#taking suggestions comments etc etc please
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Trying to get my 2 brain cells to work together to think of a sterek set that Isn’t Sad to post tomorrow
#going poorly#was going to use maybe a scene from my favorite fic. author deleted their profile so :) not that !#Charlotte.txt#taking suggestions comments etc etc please
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Little things to be more charming ౨ৎ
holding eye contact when speaking to someone. takes some practice but so so worth it <3
don't be shy about your niche interests!! even if people don't fully get it, it makes you interesting!!
remember people's names!!
accept compliments, don't go "oh noo you're too kind I'm so ugly I look awful blah blah blah" when people say something nice to you.
signature pen. Don't question it. every cool girl has a signature pen.
always look out for others, make sure no one feels left out when you hang out with a group, check up on your friends, etc etc
listen closely and think before you speak, that way you won't stumble over your words and appear more collected and calm! :)
"please" and "thank you" ALWAYS.
you don't have to be perfect at something to have fun. I'm terrible at golf (a danger to myself and others) but people don't mind and think it is cute and fun... a win-win for me lmao
dressing up? normal to you. Don't save your cute outfits for "special" days; every day is special and you deserve to look gorgeous. <3
Oh and sit up straight ;)
As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions and tips in the comments! <3
✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩
#malusokay#girl blogger#it girl#pink blog#that girl#coquette#dream girl#aesthetic#pink pilates princess#pinterest#girly stuff#girlblogging#just girly things#girlhood#girly things#girly aesthetic#pink bows#just girly posts#just girly thoughts#ribbons and bows#coquettecore#angelic#dollete aesthetic#dollette#glow up#self love#loa tumblr#loa blog#manifesting#live laugh girlblog
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nerd TEASER
🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. “Just need to get your eyes right for your character,” he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length. “Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, use of dragon knotted dildo toy, use of vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, dirty talk, slight power play/humiliation, clit sucking, overstimulation, pussy stretching, reader rides the toy then Wonwoo uses the toy to make her cum again, talking reader through it, mutual masturbation, Wonwoo strokes himself off to the reader using her toys, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby. (Wonwoo’s) puppy
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k
🍭 aus. Established relationship au, gamer!Wonwoo, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know this is on the shorter side, it’s pwp, but I’ve been reading shorter things lately, and I’ve been insanely busy, so I figured a short and sweet fic couldn’t hurt after last month's near 20k meanie fic :)
“I guess I didn’t really have the energy to take care of you last night,” Wonwoo admits, leaning forward to press his lips to the spot above your navel.
You let go of his hand in favour of threading your fingers through his curls, his hair teasing your sensitive skin as he presses kisses up toward your rib cage. He cups the back of your thighs, tugging you closer.
Wonwoo reaches your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick at the underside of your boob, eyes gazing up at you.
“How about a compromise?” he suggests, breath hot on your sensitive skin.
“A compromise?” Your words come out shaky as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently.
He hums against the sensitive bud, one hand lifting to massage your ass. Then, he pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with a grin. “I just wanna finish your character first.”
You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head at Wonwoo. You step away from him, but he grabs at your hand. “Kiss,” he instructs, and you begrudgingly lean down to press a chaste peck to his lips. His fingers thread through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep your mouth on his for a few moments longer, then he releases you.
“Should only take five or ten minutes,” he tells you. “And I need you here to model.”
“One second,” you groan, heading to your closet.
If he doesn’t want to fuck you right away, if he wants to prioritize his video game, that’s just fine. You can start without him.
READ IT NOW
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taglist is limited, to ensure a tag please reply, reblog with a comment, or reblog, those who do one of those three options will be prioritized when it comes to posting day
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#wonwoo#wonwoo smut#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo smut#svt#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen smut#wonwoo x reader#gamer wonwoo#gamer wonwoo smut
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✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️
About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac
Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!
Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.
Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!
Writing:
Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K
Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink
Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)
Show You What Devotion Is ❤️🔥
Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.
Warnings: So many, check the post for details.
More Than Words 🫶 // 8k
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k
Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.
Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.
Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k
Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.
Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.
Spencer Reid x Reader SFW
The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k
Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.
Just Hanging Out // 3k
Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.
(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).
Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k
Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.
Series
That's What You Get // complete 💕
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.
Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.
Playlist: Me and You in 2024
Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!
Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡
Answered Requests
(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k
(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words
(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words
(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k
(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k
(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k
(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k
(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k
(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k
(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k
(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼♀️// 1.8k
(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️🔥// 1.6k
(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k
(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ❤️🩹// 5k
(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k
(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k
(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵♂️// 3.6k
(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k
(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k
(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k
(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k
(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k
(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k
(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k
(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k
(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽♀️// 2.1k
(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k
(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#reiderrecommends#spencer reid fanfic#Masterlist#criminal minds fanfiction
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ADORABLY, YOURS.
pairings: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, feat. choi seungcheol
tropes: love triangle, friends to lovers (jeonghan x you), strangers to friends to fwb to friends (seungcheol x you), kinda slowburn, one-sided love (or is it?), pining, slight age gap (2-3 years) etc.
genres: fluff, angst, jealousy, sexual content (no explicit smut content but references to it) with vulgar language, cafe!au, non-idol!au, college!au.
word count: 12k (I am sorry about this.)
what to expect:
You’ve liked Jeonghan since you met him through your best friend, Wonwoo. But little by little every day you’re convinced he knows you like him and his non-action can only mean your feelings are not mutual. Then, you run into Seungcheol, a childhood best friend of Jeonghan’s, who instantly develops a soft spot for you. The resulting love triangle that wreaks havoc on your emotions might as well end being the answer to your problems. Bittersweet like coffee but decisive as a caffeine rush, this is the story of how you beat all odds to be with Yoon Jeonghan.
warnings slash author’s note:
I warn you beforehand: the logistics of this love triangle are a bit morally ambiguous, i.e. I can’t tell if I used Seungcheol purely as a plot-point or not. I probably did. But in my defense, I think all love triangles are inherently a little bit evil and cruel. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this admittedly self-indulgent mammoth of a fic. I had a headache the whole three days I was writing it. I love Jeonghan and I promise there will be a make-up fic for Seungcheol, because I’m biased but not corrupt. As always, this isn't proofread but I will get to that in the next few days! All right, that’s all. Love you, friends and foes!
