogs at the sound of the front door opening, running at you in anticipation. now that you think about it, bokuto did tackle you to the ground (accidentally) at one point. right now, a rough hour before the party of the year, everyone seemed to be focused on getting all the preparations ready.

“atsumu’s on a call with osamu about food, sakusa is cleaning the bathroom...again, and bokuto should be -”

“y/n! y-you’re here already!” he’s tripping over himself as he runs out from a room, tugging a shirt over his head to look the least bit presentable.

you turn around at the voice, a smile already making its way on your face. “’course I am!” he meets you halfway in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed ya,” bokuto murmurs into the crook of your neck, shutting his eyes.

“it’s only been a few weeks,” you laugh, lightly rubbing his back comfortingly.

“two weeks is a long time.”

“well,” you muse, lifting your hand to pinch his cheek lovingly, “i’m here now.”

he visibly relaxes and slightly leans into your touch before abruptly stiffening. you don’t notice that his eyes are trained on hinata’s who’s looking at him, making kissy faces. he quickly reaches for your shoulders to pull himself back and hold you at arms length, sheepishly smiling at your look of concern. “u-uhm, i should go! ... y’know, get back to hanging the banners...”

before you could ask if any aid from you was needed, he’s already walking away from you backwards, jabbing his thumb in a direction behind him. you simply nod blankly, suppressing the slight frown that’s itching to spread on your face from how quickly he pushed himself off of you.

“so,” you turn back to hinata who’s smiling knowingly for a reason you don’t quite know. “where do i start?”

“you can come with me to help ‘tsumu in the kitchen! unless you wanna help bokuto-”

“all good here!” bokuto’s voice is an echo from an unknown part of the house and you feel your heart sink slightly. okay then.

shaking your head, brushing off the feeling, you face hinata. “wait, did you say atsumu?” you deadpan, “in the kitchen?”

“dont worry~” hinata smiles lazily, waving his hand, “osamu is telling him what to do.”

you nod and follow behind him, occasionally snickering at some of the photos hung on the walls. they weren’t the traditional photos where the boys would pose nicely beside one another. no, they were mostly from different angles, embarrassing poses and the frames had been vandalized decorated with different colored sharpies.

as you approach the kitchen, a familiar green plant hanging from the arched doorway makes your steps slow and you take a moment to ponder it.

“huh,” you look up in wonder, “i thought it was a tradition to have one mistletoe?” your eyebrows slightly furrow and you instinctively turn your head back to where the front door was. a sparkling mistletoe hung just above the space where shoes go, directly beside where the coat rack stood.

hinata hums in agreement. “yeah, it is.”

“then why have i seen two so far?”

“wh-what?”

“there’s one by the front door and now here.”

lifting a curious brow, he follows the direction you’re pointing in to take a look for himself. “i’m pretty sure we bought only one...” hinata trails off, scratching his temple in thought. he shrugs after a few seconds and carries on walking to the kitchen, ready to greet atsumu with a grin. he’s standing in front of the stove with a phone tucked in the space between his ear and right shoulder.

“look who’s here!” hinata shakes you by the shoulders in glee.

atsumu turns around and you notice his furrowed brows soften as a smile stretches across his face. “’samu, give me a sec,” he speaks into his phone before straightening his neck. “y/n!”

you smile back, returning the hug the bigger man engulfed you in. following your greetings and a brief casual conversation, you can hear osamu grow impatient over the phone. he’d been on his break at his onigiri shop and his twin stalling his free time was not the way he wanted to spend his time. only did his tone lighten when you greeted him through the receiver.

“right,” atsumu snaps his fingers as if just remembering he’d been on the phone with his brother, “ok, ‘samu go on.”

the three of you continue working in the kitchen, where atsumu attempts to make the main course while you and hinata arrange several appetizer plates.

“you know bo is going to finish these before anyone shows up, right?” you raise a knowing brow, lifting a toothpick with some cheese stuck on the end of it.

“yeah,” hinata admits, “that’s why we’re making double the amount. we’re hiding the other plates in the fridge,”

“ah,” you nod. “good thinking.”

“i heard my name!”

bokuto’s head pops out from behind the doorway leading to the kitchen, looking between the three of you owlishly. he’s about to ask what exactly you’re talking about when his eyes fall on the plate in front of you. “ooh, cheese!” he shuffles over and grabs three toothpicks and shoves the cheese in his mouth with a satisfied smile.

you and hinata share a pointed look.

“are the banners ready?” hinata asks after watching bokuto eat four more cheese-sticks.

“mhm,” he hums with a proud, toothless smile. “all done.”

“great, well, we’re just waiting on ‘tsumu and then that’s it,” hinata smiles in relief. the party was to start in a half hour or so, so to be on time with setting up was considered an achievement for the orange haired boy.

two hours later, you’re caught between conversations with different people, some you’ve met before and some new faces you’ve only heard the name of in a conversation. (you finally met the famous kageyama and plan to matchmake him and hinata by the end of the night ;D)

on your way to refill your glass, a familiar mop of disarray hair peaks your attention.

“kuroo, hey!”

“y/n~” kuroo greets with a lazy smile, lightly patting your head. “how’ve you been?”

“eh, you know how it is. good days and bad days,” you shrug with a dismissive smile.

“definitely know what you’re saying,” he huffs with a nod.

“how’s the office?”

you met kuroo at the holiday party a year ago through bokuto. you remember how excited he was, putting kuroo in a near choke-hold just so you could meet one of his very best friends. (you glance over at akaashi when he says this and he simply nods giving you a clear look saying, ‘i’m the other best friend.’)

“doing well, lots of paperwork though,” he says before catching sight of something behind you. before you can take a look for yourself, he asks, “hey, you’re over at the boys’ place often, right?”

quirking an eyebrow at his inquiry, you nod unsurely, “i guess? bo invites me to movies night pretty often so i tend to visit a lot.”

“he does, does he? now, may i ask, do you know that-”

“y/n!” bokuto appears beside you, lightly grasping your elbow, bringing you out of your conversation with kuroo.

kuroo smiles wickedly at bokuto whose cheeks are flushed from embarrassment, already knowing where kuroo was going with his question. fortunate for him, you just think it’s from the alcohol.

“hey bokuto.”

“kuroo,” bokuto’s head quickly whips toward the tall man in front of you, “i think kenma’s calling for you.”

raising his hands in surrender, kuroo sighs, “ok, ok. i guess i’ll just go...and find kenma.”

“mhm, yes you should,” bokuto nods vigorously. kuroo gives him a final look and you’re sure they’re having some sort of mental conversation because neither of them look away until kuroo smiles and turns away.

“are you guys okay?” you ask when kuroo leaves. “that was kinda weird.”

“we’re fine!” bokuto grins, gently guiding you throughout the house. “so tell me, updates?”

“updates?” you repeat, knitting your brows together.

“since i last saw you! work, home, i don’t know.” he’s rubbing the back of his neck by the end of his statement. cogs start turning in your head but you’re still unable to put your finger on why everything seems so suspicious lately; hinata’s knowing smiles, bokuto’s obvious nervousness (?), kuroo’s smirk which is more mischievous than usual, what could it all mean?

“oh, well ah, not much? i caught up on that show i was telling you about,” you shrug, “besides that, life’s been pretty boring.”

as you speak, he’s still walking with you, occasionally stopping to look around nonchalantly.

yeah, you’re definitely missing something.

“hm” he hums in acknowledgement, shoving his hands into his pockets and begins lightly rocking on his heels. what’s the point in asking if you’re not even paying attention?

“bo, are you o-”

“huh, that’s funny,” bokuto cuts you off, pointing up toward the ceiling, “mistletoe.”

you freeze, eyes slowly trailing up to the ceiling where, yes, a nicely hung mistletoe was, adorned with pretty red ribbon.

but...

you’re standing in a spot you and hinata passed earlier and where there was no mistletoe hung then.

hold on a second.

your eyes squint as you look back down at bokuto and analyze his sheepish grin and red ears. “uh-huh. strange, don’t you think?”

“strange?” his eyes grow in wonder. “why strange?”

“because i could’ve sworn it wasn’t there when i walked in...”

“hmmm, that is strange,” bokuto quickly agrees, rubbing his chin. “maybe ‘tsumu is trying to get some or somethi-”

“-alright mister, fess up. i know it’s you who’s putting up all the mistletoe,” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

that had to be it, right?

you recall the numerous other times bokuto stopped in the house and you can bet that if you look back, there’d be mistletoe hung somewhere around you.

“wh-what? no, it’s not!” the blush that travels from his ears to his cheeks is enough confirmation.

you cross your arms, giving a pointed expression. after a moment of the two of you staring at each other, he slouches.

“yeah, it was me. i just...i didn’t know how to...so it’d be easier...and then..yeah.”

“you put up all that mistletoe and intended on staying with me for the entirety of the party and the eventually, inevitably, be under the mistletoe together...right?”

he pouts but nods, “...yeah.”

you’d known bokuto for almost two years now now but recently – well, the past few visits, at least – you’ve noticed something slightly off. when you sit beside him on the couch, he’s unnaturally stiff and more aware of his positions.

whereas two months ago, this guy would be totally comfortable draping his legs over yours or laying his head in your lap innocently, now even a slight brush of limbs gets him red and apologetic so quickly.

you weren’t sure if you’d done something wrong or he was going through something but to have that level of intimacy, albeit you were just friends, just end so quickly hurt.

you contemplated the reason for frequently yet you could never come to an answer because even though alone, he was more distanced and to himself, he could also be the same bokuto you met months ago. his hugs stayed warm, his smiles stayed bright, and his words stayed true.

but watching him shuffle his feet, staring down at the floor so you could only see his red ears, it all seems to click.

there’s another beat of silence between the two of you.

“y’know, if you just wanted to kiss me, you coulda just asked,” you mumble, feeling a blush of your own paint your cheeks.

“i wanted to be smooth.”

the utter seriousness of his voice makes you laugh and he finally looks up at you.

“your smoothness isn’t going to change how i feel about you.”

his head bobs up to face you again. “it isn’t?”

boldly, you take a step closer to him and you voice falls to a whisper. “no.”

you hear his breath hitch in his throat and your own heart begins to race. thank goodness bokuto decided to mention the mistletoe in a spot no one was around in because if you had an audience right now, you’d simply die from the embarrassment of being teased and hollered at.

he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours for a quick peck. just as quickly as your lips meet, they pull away. bokuto’s entire face has gone red at this point and he’s staring into your eyes with a rather worried expression.

but after seeing the small smile grow on your face and your own flushed cheeks, a large grin appears and he leans in, this time with more fervor. he holds your face with big hands, bringing you closer so you’re snug against his torso. he leans the two of you slightly forward so he’s holding you up and the only thing keeping you from falling is your firm grip on his dress shirt, which was once nicely steamed. yep, creases were definitely to be shown after this.

it’d be a lie if you said you never thought of your friend in a romantic light.

especially when he traps you in between his beefy arms in a hug. especially when he allows you to talk his ear off to your heart’s content. especially when he brings you snacks and movies during your time of the month.

hell, how could you not notice you were treating bokuto like your boyfriend already?