It’s one of those days. You can’t help yawn after yawn and no amount of caffeine is washing the throbbing in your head away. To make things worse, you’ve managed to sleep with a spine posture worse than even your worst days which means your back hurts from standing at the register all day. But the day is far from over as a glance at the clock informs you; your cafe shift has a good three hours remaining.
And whenever you’re hoping to take a break on the uncomfortable chair propped in a corner near the register, the door to the cafe will jingle with the presence of a new customer. At least your co-worker for the day, Joshua, is also a friend so you can talk his ear off about the various ways in which you might escape the prison of existence.
Just as you’re going into detail about how you wouldn’t mind dissipating into air, the glass door swings open and in comes a tall man clad in a suit, the heels of his dress shoes clanking against the floor of the coffee shop. You reign in the surprised look that threatens to overtake your face – because goddamn, the man is gorgeous – as you greet him, “Good morning! Welcome to Moon Coffee!”
“Good afternoon to you, too,” the man corrects you with a dimpled smile. You wince at your mistake and nod, “Right, sorry about that. What can I get started for you?” You force a smile that you hope is friendly enough onto your face, gesturing to the large menu boards above you, “Please, take your time.”
As the man busies his eyes with the plentiful options displayed on the boards, you busy yourself with questioning what a fancy ass man like him was doing at the campus coffee shop. His hair was long, brown ends curling around his neck and as he ran a hand through it, deep in thought, you could essentially smell how rich he was.
“The hazelnut mocha sounds like it’s good but also really sweet,” he comments, looking at you for a second opinion.
“Right, it’s one of our best-sellers! And it is on the sweeter side because of the chocolate in it, but you could balance it out with a double-shot?” you suggest and then, “Otherwise, our classic mochas are not as sweet.”
The man nods with a slight smile, “Hmm, I like the sound of the first option. I’ll have that, please.”
“Is that an iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot for you?” you ask with a smile. When he nods, you punch in his order, “Can I get a name for the drink?”
“Seungcheol.”
“All right, thank you very much. That’ll take just a few minutes. You’re welcome to take a seat and wait.” He nods as he walks to one of the tables next to the window.
Joshua’s already getting to work with Seungcheol’s drink and you take a moment to rest your back against the counter, throwing a glance or two at the new (and gorgeous) face in town. But thankfully for this rich stranger, today is the day you don’t have the energy to go down a rabbit hole trying to find an explanation for his presence. Instead you wave him a good day as he leaves with a satisfied smile on his face and an iced mocha in his hand.
Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.
A week later has you eating your words. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Thursday afternoons are the busiest times of your shift at Moon Coffee. Most students were either rushing to down caffeine to finish some daunting assignment due at the end of the week or otherwise, others would be early in celebrating the fast-approaching weekend. The first kind you can deal with: they’re easy to relate to and they don’t really care if your customer service is the bare minimum from how tired you are.
But the second kind? You wish you could be granted with some kind of powers that would take away any more weekends from the rest of their lives. If the way they strolled in grinning and took their time with the menu didn’t have you fuming, their inane but obnoxious questions about your life would have you at the edge of your temper every week. You were only thankful you didn’t have to work the Friday crowds or you’d actually be declared a public threat.
But today, unfortunately for you, Jeonghan’s decided to make a visit to the cafe and if the fact that he’s not even a student anymore wasn’t enough, he was celebrating his birthday week. Which meant he was even worse than in exhibiting his usual infuriating customer behavior. But annoying customer or not, Jeonghan was also the guy you’ve harbored feelings for since two years ago now.
So when he strolls up to the counter with Seungcheol, the polite rich man from last week, by his side, you have more than one reason to stare at them dumbfounded.
“Oh, hey, it’s you!” Seungcheol starts, eyes trailing to the name on your tag, “Y/N!”
Jeonghan shoots you a confused look and then elbows Seunghceol, “Don’t even pretend that you know her. I totally caught you looking at her name tag. Have a little shame, Cheol.”
You clear your throat, “Um, good afternoon and welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” You punctuate the question with a smile that you hope screams please order fast and get out of here!
But Jeonghan evidently has long missed the memo when he pokes Seungcheol again, “You know sometimes I come here just so I can see Y/N smiling. She never smiles off the clock. It’s truly devastating.”
Seungcheol looks amused, “Is that so? I mean, fair enough. With a smile like that, you ought to be paid to show it.”
You cough into your palm, caught off-guard but quick to conceal the shy grin that’s crept up your face. You pray that the heat in your neck doesn’t climb up to show on your face. “Will you be ordering the same as last week? Iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot?”
Seungcheol’s face lights up a little at your recognition but Jeonghan’s quickly butting in with an affronted expression, “Oh, so you recognize this man who’s been here once, but not your close friend of a long long time? Do you even know how much money I’ve spent on the seasonal lattes here?”
You sport a sly smile, “Right, thank you for enjoying our seasonal menu of beverages. We hope you continue to love the upcoming drinks. Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions here!” You hand him a brand-new index card and gesture at a drop-box next to your monitor.
Seungcheol cackles at the defeated look on Jeonghan’s face and grins as he says, “You know what, I think I’ll get the same mocha again, Y/N. It did wonders for my mood.” You find yourself grinning almost immediately, tapping in his order with a hum.
“And for you?”
“...”
You know Jeonghan’s scheming something but you can’t afford to let him play out whatever sick mind games he’s planned out at your workplace so you’re quick to appease him, “If I might, I suggest you go for the salted caramel brownie latte. It’s perfect for this weather and it tastes suspiciously like birthday cake.”
Jeonghan can’t help a smile at your words, rolling his eyes a little, “Fine. That does sound tempting. I’ll have one of those, but only if I get a personalized note from you wishing me a very very happy birthday.”
You contain a scoff, “Of course.” You nod, “Thankfully for the line behind you, I already have your names down. Please step aside while we prepare your drinks. Thank you.”
–
“She’s hilarious,” chuckles Seungcheol, bumping shoulders with Jeonghan as they settle into his car. “Didn’t think I would witness Yoon Jeonghan’s downfall in a random college cafe.”
Jeonghan scoffs, “I think you’re too happy about this. Plus, my downfall started a long time ago when I stopped cheating in board games.” He takes a sip of his latte, “Fuck, this does taste like cake. What the fuck?”