“okay, bo, i get it,” you giggle as he peppers kisses on every inch of your face.

“can’t. stop. need. to. make. up. for. lost. time.” he leans away at the last word, bringing you back to your feet. the blush on his face is slightly faded, his nerves obviously dissipated, but his grin remains the widest you’ve ever seen. lifting a hand, he lightly caresses your cheek.

“you don’t know how much i’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs, blinking slowly.

“what took you so long then?” your voice is soft as you lean your cheek further into his palm. funny that now you were the one blushing like a tomato.

“i...i didn’t want to mess up anything we had.”

you understand his reasoning. the two of you did meet through akaashi, your coworker in your workplace, and your relationship began as strictly platonic. while bokuto didn’t have time to date, you simply weren’t ready for a relationship.

the two of you grew closer soon after your meeting until you eventually became a core part of bokuto’s life.

you don’t remember exactly when your feelings for him blossomed but you’re definitely aware of them now.

“this means you like me too, right?” he pauses and freezes in place.

rolling your eyes, you tilt you head. “yes, dummy.”

he leans in again to peck your lips once more before you stop him.

“wait...how many mistletoe did you hang up around the house throughout the night?”

bokuto lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down. looking back up, he sheepishly smiles, “twelve?”

“twelve!?” you repeat, widening your eyes.

“kuroo said the more opportunities, the better!” he defends with a whine.

“ah, kuroo was a part of this plan?” you muse, raising an eyebrow. now the suspicious behavior between the two of them made sense.

“he gave me the idea,” he mumbles, “and he said he’d tell you if i didn’t hurry up and kiss you already...gotta thank him, though.”

“guess we do,” you smile, running your hands along his chest in attempt to flatten out wrinkle marks on his dress shirt. you sigh when it does no help.

you don’t notice the way his lips twitch up in amusement at your slight frustration. “it’s fine. it was bound get messed up at some point. whether it be a salsa stain or wrinkles.”

you laugh, looking back up at him.

“so,” he steps away from you, offering his hand for you to hold. “shall we?”

“shall we what?” you ask, cautiously taking his hand.

“make our debut as cutest couple, of course,” he grins with a wink, “oh! and to kiss you under all the other mistletoe. i didn’t spend all that money to not put it to use.”

“dork,” you mumble but allow him to guide you through the house, only this time shouting, ‘this is my girlfriend now!’ at every face he passes.

(cue you blushing at the knowing wink kuroo sends you and the thumbs up akaashi sends.)

but hey, throughout all this mistletoe madness, you snagged a boyfriend you know will shower you in all the love and affection you could ever desire.

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floof-ghostie · 1 year

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casually leans on wall and hands you a microphone. how was the spiderverse experience i want all the deets (ive already watched it dw about spoilers👍🏾)

Ohhhh Strap in we're gonna be here for a while (Imma do this in point form for this, because so many thoughts, no energy for real paragraphs

Okay the animation. THE ANIMATION MEDIUMS. So many cool methods. I loved the colour changes in Gwen's universe. HOBIE'S ENTIRE THING, THE WAY HE'S ANIMATED OMG

Mumbattan is such a cool city, I love mashing irl cities to make one cool megacity so much it's such a lil fave worldbuilding thing of mine

Pavitr is so great, I love him, idek how to talk about him I just like him a lot. Him and his gf make such a cute pair too!

Also him saying "I don't use product, just coconut oil, prayer, and good genetics". I love him

The chai tea scene. God he's so great

THe character design is amazing and sososososo cool!! I love that we see the characters change (Gwen's hair growing longer and pinker, Miles' growth spurt, Peter B.'s bathrobe, MAYDAY's LIL SPIDER HAT THAT MJ PROLLY MADE FOR HER).

I love Pravitr's costume glowup. Thank you to whoever arranged for that.

Also, Hobie??? His lace coded boots?? His locs??? HIS FUCKING PIERCINGSSS??? HOW HE COMPARED A FUCKING VOID TO CAPITALISM??? Him taking a liking to Mayday, and straight up SHOWING MILES HOW TO GET OUT OF THE FORCE FIELD WITH A LIL SMIRK?!!! I need him. Need his gender. I love his anarchist ass.

His design really calls back to the punk scene in England, and I love the way he reminds me of old newspapers

Speaking of Hobie, holy shit that guy was flirting with Miles. I know what you are (pls Hobie do u like enbies?)

"I hate the AM, I hate the PM (prime minister probably, idk for sure) AND I HATE LABELS" I love you

Daniel Kaluuya, thank you for your service.

Also Hobie and Gwen make such a funny friendship. But I don't ship them.

The themes of growing up, and Miles' parents being worried about Miles and the people he's with...I nearly cried in the theatre, and I don't normally cry during stuff.

You can just tell that black people were making the big decisions for this movie. Aaron and Rio asking Miles why he took the braids out. Jeff and Rio being like "On time means 5 minutes early", I felt so at home watching this movie. I'm not even from Brooklyn but I just felt so at home at all the interactions Miles had with his neighbors. Even the random storeowner.

Like ppl were speaking aave, using patois, Hobie's accent. And none of that was played for laughs (except for Hobie's lingo but that's a little different bc he's British)

I love how Miles' Ganke is so different from Peter Parker's Ganke. It's such a fun detail how Miles' Ganke was like "I'm not gonna be your guy in the chair".

I love that despite the general "Canon" for Spider Man, there are some differences! I love those intricate details!

And the way the lady in the office was so hasty to force the narrative of them "struggling" when that really wasn't the case? Hit real close to home. I just love the Davis-Morales family

I love the way that the Spot isn't like a general "mildly bad" villain like I originally assumed. I really thought he'd be kind of a "setup" villain, or something that they'd have to clean up and THEN Miles would take care of Miguel and them.

I especially love the way that The Spot is someone from the first movie, who we don't even know until his backstory is brought up.

His voice is also perfect too. He sounds like a complete loser.

Miguel O'Hara. Meet me outside, I just wanna talk

No For real though, he talks a lot of shit about Miles being "The Original anomaly" when his ass needs to inject himself with some kinda spider-fluid to maintain his powers??? Mind you, he tried to force himself into a reality that wasn't his.

This guy is just an A-class hater. What do you have against Miles, honestly???

On the subject of the Spider Verse I think it's so cool how there were so many callbacks to the original canon of Spiderman! I loved seeing the og live action Spider Men in the film too!

And the easter eggs! I couldn't keep up with them all!

Also, wtf was Childish Gambino there. I mean I'm not mad, I actually found Miles' staring at him really funny

I love Issa Rae's voice! But Jessica, queen, please don't fight, you is PREGNANT

Also idk why but for some reason I thought Jessica and Miguel were married in the beginning. Not completely sure.

Gwen being like "Can you adopt me?" when first meeting Jessica...She's so real

Also Gwen is so sososososo so so trans. It's so great

THE ENDING FUCKING DESTROYED ME ARE YOU KIDDING???? 42-Miles being the Prowler?? I'M NOT OKAY BUT I'M SO EXCITED to see what happens!!

But in all seriousness, all the feelings in the movie talked about and the the things left unresolved for the next movie is just. You can tell this was such a labour of love and all the animators were so happy and excited to work on it. I cannot wait for Beyond the Spider Verse!! I'm still buzzing!!

#ask #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse

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ikimaru · 2 years

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Hi Sunny! As you're an artist who sells merch, I need your opinion. I like to shop on Redbubble, and there's a lot of cool stuffs, but the design isn't sold by the artist that made it and they don't have a shop. The merch is really cool, but I know that it's stolen art. Do you think it's okay to buy it, or shouldn't I? I mean, I really want it, but I can live without it. What do you think I should do, or what would you do? Thanks, I hope this question doesn't bother you!

hi! generally speaking I don't think most artists would enjoy having their art sold elsewhere without permission 😅 you can try reaching out to the original artist to let them know u found stolen merch if they want to report it, and ask them if they're planning on making it available themselves?

and if they don't plan to, ask if they would mind if you got the other one instead? which.. I mean they would probably say not to do it lmao if there was something stolen of mine available I'd rather report it and make it available myself but u can always ask (also another reason not to get stolen stuff off redbubble: whoever uploaded it probably doesn't have a high res version of the file so the print quality might be bad)

hope this helps!

#Sunnyasks

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eclipsewxtch · 1 year

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bro idk about y’all but what if there was like a celebrity au where robin was a singer — and maybe finney is an actor or something or another singer (it doesn’t matter fr) and like at an award show they were really giving flirty-more-than-friends vibes like— they were just? like u could tell something was going on.

“And the winner for Album of The Year is…. huh, interesting, Robin Arellano!” Finney announces, a smile on his face as he gives a few claps. The crowd screams, clearly finding this — without a shadow of a doubt — the most exciting thing to witness. Robin Arellano was fairly new to the music industry, and yet here he was— breaking records, grabbing awards, and smiling like he was on top of the world.

Robin walks up the stage, with a dazzling little smile, the kind of smile that made Finney’s knees a little weak. His wolf-like grin, one that Finney would absolutely, totally do anything for a it to be directed at him. Whoever Robin’s designer was tonight knew what they were doing, dressing Robin in a red and black ensemble that turned heads and made Finney salivate.

When Robin gets close enough to reach out for the award, and Finney pulls it a little out of reach with a smile on his face. “No hi for me?” He pouts exaggeratedly.

Robin chuckles. “Hey Finn. I’ll be taking that award now.” He reaches out a hand.

“Oh, will you?” Finney jerks it out of reach again, his smile widening. Robin takes a step forward; Finney quirks a brow. He can play this game all day.

Robin rolls his eyes and grabs the mic while Finney generously holds onto the golden award for him. “Okay, okay— Thank you everyone for this award. But to be honest, I might not take the award,” Robin throws a look back at Finney and licks his lips, “I might just take Finney back home with me.”

Finney laughs, “You wish!”