Despite his words, Jeonghan smiles when he sees the note you promised him:
jeonghan – happy birthday week, u weird old man! please invite me to ur birthday party so i can give u the best gift of ur life and maybe also stick ur head in cake :) lots of love, y/n.
“She’s in her senior year, you said?”
Jeonghan looks up with a nod, “Yeah, I met her through Wonwoo, back when we shared a class in college. And then when I graduated and settled here, I’d invite them to get-togethers because I know how miserable the nightlife on this campus is.”
“Wow, look at you, such an admirable role model,” Seungcheol jokes, “And Wonwoo? Was he the glasses guy who you FaceTimed this morning? He seemed… cool, I guess.”
Jeonghan shrugs with a shoulder, “He’s a piece of work, alright. But that explains why he and Y/N are inseparable. Anyway, you’ll meet the rest of the crew later tonight. Thursday night is board game night.”
‘Board Game Night’ was a very, very loose term for the weekly gathering at Jeonghan’s place – it was a mix of Jeonghan’s friends, namely Dokyeom and Woozi, from work doing karaoke, his tired college friends (aka your friend group) lounging around on their phones, and maybe a group of two to three actually playing board games.
Tonight is slightly different, though, because the alcohol that Jeonghan otherwise wisely guards most weeks has made its presence known to everyone, the fancy bar table propped in a corner of his living room finally finding meaning.
You make it to his place, around thirty minutes past the usual starting time, exhausted from another soul-sucking shift at your job. You’d planned to sit on Jeonghan’s couch and binge-watch some mindless TV show but you’re thrown off when a reddened Seungcheol answers the door.
“Y/N! You’re late,” he exclaims. His speech is normal, thankfully but as you step in to take in the rest of the people, you look back at Seungcheol, eyes doubtful.
“I did not know my night was going to involve babysitting a bunch of drunk old men,” you mutter, not quite meaning for Seungcheol to catch your words. But he does and chuckles, hand at your elbow as he steers you to the bar.
“C’mon, you don’t have to babysit anyone. I’ve got it under control. Now, let me pour you a drink. What can I get for you?”
You watch the tall man with a skeptical smile, a little flustered because he’s standing close enough that you can feel him hard bicep against you and a little bit amused because well, this was new. It’d been a while since you’d been flustered around a man other than Yoon Jeonghan.
“Oh, so you’re making me a drink now?” you ask, “How did you even convince Jeonghan to let out the alcohol? You must have some special powers over him for this to happen.”
Before Seungcheol can supply a reason, Jeonghan appears behind the bar counter, smirking, “Ha! You think I’d let this coward dictate my actions? Nope, this was completely my decision. I couldn’t let the week of my birthday be dry! That’d be such a shame.”
“You’re funny, Han,” you mumble, turning to him with a quirked brow, “How many drinks are you down?”
He waves your concern away, “Shut up. I’m older than you, I don’t need you fussing after me. Now, get yourself a drink before I get mad.”
You raise your hands in surrender, “Sure, wouldn’t want the birthday boy to be made at me.”
“So what will it be? Do you want a beer? Or maybe a good old rum and coke?” Seungcheol offers, eyes already searching for the ingredients.
You narrow your eyes at him, “I think I’ll have a Scotch and Soda, please.”
A few hours later finds you sprawled on Jeonghan’s couch, nevermind the alcohol in your system and the ruckus your friends were creating. You had engaged with their antics for an hour: playing stupid drinking games (only to get drunker by the minute because you suck at games) and retiring early.
Jun starts to complain when you announce that you’re giving up, mainly because he’d be the next target of the crowd, but Jeonghan firmly leads you to the couch.
“You okay?” he asks you, warm fingers steadying you by the neck. Your world spins as he becomes the focus, ironically enough. You nod as you welcome the soft couch underneath your unsteady body, “Hmm. I’m just bummed out that you didn’t help me out by cheating.”
He laughs and the sound unsettles you with its vibrations. “I told you I don’t cheat anymore, silly. Also, I’m pretty sure you’d have lost even if I did pull out some master cheating moves.” You gasp, weakly pushing him away, “Whatever, man, I don’t need your attitude.”
If Jeonghan’s started to genuinely get worried about you, it only gets worse when you cough into your elbow, groaning as you pull away. His hands find your neck again. You hate his touch because you lean into it so naturally, your eyes following him just like he wants. You hate the warm feeling you feel when he feels your forehead with a concerned frown. You hate how you’re practically burning at his touch because he’s a breath away and your fingers twitch in your lap from wanting to touch his hair.
But soft like the strands that tickle your ear, Jeonghan whispers, “God, you’re burning up. Maybe you did drink too much. Fuck, let me bring you some water and then, let’s get you to sleep.”
You protest his lamely sensible plan of action but he isn’t listening as he departs, leaving you feeling cold. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate, trying to keep an eye on Jeonghan when another tall figure encroaches your field of vision.
“Y/N?” Seungcheol calls out and for a moment, you’re unresponsive, eyes fixated on something beyond him but then you perk up in recognition, pouting as you beckon him to the couch.
“You–!” you point at him with a squint, head working hard to recall his name, “Um, um, Cheol?”
Seungcheol smiles at the nickname, taking a seat next to you, leaving some space but extending an arm behind you because of how you’re dangerously swinging. “Right, that is me. How are you feeling? Not too nauseous I hope?”
You shake your head, “”M fine. But tell that to Han because that weasel’s trying to make me sober up and sleep.” You breathe out a little angrily and then when the world swims around you, you lean your head against the back of the couch– that is currently occupied by Seuncheol’s arm.
He jumps a little at the unexpected contact but steadies himself when he sees your closed eyes, your skin hot against his forearm. “Now, why would he do that? You literally just got drunk,” he tells you, trying to keep you engaged in the conversation, lest you should pass out.
“Right?” you exclaim, opening your eyes, head still against his arm, “It’s like he’s never had fun in his life. For how much he likes to tease people, he sure is a killjoy.”
“Ha, I’m surprised you know him so well, honestly. People usually just take him at face value and think he’s a devilish troublemaker. But god knows how mature Jeonghan is. It makes me mad sometimes.”
You giggle and Seungcheol’s stomach swims at how he can feel the sweet sound in his veins, like literally. “You get me, dude. How long have you known him?”