“Oh I do,” Robin agrees, turning back to the crowd, before he starts to thank his mom, his best friends, his fans, and his team endlessly for the support. It’s endearing, funny, and it probably shouldn’t be, but Finney is half-listening to Robin, and half-staring at him. When Robin has finished his genuine speech, he wishes a goodnight to the crowd and turns away, heading back to his seat.

Finney looks at the crowd and winks, making the artists and celebrities scream. He’s already turning away before Robin makes his way off the stage, narrowly escaping Robin dragging him back to the table with him. It would’ve been funny if he had, but Finney needed an outfit change and then he had to host for the rest of the night.

something like that. because— it’s giving we flirt so much that even award shows put us together. like, i can’t tell you how many people on tt probably edited that moment. ITS GIVING CHRISTINA AGUILERA AND EMINEM OH MY GOD

#the black phone #finney and robin #rinney #finney blake #robin arellano #it’s giving christina aguilera and eminem fr #everyone knows #EVERYONE KNOWS THAT THEYRE IN LOVE #i’m going to be insufferable #this is being written as we speak

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vacantgodling · 1 year

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some train master chidori (tmc) notes.

so basically i’m designing every train master with some sort of animal or mythical association to base their outfits, vibe, weapons etc on. so far with the tiny crew i got:

chidori: shark! thanks to whoever mentioned that his weapon (torment) looked like a shark bc it’s canon now djdjdj. i think i may actually change torments handle a bit but we’ll see

solange: pixie! mischievous but packs a punch (i mean she’s got a whole fucking war hammer 💀) her hammer’s name is swarm btw

markis: still trying to decide what route i want to take with him he’s being unnecessarily DIFFICULT. but bc green is his color my brain is like hmm snake or frog… maybe moth? idk we’ll have to see

celebrity boy: who still needs a gd name >.> like why do i know your surname but not your first name u fuck. anyway cough. he’s unicorn coded all the way. i also made an updated art of him yesterday that i like WAY better so i gotta upload that when i get home.

z train master: the assassin dude. i don’t know much about him yet but his color is black and he’s a serious boy so… we’ll see

#i also have a yellow boy floating around and he’s angy #so we’ll see what that’s about #s: train master chidori

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spearxwind · 2 years

Note

choose whoever you want for this but here are my questions >:) 💤🌌📣(specifically the voice claim one)📎🚆

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

You know for all the times I think about my ocs sleeping I can barely come up with an answer. All of them like napping!! Just lie down on the ground curled up with a friend and a loved one and pass the fuck out!!

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Adri was a dream :) I was a fucked up guy and I killed my peers and then got hunted for it. One of the first things I decided for him tho was that he had the confidence and ego of a God (which I had never done before with a character) and uh. You see where he's come to now

Siege was also a monster I saw in my dream and he fucking ate me it was horrible <3 and the first thing i did when i woke up was yoink the design and decide he eats people (as one does)

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

Gonna answer for adri it's Essenger's voice bc i have no self control but also this song makes me terminally crazy in the head bc it's rly himcore. And I can't really imagine him with another voice now (except for adri it sounds mega fucked up rather than normal but u know how it goes)

Also for talas, his voice is super deep so it's probably something like this song (specifically the chorus but ESPECIALLY the bridge at the end where the music just fades to a guitar and you hear the deepest voice. i know songs arent really good references. but im fucking sorry i dont know actors and i refuse to acknowledge them)

However octane is voiced by Critikal :) thanks for coming to my TED talk

I don't really have voice claims for anyone else bc I'm very bad for that :')

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

Knife used to be a street cage fighter before she got literally kidnapped and turned into a weapon!

Siege IS canonically referred to as a 'grandpa' by the locals and its the best decision ive ever made

Connon's ship is called "Fate" because you cannot run from it :)

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

ADRI WOULD BE THE TROLLEY ITSELF, AND BABY HE IS MULTI TRACK DRIFTING!!!

#ask #song rec #oc facts #throwing some challenger deep stuff in here and some random facts from the faves bc i default to adri whenever idk what to say lmao #i just like a heem #oc ramble

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chocosvt · 3 years

Text

love café

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t believe he was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To a degree, you were correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, you needed access to a computer.

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

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

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

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

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

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

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired. Aching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

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

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

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

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

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

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

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not a big deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah.”

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

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

“The Shower what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Twelve am.

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

However, tonight was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The red velvet cake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

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

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

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

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

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

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

“Later!” He’d called.

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

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

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

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

Joshua bumped your elbow.

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

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

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shush up and try this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

“… What?”

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

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

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

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

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

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

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

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

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

You looked at your alarm clock.

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

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

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

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

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

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

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

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z3nitsusgf · 2 years

Note

WAAAA ive been lurking n quietly supporting ur fics (nearly all of them bc no matter the character or fandom ur writing n concepts have me sobbing throwing up creaming dying reincarnating n dying again)

SOO i rlly wanted to say thank u sm val for constantly supplying us with such good content honestly carrying the genshin dc community 🧎

however as we have pervy nerd albedo and discord mod xiao may i introduce to you closet degenerate kazuha ;;

kazuha the cutesy popular boy that nearly everyone has a crush on, that one guy the teachers adore, the one that turns heads wherever he goes (because c’mon, it’s kazuha! what do you mean you haven’t heard of him!?)— the designated driver who tells u its fine for u to get hammered dw reader, the one you’d trust your drink with n the one who even ur parents would approve of for sleepovers. but whenever you let him crash the night at yours, you always wake up with this weird taste in your mouth. or these few odd times that you woke up with a different pair of panties than the ones you fell asleep in. but it doesn’t matter because hey! look! kazuha made breakfast, what a sweetheart. so when he confesses his feelings to you, how could you refuse? he’s the most lovable boy you’ve ever met, straight husband material. poor little you doesn’t know what’s coming (literally) because all of a sudden, kazuha is sneaking you into empty classrooms telling you it’s fine, no one’s near and railing you so hard you have to skip your next class. sometimes he rambles on about how he finally won’t have to search for porn stars resembling you or how he won’t have to draw nsfw art of you himself (oh c’mon, he had the tools right there, how can you blame him!) kazuha who becomes this somehow adorable yet somewhat concerning overprotective boyfriend has all the tools at his disposal to never make you leave his side again. starting off he’d ruin the reputation of whoever wants to steal you away! oh that albedo guy? yeah, total nerd right? guess what, kazuha told me that he actually is a huge pervert— so gross. now no one even wants to look at him. xiao? oh right! kazuha said he apparently was super aggressive to him! who does he think he is? poor kazuha, he gets so much just for being himself... oh yeah. kazuha is a total mastermind and will do whatever it takes to keep you all to himself.

- 🍡 anon (if its not taken ofc!!!)

OH MY GOD IM GOING FERAL £]€,*\¥.

somno w/ perv kazuha and he’s sneakin into your room late at night, pushing aside your panties and kissing down your thighs. perv kazuha who swears he’s doing it bc he wants to see you happy, just wants a taste! and he’s spreadin your legs apart all slow and soft, making sure not ti wake you up, and he drags his tongue down the seam of your pussy, dipping the tip into your folds and trying not to moan out loud. perv kazuha who eats you out till you shiver and curl over, thighs trembling as you cream over his mouth. and perv kazuha kisses your clit and tucks your sopping wet panties back to normal <3

#not me giggling smh #genshin impact･ﾟ✧#—🍡 anon #valeries mailbox 📫#val.writes ❦#thirsts. ☁︎︎

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twistedmusings · 3 years

Text

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst mc #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #//TO THE PEOPLE WHO ASKED ME ABOUT THIS A LOT!#//THIS IS FOR YOU!

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nanamisflowerfield · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request a scenario with Yuki and s/o cosplaying? You can choose whoever they cosplay! Thank u<33

Of course, sweetheart!❤️ I couldn‘t decide who I should pick who they cosplay as...! So it can be anybody!~ You might decide it too, dear anon!❤️ Thank you for the request! I hope that you like it and have a great day!~

The room was quite peaceful. Nobody dared to disturb one another, as the lovers both were busy. Yuki was designing the costumes for the upcoming play, while you were sitting on your cosplay. Yuki had never thought that he would fall for someone like you.

You had the same interests as Itaru and Banri, which actually kind of irritated the costume designer, but when he once heard you talk to Taichi about your cosplays and that you designed and made all of them yourself, it surprised the green-haired boy. He started to talk to you more and even got a few ideas sometimes, while you two spend your time together, he noticed that you two same interests like making costumes, shows you watched and other things.

“Oh no…” You mumbled, having made a wrong stitch on your costume as Yuki looked up, interrupting his own thoughts. “What’s wrong?” The young actor immediately stood up, walking towards you as you explained your little problem or more – your big problem. Yuki took the cloth from you, glancing at the stitches as he sat himself down next to you and helped you with it. You could always rely on him. He will always be the best boyfriend a cosplay could ever wish for, and a cute one as well.

“You are so perfect, Yuki.~” Yuki rolled his eyes, ears turning a light red and blushy by your compliment. “Shut up, (y/n). And don’t you ever think about me being cute.” He knows that he was cute, but he wanted to be a cool boyfriend and manly for you. But luckily, you loved him just the way he was. He had no reason to change himself, because then, you would miss the old Yuki, you fell for.

“Are you going to the comic con with Elite Cheater, Small brocon, Neo Delinquent and the Dumb Dog?” He asked you, making you chuckle by the nicknames he had given the other actors. “Yeah, it’s next Saturday. Itaru-san is going there with a strange dog-like mask.” You laughed, remembering his mask he had once wore, when you had dashed into his room, excited to tell him about a cool game you had bought. “Just promise me to protect yourself.” – “Don’t worry. The others will protect me.” Yuki shook his head with a sigh leaving his mouth. “As if the dumb dog could ever protect anybody.” He muttered out, deciding on his own that he will accompany you on your journey to the comic con, so no one will ever touch you in a perverted way… Also, he liked to see you wearing this cute and sometimes cool cosplays. You were a pretty good cosplayer, getting help with your costumes by Yuki and make-up tips by the best make-up artist of the Mankai Company – Azami. And one day, you will wear his costumes, he thought as his lips curled, making him smile.

#a3! x reader #a3! imagines #a3 imagines #a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3 x reader #a3!#yuki rurikawa imagine #yuki rurikawa imagines #rurikawa yuki x reader #yuki rurikawa x reader #rurikawa yuki #yuki rurikawa

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quokkacore · 3 years

Text

can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!"

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston.

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on.

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73.

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day.

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were.

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial.

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours.

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy.

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily.

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning.

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him.

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface."

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey."

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you."

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak.

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you.

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone.

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?"

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?"

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does."

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did.

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage."

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees."

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?"

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight.