“Um, like, nearly ten years now? I don’t know, I kinda lost count at some point.”
“Wow, that’s a long time. I’ve known him for like two years?” you hum. “Yeah, he told me.”
You quirk a brow at that, lifting your head up in amusement. “You two been talking about me? What did he say? That I’m Wonwoo’s evil twin?”
“Hmm, yeah, something along the lines of that.”
Jeonghan’s back by your side, suddenly, his strong grip straightening you up and holding up a glass of water. His expression is stoic as hell for a board game night and you don’t know if you feel scolded or cared for. It’s always hard to tell with him.
You stare at him blankly, not drinking the water like he wants you to. Instead you turn to Seungcheol, “I don’t want to.”
Your plea is unreasonable, you and Seungcheol both know, and he can practically feel Jeonghan’s glare when you ask Seungcheol, “Cheol, can you tell him I’m not dying? I don’t need to be babied.”
“Yeah, you do,” Jeonghan says, touching the cold glass against your skin. You jump a little with a soft unfair! and Seungcheol sighs, “Hannie, let her be. I don’t think she wants to go to sleep yet.”
“Thank you! At least someone has ears ‘round here!”
Jeonghan shoots his best friend an unreadable look, still firm, “Well, she needs to drink water either way. Unless someone wants the worst hangover of their life the next morning.” This time, his unoccupied hand finds the back of your head, settling into the stray strands of your hair there. “Please, just drink this.”
You find yourself giving in, lips opening up to the glass and you swallow a few gulps of water, the cold liquid soothing your insides. Before you know it, the glass is empty. He holds it up in front of you, “See? That felt nice, didn’t it?”
There it is, again. The playful glint in his eye and the sly tone of his voice. You ignore the burning tips of your ears and give him a half-nod, throwing yourself against the couch again with a relieved sigh. “Thanks, old man! What would I do without you?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes as he stands up, “Ever so grateful, Y/N.”
“Y’know, Cheol and I were in the middle of a very mind-opening discussion about you.”
“Me?” his interest is piqued and he glances at Seungcheol, who he jostles lightly, “What’ve you been, shit-talking me?”
Seungcheol laughs as he throws the man off, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Anyway, if you want to go back to your game, I have a lot of anecdotes to share with Y/N. It’s our bonding time.”
And bond, you do. You spend the rest of the night talking to Seungcheol on Jeonghan’s couch, the owner of the place long forgotten as you go on to talk about everything else: college experiences, Seungcheol’s job (“So how rich are you exactly?” you grill him), and life interests.
“I can’t believe you like college so much! I hated it a lot back in my time.”
You snort, “You sound really old for someone who graduated two years ago. But I mean, each to their own. I prefer the comfort of the bubble here, you know. No real responsibility most of the time and you’re allowed to make some mistakes now and then. The real world? That’s like hell. I don’t think I’m ever going to feel like an adequate adult ever. Like, tax fraud is real, you know? And I never know which law I’m going to break? Don’t even get me started about the living situation.”
Seungcheol laughs throughout your troubled rant, “No, I get it. But don’t you feel excited about the independence you get to have? The freedom? And plus, if you get lucky with your job, working is actually very fulfilling.”
“Ugh,” you throw your head against the back of the couch again, “I don’t think I’ll ever feel fulfilled. Like ever. I feel too immature to be anything but a college student.”
He frowns on hearing that, confused because he’d never imagined of spending a whole night talking his heart out to a college student. But it happened because it was you, with your quick-witted responses and thoughtful questions. So, he’s fast to counter, “That’s not true–”
But his defense is cut short when Wonwoo approaches you, tapping at your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, you wanna head back?” You look up and are shocked to find the living room nearly emptied of its earlier occupants. When did everyone leave? “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your room. It’s getting late,” Wonwoo continues.
“Oh, damn, I didn’t even realize,” Seungcheol mutters, looking down at the watch on his wrist. “You guys sure you want to head back this late? You could just crash here. I would offer to drive but I drank.”
Wonwoo’s eyes trail to you, leaving the decision up to you. You mull it over, “I don’t know if Han’s gonna want a bunch of wasted kids at his place?”
As if you’d summoned him, Jeonghan appears beside Seungcheol with a yawn, “What’s this about me? Why’re you guys still up? Come on, let me show you to the empty rooms and please go to sleep before I have to use force.”
Wonwoo laughs, “He didn’t even leave us a choice,” and you watch as Jeonghan turns around, expecting you to follow him.
“Jeon Wonwoo,” you turn to your best friend, “Please tell me you don’t still try to suffocate other people in their sleep?”
The boy contains a grin, “I don’t know. It depends on how annoying the person I’m with is.”
“You’re sleeping on the floor, asshole.”
–
Seungcheol has a problem.
He likes to think of himself as a reasonable adult, with the ability to make logical choices and admitting to his flaws here and there. But had he been reasonable enough, he wouldn’t be this hung up over someone he met twice over the course of two weeks. It’s ridiculous: the way his heartbeat’s racing when you tread down to breakfast the morning after the board game night turned bonding time.
He’s smiling his way through an excited “good morning!” before he can collect himself. You look tired, albeit a little bit lesser than usual, and your hair’s down in something of a mess. Seungcheol vaguely recognizes the faded gray tee you’re wearing, probably a donation of Jeonghan’s. “Morning,” you mumble to the breakfast table, everyone present now that you’re here.
Wonwoo snickers, “You look like shit, dude.” You glare at him as you’re reaching out for a fork, “Thanks, Wonwoo, I see that you’re as sweet as ever.”
Jeonghan lightly slaps Wonwoo’s arm, “Be nice to her. Who knows what a hungover Y/N might do?”
You turn to Jeonghan, finally eating the piece of watermelon that you’d been reaching for, “I’m flattered you’re concerned but I’ll have you know I’m not hungover.”
“That’s impressive,” Seungcheol chimes in and you smile at him, “See, I can’t believe this man I met last week understands me better than my best friend and my other friend.”
“Your other friend? That’s what I am to you???” Jeonghan gasps, hand clutching his chest dramatically and Seungcheol laughs louder than he ought to, but he can barely help it, he’s all giddy. All it took was a half-compliment from you.
So yeah, easy to say, Seungcheol has a problem and it has something to do with the way you lean into him when you ask him to pass a slice of toast.
Luckily for Seungcheol, you also have a problem, and it occurs when you declare you need to head back, hoping that they’d let you go alone but Jeonghan’s standing up instantly with a nod. You have a problem with the way he’s unbothered with his behavior, easily saying, “I’ll walk you,” as if your best friend of years wasn’t sitting right there.
You look to Wonwoo, hoping he’d feel the heat of your expression but he simply stretches his limbs out with a groan, “Think I’ll go take a nap before I leave.”
“Don’t you have a class at 12?” you nudge him subtly, trying to ignore Jeonghan as he stands at the table, fingers tapping at the chair that he’s behind.
“Eh, I’m ahead of the syllabus in the class and attendance is a joke.”
You sigh in defeat and meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he lifts his lips into a smile.
And the smile only leaves his lips once you’ve stepped out, clad in your clothes from last night again, groaning when the morning sunlight hits your eyes. “Ugh is right,” he mumbles beside you as he starts walking.
You catch up to him, hands stuffed down your pockets, and he asks, “You have class?”
“Not really. But I do have an upcoming paper I want to finish over the weekend so I don’t perish next week.”
Jeonghan chuckles as he glances at you, “Wow, you’re still this hard-working, huh? I thought your lifestyle would’ve worn you out by now.”
“You’re one to talk about detrimental lifestyles, Han,” you scoff, “Just because you hang out with us once a week doesn’t mean we don’t know you’re overworking yourself for the rest of it.”
He’s silent for a beat and then he exhales, “Huh. I don’t know. Feels like I have the other kids fooled. It’s always you, with your smart little head and truth bombs.”
You laugh, hitting his side with your shoulder, “I’m serious, Han. Take it slow, won’t you? You’re going to end up burning yourself out to death by the time you’re 30. And then whos’ going to host board game nights?”
Jeonghan laughs and he turns to look at you, walking pace slowing down as he trains his eyes on you. You raise your brows in confusion, a slight smile playing on your lips as you try to guess what he’s thinking this time.
“You and Cheol have been getting along really well, huh?”
You’re thrown off guard, not having imagined this to be his next words. You shrug. “Yeah, he’s really easy to talk to, especially given his… I don’t know, social status?”
“Social status?”
You cough in embarrassment over your words. What were you saying? “Don’t know. It’s just nice to meet someone whose hopes and dreams aren’t being crushed by student debt.”
Jeonghan’s silent again and now it’s your turn to frown because you’re wondering if you said the wrong thing. God, does he think you’re creepy for liking his childhood friend? Fucking hell.
“I’m glad,” he says but you can sense a strain in his voice, “I was worried he’d get bored to death when he came to visit me.”
“Ah, well. How long is he around?”
“He took a month off, I think? But he’s got it easy with his flexible hours, so really, it’s up to him when to leave.”
You nod a little, “Cool.” You exhale in relief, a little bit reassured now that Jeonghan was back to talking like his usual self. You’ve finally reached the steps to your dorm by the time the conversation fades away and he waves at you, “Better be on time tomorrow for my party. And don’t forget to bring the best gift of my life.”
You groan when he quotes your note on his coffee from a day ago, shrugging as you turn around to run up to your room and melt into your pillow. But you’ve made it to two steps up when he calls out for you again. You swerve around to face him with a questioning glance.
“Y/N, remember you can come to this old man if you ever need anything, okay? I’m here for you, always.”
??????????
–
Okay, let’s rewind a little.
You’ve known Jeonghan for two years now, enough time to fall for him. You argue it was inevitable because all your life, you’d only been disappointed in your love interests, who would either ghost you in the talking stage itself or break up a few months into the relationship. One time it was because you were too busy with your studies and the third and final time because well, you were apparently too aloof. Not loving enough.
Which is why when Jeonghan came into the picture, you found yourself changing ever so slightly. Not to say you weren’t still a little bit wary of people and took your time opening up, but you met a lot of friends through him and he taught you that trust and attention goes a long way in relationships. If only you could apply this newfound knowledge to new relationships.
You’d tried: Wonwoo had set you up with a friend from class, Mingyu, and while you’d been able to sit through the first date, by the end of the night, it was clear that both of you were more interested in sex. Which was fine. But then there was the guy who was a regular at your cafe who had given you his number and you’d ended up wondering why you were with him in the bathroom, staring at a text from Jeonghan.
So you were down pretty bad for him. And as Wonwoo had voiced multiple times before, the next move to make was to actually tell the man that you’d been suffering in your feelings for him. But every time the topic came around, you had only one answer prepared: he already knows. Or so you’re convinced.
You had good reason to think so. Once, the group of you had been playing an online game that involved picking red flags for other people’s ideal types and when it was time for others to pick some for you, all hell had broken loose.
“I bet she likes bad guys who are emotionally unavailable,” Jun had said, quick to drag the flag that said emotional constipation on it. You had defended yourself quickly, “UH? No thanks, men with no emotional intelligence are a hard pass for me. I don’t want to feed into some idiot’s Oedipus complex just because I’m the mom friend.”
“The mom friend?” Wonwoo had questioned, “Please, Y/N, if anything, you’re the dead friend with a severe case of RBF. Jeonghan’s the mom friend.”
Jeonghan’s shrug had been followed by a hysterical Joshua going, “Wouldn’t that mean Y/N’s ideal type is Jeonghan? I mean, it makes a lot of sense, he’s mature and emotionally intelligent.”
You’d choked over your next words, cheeks burning, “No, that’s stupid. Don’t be weird.”
Yeah, very weak defense.
When Wonwoo brought up the fact that you’d refuted Joshua’s claims and that probably led Jeonghan to believe you weren’t into him, you simply told him to remind himself of what happened next. Dokyeom had laughed, “But you definitely go for older men? I can’t imagine any guy in college being too smart like that.”
You’d agreed in the end, his logic being pretty solid. You had also noticed the way Jeonghan excused himself to the kitchen with a lame excuse about bringing more snacks when there was an array of unopened chips still lying around.
“Okay, so that’s one example, from like two months ago,” Wonwoo argues as you roll around in bed to avoid his glare, “Do you really think he remembers that incident so well?”
“Two months ago was not that long ago. And it wasn’t just this once. I’m a mess around Jeonghan.”