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time.

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss.

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid.

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did.

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless.

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground.

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap.

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said.

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen.

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out.

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him.

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin.

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy.

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin.

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?"

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted."

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit.

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still.

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder.

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered.

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now.

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside."

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours.

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours.

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch.

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod.

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head.

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.”

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?"

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!"

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!"

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before.

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded.

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!"

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer.

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath.

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds.

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl."

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast.

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis.

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie."

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach.

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore."

#kwritersworldnet #nct smut #doyoung x reader #jungwoo x reader #doyoung smut #jungwoo smut #kpop smut #kpop au #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #my writing

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general. Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades. You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch. Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards. Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel. The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back. But the custom notification was sweet as well. You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them. You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances. You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one. Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.” Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone. In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.” Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.” You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible. “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)” You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen. “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.” Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep. ‧₊˚✩彡. You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel. Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle. “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him. He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars. “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.” You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.” Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face. “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes. “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!” “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.” Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer. “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!” “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind. “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present. “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for. The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life. A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated: “WELCOME BACK QT” “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW” Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit. Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone. “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!” Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo. Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed. Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡. You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room. Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents. The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched. The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest. The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together. Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two. “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight. “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see. “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?” You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again. “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined. “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?” “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?” He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint. Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala. “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.” Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table. Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.” “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in. The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool. “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again. “Where do you guys know eachother?” “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?” “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?” “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?” “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?” “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?” Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up. “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper. An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji. “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?” Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards. “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.” “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together. Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.” Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again. Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.

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olivelo · 3 years

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Hey can I have some fluff Headcanons for Kyogai with a chubby reader? Your blog is wonderful, I love reading your stuff!! Keep up the good work! -💜

UAHHHH THANK YOU ANON <333

This is such a cute request, I respect and adore Kyogai so much. He had such an interesting character design and backstory.

Anyways, here we go!

Kyogai x chubby reader fluffy headcanons <3

He will always, always, make sure that you feel comfortable. He will constantly remind you of how attractive, beautiful, handsome, exquisite, alluring, captivating, incredible you are. If you are in need of validation, Kyogai is there in an instant.

He absolutely loves to cuddle with you. Whoever is big spoon or little spoon, or if you’re just laying in each other’s arms, he’s at peace and feels like he’s the luckiest being in the world (and he’ll make sure you feel the same). He will make sure you’re comfortable, and he loves to gently caress your cheek and pet your head.

He adores it when the two of you are able to go outside and stargaze. Sometimes the two of you will sit out on the balcony to feel the breeze, and he will let you braid/play with his hair. If you’re okay with it, he’ll braid yours too.

Sometimes, he takes you on a walk to a secluded field, and the two of you will make daisy chains, and enjoy the comforting silence.

He loves to kiss away your insecurities (if you’re comfortable with it). If you’re not, he’ll give you a hug, sit you down with him, and just listen to you.

Any time you’re feeling down, he’s there. You helped him through his rough times after being stripped of his lower moon rank, and so he has made it his personal mission to ensure that you never have to go though the same dark times as him.

He loves to read to you, and when you read to him. It's usually how you two fall asleep, curled up in each other's arms with a book in hand.

He will write stories and poems for you. You were the reason he gained confidence in his writing again. If you like a particular story he was working on, he will keep working on it until it's finished and perfect.

He loves to teach you how to play the drums. He'll correct the little mistakes, help you gain confidence, and I bet you'll be as good as him, if not better!

He will protect you at all costs.

s n u g g l e s

If anyone makes you feel insecure, teases you, or hurts you in any way, they’re done for.

He loves to join you in all of your favourite activities. Want to go for a walk? He'll come along. Want to paint? He'll join you. Want to crochet? You might have to teach him, but he'll be super enthusiastic!

If you need some alone time, he'll make sure you're okay before giving you just that. He respects your privacy, decisions, and needs.

He often falls asleep with his head on your lap, stomach or chest. It makes him feel safe.

He wants to spend forever with you. Whether that means turning you into a demon, or being together until one of you passes. He has never felt happier than when he was with you.

Hope you enjoyed these!! Y'all are gorgeous <333

#kyogai #kyogai x reader headcanons #fluff headcanons #anon ask #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

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thelittleboyfromloveactually · 3 years

Text

Our star

Newt tmr x reader

Warnings: fluff, fluff and oh, fluff

Promt: (ok I am really really bad at descriptions so pls don’t kill me) when you can’t sleep you leave your hut to go get some hair, and you find newt :)

Word count: 1398

Ok so I made this as like a practice story, please give me feed back! It’s much appreciated! This is my first fic so please no hate! I switch between a lot of point of views, tell me which one you prefer! Hope y’all enjoy! (Also didn’t rly proof read :|)

Not my gif! Credit to whoever made it! <3

You had been awake for what seemed like a millennium. After the new greenie had arrived, the gladers threw a bond fire, in which you and almost everyone else got drunk or tipsy at the least. You thought that you would doze off quickly but it never happened. You sighed climbing out of your hammock. It was pretty cold now that you didn’t have the comfort of your blanket. You grabbed your jacket and headed out of the hut. It was quiet, peaceful, when you were a greenie you would wake up early just to have some quiet time and watch the sunrise from the top of the tower. You weren’t sure what time it was but you decided to climb up to your tower spot because it always seemed to sooth you. You still weren’t sure why you couldn’t sleep, your heart just kept racing and you mind was having a concert featuring wannabe by the spice girls. As you got closer and closer to the top you heard a hushed humming sound coming from the top. The tune was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on the exact song. The closer you got the clearer the humming sound became, eventually you realized it was newt. Your best friend since the day you arrived at the glade. Newt had been there for you, he had been there for everyone. He was that person, he was your person. You stopped your climb thinking about if u were going to be disturbing him. You came to the conclusion that talking to newt might actually help with your sleeping, so you continued the climb.