“You’re a mess period,” Wonwoo casually declares and when you sit up with an unhinged jaw, he laughs, “No offense.”
“Whatever. I hate you. And I hate Jeonghan. I should just skip his birthday party or I’m just gonna make things worse for myself.”
“Right. And what about the Lego set you spent half your life savings on?”
You pause, heart skipping a beat when you remember the gift sitting on your desk, wrapped securely and the purchase of which you could only justify with the words: Yoon Jeonghan.
“God, I must be insane. Why did I even buy that for him? He’s gonna think I’m genuinely weird. Does he even want gifts? He’s turning 25 for god’s sake.”
Wonwoo doesn’t respond so you can hear yourself and eventually, you do. Jeonghan himself had told you to be on time to his party with the gift alongside. You’re going to cry.
“You really think I should tell him?” you ask quietly.
Your best friend nods eagerly, patting your arm through the mess of your bedsheets, “Please. It’s high time. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Weird promise to make, but fine. I’ll do it.”
–
The weight of your promise settles into your veins when you’ve arrived at Jeonghan’s place, self-consciously straightening out non-existent wrinkles in your dress when he comes over to greet you and Wonwoo. It doesn’t leave when he grins at you, wider than usual, and it definitely only gets worse when he accepts your gift with a low whisper that he’ll be sure to open yours first.
You’re thankful for Seungcheol when he shows up next to you, dimples out as he compliments you in your dress and you return it with a shy smile. Half because you need a distraction and more because Seungcheol’s presence is calming, you follow him to the bar.
“How’s your night going so far?”
“It could be better,” you mumble, eyes searching for Jeonghan and settling when he doesn’t seem to be anywhere close, “A little bit nervous.”
“Nervous?” he asks you, sliding you a drink and you smile as you take a sip: Scotch and Soda.
“Hmm, it’s nothing honestly. A lot of work piling up as we speak,” you joke. Seungcheol’s frown melts away, “Ah, of course. Senior year must be crazy.”
The night picks it pace up thereon, with your nerves finding some peace in the buzz from alcohol and your cheeks only hurting the longer you talk to Seungcheol.There’s some dancing of course, here and there, but you find yourself avoiding Jeonghan actively, retracting from the floor whenever he’s close.
It helps that Seungcheol stays close so that you have an excuse to appear occupied and somewhere along in the night, you tell the man with a smile, “You’re really charming, you know, Cheol?”
He breaks out into that giggle of his, “You think so? I haven’t even pulled out all the stops yet?”
“Really?” you find yourself stepping closer, encouraged by how quickly his hands are at your waist, “What haven’t you done yet?”
A breathy hum leaves his lips at your provoking and you’re close enough to brush lips against Seungcheol when suddenly, you’re being pulled away. For a moment, you let out an annoyed groan, certain that the iron hold on your bicep is Wonwoo being stubborn again. So when you tilt your head and catch sight of Jeonghan’s black hair falling into his eyes, a glare in place, all words leave your system.
You’re aware he’s dragging you away and also that Seungcheol’s following, reaching for your hand with words leaving his mouth, but you can’t make anything out. The blood’s in your ears and your heart is in your throat. You can feel Jeonghan saying something at Seungcheol, who glances at you in doubt, and leaves.
By the time you've calmed down, you find yourself in Jeonghan’s room, door half closed.
“Jeonghan?” you question a little weakly as he finally lets go of your arm and sits on the bed, his head in his hands. Is he okay? you wonder, standing helplessly near the door. You call out his name again, “Han? Are you okay?”
You step closer to him but stop when he looks up, startled by the lack of humor in his expression. “What were you doing back there?”
“Um, talking to Cheol.”
“Talking?”
“Are you annoyed at me, right now? Or jealous? I can’t tell.”
Jeonghan goes silent again, gaze dropping to his feet. You’re feeling annoyed by the minute.
“You’re acting like an idiot, Y/N. You don’t know Seungcheol. And you’re drunk.”
There it was: that strict tone of his, that always left you feeling conflicted and hurt. Today you actually tell him about it, “I’m not a kid, Jeonghan, I know what I’m doing.”
He looks up at you when you say that, eyes wide. “I never said that. I’m just saying that you should be more careful.”
“I am being careful,” you retort, a hostile edge to your voice, “I don’t know why you do this.”
“I thought you liked me.”
The words stun you into silence and your ears ring as you freeze. Your eyes don’t leave Jeonghan’s form though, watching him, waiting for him to disappear into nothingness as if this was just a dream. How you wish it was.
But Jeonghan’s on his feet when he notices the horrified look on his face and it’s only when he starts to come closer that you reach for the door.
“No, Y/N, please let’s talk about it–” he grabs hold of you and you feel your vision go blurry with tears, your back hitting the wall when Jeonghan shuts the door behind you.
“I knew it,” you mumble out through tears, “You knew about my feelings?”
Jeonghan’s eyes find yours in the dim lighting of his bedroom and you shiver when his hand tightens around your wrist, “I’ve known for a while. But then you went around flirting with Cheol like it was nobody’s business and I…” he trails off, “I was jealous. And confused.”
You force yourself to breathe out, heart going wild in your chest because of course, Jeonghan’s not addressing the elephant in the room. “Well, I was going to confess to you today and get it out of the way. But there’s no need anymore, I guess?” You cringe at the way you can hear the quiver in your own voice, “Just let me go now?”
“Why?” he asks, “You haven’t even asked me if I like you back?”
You scoff, “God, Jeonghan, you make it sound like we’re in high school or something, all this ‘liking’ talk.” You try to sound stable, only to be contradicted by the tears that leave your eyes, “And I figured you didn’t return my feelings. Or you would’ve done something about it.”
There’s a pause then. A shift. Jeonghan’s grip on you loosens ever so lightly and you fear you’ve understood him too well. For once, you wish you weren’t right.
“You’re right,” Jeonghan breathes out as if on cue, but his grip is still unyielding to your dismay, “Well, I thought I didn’t like you. I mean, you’re really pretty and funny and being around doesn’t tire me out like it does with others, but… I just liked you as a friend.”
Your heart’s shriveling up at his words with uncertainty because he might be talking about your love for him being one-sided but it is also in the past tense… right?
“What are you trying to say, Jeonghan?”