You reached the top and Newt's eyes darted to you quickly, he smiled at the sight. Newt had always loved you, as a friend of course. He always wanted to be near you and to keep you safe. When you were a greenie you had the “crazy” idea of wanting to be a runner, but Newt couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go into the horrid maze.

“Hello love, what are you doing up” he asked smiling

“I couldn’t sleep” you responded standing up to come sit next to him

“Nor could I, a lot of stress with the new greenie and all”

“He seems nice”

“Yes, he’s a spontaneous one though”

You giggled, you always loved his accent, it was like music to your ears.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked facing you, looking at you with loving eyes

“Well I am not quite sure, to be completely honest”

“Something on your mind? You can tell me” he said encouragingly

“No no, I am glad your here tho, your very chill”

“Chill huh?” He said grinning and raising an eyebrow

“Yup” you said nodding your head

“Well I hope I am fun too”

“Oh yes, the most fun ever”

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company. You didn’t know how but somehow newts arm had been around you, pulling you in close, as you rested your head on his shoulder, looking at the gorgeous night sky. Whilst looking at all the stars you quickly found your favorite constellation, the northern crown (Corona Borealis).

“That’s my favorite constellation” you said pointing your finger towards a group of stars in the sky

“It’s very nice” newt nodded

“It’s called the Corona Borealis, or the northern crown. I really like the story behind it, it’s so sweet.”

“Tell me” he said simply

“Oh well I am not sure how accurate this is going to be but basically…..” (because it was not my story I didn’t put it in do to Plagiarism and stuff)

You told newt the story, he kept his eyes on you the whole time admiring your love for the stars. Once you finished you sighed. “It’s a love story, and I love love stories” u said

Newt laughed “me too”

You looked at each other his eyes flickered to you lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. It was silent until he spoke

“It’s getting late love you should go to sleep” he said looking away

“Uh ya your probably right” you stood up, feeling cold again because newts arm was no longer pulling you toward him, then suddenly you felt a hand grab your wrist, looking back you saw newt looking at you with the sweetest eyes

NEWTS POV

The second she stood up to go it felt wrong, I could let her go, not again. We were alone and now was the right time to tell her! But what if she doesn’t feel the same way? I will have messed up our whole bloody relationship. Ya know what, fuck it, I have been in love with Y/N since she stepped out of the box. I saw the scared look in her eyes and from then on I vowed to protect her, even if that meant that she would hate me for a few days every once in a while. Suddenly a jolt of electricity and confidence ran through my body, my hard was suddenly on Y/Ns wrist, well no turning back now. She looked back at me, her face was surprised and confused. I stood up, grabbing her other hand “Y/N there is something I need to tell you” I said, I had to do it quick because I could already feel the confidence leaving me. “Ok shoot, blondie” she said smiling. Fuck. “Well um” come on, you can do this! “Ever since I saw you scared in that box, when I came down to greet you and you flinched away, I didn’t know it then but I broke my heart seeing you in that state, scared, alone, scared of me. When you finally spoke to me your voice was like music to my ears and I vowed to protect you and love you” I paused looking for some reaction in her face, it was frozen at first but then she smiled and said “And that’s exactly what you have done, and I thank you for that” then she kissed my cheek “don’t worry about me blondie” she said removing her hands from mine

YOUR POV

He was truly the sweetest boy in the world, hearing him say all those things gave me butterflies. All I wanted to do was hug him and never let go, but I resorted to kissing him on the cheek. I began walking away thinking he was done with his sweet speech when suddenly he pulled me back to him. But this time he didn’t stop me a few feet away, this time my lips crashed into his. Surprised at first my lips stayed still, but slowly my lips moved into a rhythm with his. They seemed to move as if they were meant to be in the state they were now. I broke the kiss when suddenly the thought hit me, I was the only girl in the glade, Alby had rules, no one could touch me.“Wait newt, we should think about this-“ I started before being cut off, “You don’t like me do you?” He said looking down, “What?! No! I-l, of course I like you, hell I probably love you newt!” His face lit up at my words “Great, then I think we have done enough thinking” he said before again pulling me back into a passionate and needy kiss, it was warm and gentle. We only broke apart to breath our foreheads still touching. “I think we are the lucky ones” he said smiling. He remembers, once when I was feeling down I had told him that we are the least luckiest people in the world, I had told him it was a world I didn’t want to be in. But he told me that soon we would be the lucky ones and we would get out of here. “The stars aligned, and in all of this crazy-ness somehow you and me are here together, and I am never letting you go,” he said, kissing me again, this time completely wiping my brain of all thoughts. Maybe he was right, maybe we are the lucky ones this time

“Every now and then the stars a-line

Boy and girl meet by the great design

Finally, you and me, are the lucky ones this time”

-lucky ones by Lana del ray

#newt tmr #newtie #the maze runner #newt x reader #newt tmr x reader

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