He flinches, “Um, I’m sorry. I just– I’m so confused about my feelings, right now. God, I thought I was more mature than this.”
You can’t help the disdainful laugh that leaves your lips as you push him away, brushing your tears away with the back of your hand. “Look, Jeonghan, I’m sorry I don’t have the time to sit down and help you untangle your feelings… about me. It really hurts to hear you go on about this, honestly. I think I’m just going to leave. Happy birthday, I hope you like your gift.”
–
The night outside is much more welcoming to you now, your shoulders more relaxed than ever now that your stupid crush on Jeonghan’s out in the open for him. You hadn’t expected it to go down like this but well, at least you were right about him already knowing, you know?
Lighter than before, the drinks you’d chugged before to gather courage catch up to you in the moment when you nearly run into a pole on the street. You would have run into it if Seungcheol hadn’t swerved you out the way with a, “Look out!”
“Fuck,” you mumble when you’re steady on your feet, Seungcheol’s hand firm around yours, “Sorry. I was in my head.”
“I know you were but you gotta watch where you’re going, kid,” he scolds, “I don’t want to have to carry your unconscious body to your room.”
You roll your eyes, “What is it with everyone and calling me a kid tonight? So much for keeping up a track record for being reliable and responsible.”
“It’s not that you’re not those things, Y/N,” Seungcheol says, hand still on yours reassuringly, “It’s just that sometimes you’re… dense. And maybe even something of an idiot.”
“Ah! Excuse me!” you protest, “I am not an idiot. Say that to my grades.”
“An idiot as in someone who doesn’t see what’s right in front of them.”
That shuts you for good, then, and you stop walking with a sigh. “I don’t even know about that, anymore.”
Seungcheol watches as you slow down, tears behind your eyes and his heart hurts for you, thanks to his problem. When he’d found you storming out of Jeonghan’s room with fists wiping your tears away, he’d wrapped an arm around you immediately, listening as you quietly told him you needed to leave. He’d offered to walk you home and you’d watched him for a moment before nodding.
“Why are you doing this, Cheol? Shouldn’t you be back there, comforting Jeonghan?”
“See, there it is. The idiot side of you.”
You go silent again, looking down at the hand that was clutched in his a few moments ago.
“...you like me?”
“Bingo. Plus, I don’t think Jeonghan wants to hear from me tonight. Not after I almost kissed you in front of him.”
You let out a surprised sound, hand flying to your mouth when you recall the near-kiss, ears turning impossibly pink under the streetlights. “Fuck, I forgot that happened. I’m sorry? Or you’re welcome?”
“Nah, I can’t thank you till we actually seal the deal,” Seungcheol teases, stepping closer to you and dramatically ducking his head as if going in for a kiss. You push his shoulder away, “Fuck you, Seungcheol.”
“I mean, sure, if you want to!”
“Ugh!” you start walking with a pout on your face, “I hate the guts of the men in this place!”
“That’s not what your face said thirty minutes ago at the bar!”
“Go away, Cheol, or I’m reporting you to the campus authorities.”
“Aww, you called me Cheol even when we’re fighting. Aren’t you the sweetest?”
–
When Monday rolls around, you think you’ve got a good hold on your head this time, especially after a few grueling hours at your shift at the cafe. That is until you spot Jeonghan walking in, hair tied back in a half-ponytail and hands crossed across his white cardigan. The sight of him sends you into a frenzy and you debate your options as being between: ducking behind the counter and switching positions with Joshua, or otherwise, manning up and facing the aftermath of your actions.
You glance at Joshua’s back, his hands busy cleaning the espresso equipment and before you have a minute to ask him to switch, Jeonghan’s at the counter (where’s a line of customers when you need it?), calling you out. “Hey, Y/N, do you think we could talk for a minute?”
You look at him blankly, not expecting him to take the direct route after everything. But you malfunction a little and cut his advances off, “Welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” you ask loudly and then add in a softer voice, “Conversation with me is not on the menu.”
“Hm?” Jeonghan looks devastated at your cold response but his eyes search the menu board frantically anyway, “Uh, I guess I could get just an iced americano, then, please?”
You note that down with a half-smile, and almost go on to ask for a name for the order but decide against it, not wanting to stretch your pettiness limit for the day. “Alright, thank you for your order! Please feel free to take a seat while you wait.”
You relax when he nods with a hesitant smile and takes a seat, close to the window but close enough to the counter to hear his name being called out. You feel the pit in your stomach burn a little at how deflated his shoulders are and you wonder if you ought to drop the act; you’d been into the man for two years now. Right?
But before you can pursue this heart-wrenching line of thought, you’re distracted by the sound of the door opening and– great, it’s Seungcheol. By the surprised look he shoots Jeonghan’s sat figure, they hadn’t planned this… ambush, but you reign in your usual cordiality anyway as Seungcheol approaches you.
“Hey there, morning. How’ve you been?”
What did you have to do to have one customer who came in here for coffee?
“Good afternoon,” you correct him, pleased at the reversal of your first meeting with Seungcheol, who chuckles a little. “Welcome, what can we get you today?”
He pauses, casting a glance to Jeonghan over his shoulder, whose attention is on this interaction, legs crossed and brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, didn’t know he was in here. I just wanted to check up on you.”
“What are you apologizing for?” The question slips before you can remember to be professional and also, a little bit quieter because almost certain that Jeonghan’s heard you by the way he averts his eyes. “Um, I mean, sorry. I can recommend you a drink for the day or do you want to get your usual?”
Seungcheol mulls it over, “Hm, I’m fine with anything you choose for me.”
You pause before punching in the order for a hazelnut mocha, without a double-shot this time. He can deal with the sweetness for a day, you reckon. You glance at Joshua who’s still cleaning up before getting started on the orders because well, it’s a slow day. Or it’s supposed to be.
As you thank Seungcheol for his order and he’s about to step aside to wait, you add in a quick, “And next time, if you want to check up on me, do it when I’m not working.” He does nothing to hide the grin of acknowledgment that takes over his face, a sight that only darkens the storm known as Yoon Jeonghan brewing in the cafe.
You walk over to Joshua, “Dude! Hurry up, we have customers waiting.”
He turns to you slowly, wiping his hands off ever so slowly, even the smile on his face slow. “Don’t worry, it’s just Jeonghan. We know these guys. We can take our time.”
You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if Jeonghan put him up to this act, but don’t question it because even that would be admitting defeat. “Whatever. I’ll make the drinks if you’re going to be annoying. Where’s the syrup for the mocha again?”
Joshua slaps the hand that you’re using to reach for the syrup with a firm, “Uh-uh! Hands off, young lady. That hazelnut mocha is all mine to make. You can work on the iced americano if you really want to help out.”
You groan, throwing your hands up, “So you were slowing things down on purpose, you little bitch.”
“Hello? Please be mindful of the language you use around here. I can report you–”
“Yes, yes, of course, I will just shut up and make that americano so I don’t have to listen to your voice again.”
A few minutes later, you’re scribbling Jeonghan’s name onto the cup, proud with the quick work you’ve made of the drink and also thankful nobody was coming in right now. “Han–” you stop yourself just as the nickname slips your tongue, flinching when you remember you’re supposed to be acting stuck up right now.
You turn, hoping that Jeonghan hadn’t heard you but nevermind that because he’s at your side, quicker than he ought to be really (any other scenario, he would be declaring all kinds of knee problems), that sly grin plastered on his face.
“Hi there,” he greets you, “Called for me, did you?”
“...I did. An iced americano for Jeonghan.” You try hard to make your sentences brief but Jeonghan’s chuckling as he takes the drink from you– using both his hands so that you’re brushing against his. Classic middle school boy behavior.
If anything, this ordeal was making you question if the man was as mature as you’d believed. Either way, he thanks you with a smile and leaves promptly, leaving a very affronted Seungcheol in his wake. “Hey, I thought you said you were gonna wait for me!” he calls out after Jeonghan, who doesn’t respond as he slides out.
“A hazelnut mocha for Seung…Cheol?”
You glare at Joshua who frowns at the name as that was the first he’d heard of it, and the guy just shrugs as he puts the drink down. “Sorry about that. Joshua’s feeling rebellious this afternoon,” you tell a frowny Seungcheol (you are a minute away from admitting how cute he is when he’s upset), “Anyway, here’s your drink, Seungcheol. Have a good day!”
“Cheol!” you call out when you spot the brown head of hair outside the cafe when your shift ends. He’d texted you a while after he’d walked off with his drink in hand, pouting because you insisted on calling him Seungcheol.
meet me after your shift? his text reads.
do u even know when my shift ends dude
no and thats why im asking u. when does your shift end?
… u are insufferable.
insufferable enough to fall 4 u i guess
when are u going to stop holding your feelings for me over my head?
when you do something about them.
meet me at 6 outside the cafe.
Yeah, so you wouldn’t say you’re being your wisest self right now. To begin with, you should probably seek out Jeonghan and find closure of some sort. But something tells you to wait on him, wait till he’s ready to seek you out (no, coming up to you during your work shift did not count). Instead, you choose to pursue the… spark that you have with Seungcheol, his feelings for you aside. The night after Jeonghan’s party he’d made it clear that he didn’t really want anything serious, just to get to know you more while you were still around.
A little fooling around never hurt anyone, right?
So when Seungcheol whines out, “Oh, so I’m back to being Cheol now, huh?” you finally let out the laugh that you’d held back at work at his antics.
“Nobody ever told me you were such a pouty baby,” you tell him, eyes shameless trained on his pink lips.
“I don’t pout for anyone, baby,” Seungcheol shoots back, hand on your back as he leads you somewhere. You look at him in question. “What? We’re getting dinner.”
“I was not aware,” you reply, “But all right. Let’s do it.”
Dinner is comfortable. Which is more than you ask for on a date these days.
“Your dates have really been that bad, huh?” Seungcheol asks you. You shake your head, fork scraping some tiramisu onto it, “You can’t even imagine it, Cheol, it’s hell out there. I’m lucky if the guy pays for the dinner so I don’t have to work an extra shift to make up for it.”
He laughs and you savor the sight, because hanging out with this often hadn’t meant you had become indifferent to his looks. If anything, it was the other way around.
“Thanks for dinner,” you tell him later as he sneaks his hand into yours. You allow yourself to feel guilty for indulging him like this but then he squeezes your hand, “Anything for you, m’lady.”
Later that night, you invite him to your room. “It’s not much,” you add to the invitation, “But you know, I do happen to have some wine in my fridge that Wonwoo forgot to pick up. And my bed’s pretty cozy to watch movies in.”
Seungcheol is breathless by the time you’re in your room, not only because of the trek up the stairs but also the fact that you’d held his hand in yours the whole way up. “Wow, it sure is cold in here,” he comments as you turn the lights. It is the textbook college room, albeit a little bigger since you’re in a single.
You cough, “Um, sorry about that. Let me turn on the heater. And you can sit on my bed…” you pause when you remember the mess you’d left on your mattress this morning, in a hurry to make it to your shift but nevertheless, insistent on putting together a fit.
You sweep up the pile of discarded clothes from your bed and onto an already burdened chair, making a show out of it. You dust your hands off with a smile at Seungcheol who’s been watching with a hand on his hip. “Change your mind about me yet?” you question, teasingly.
He rolls his eyes as he walks closer to you, effectively bumping you onto your bed, the new angle forcing you to look up at him. He kneels in front of you, his smile turning loving as he takes your face into his hands. “Not a chance,” and then he leans in until his warm lips are on yours, the heater whirring irrelevant now that heat’s rushing up to your temples instantly.
You taste him and then pull away, “Mhm. Not so fast, you sly little man. I promised you wine and a movie in my bed. And I,” you say as you crouch in front of your fridge, “am a woman of my word.” You shake the cold bottle of red wine at him and he grins.
An hour later, you’re curled around Seungcheol, glasses of wine long consumed and movie long forgotten in favor of cuddling. You stare at him and then when he smiles shyly, you finger one of his dimples, “Hey. You sure you’re not serious about me? Because I’m…” you hate the way you trail off, the very thought of Jeonghan derailing any sense of coherence you’ve ever had.
“I know,” Seungcheol’s hand comes to your wrist, “I knew I didn’t stand a chance against Jeonghan since I saw you guys fight at the cafe that day. You look at him like he has all the answers.”
“That’s ridiculous,” you brush off, not completely refuting him. “But if you knew, why’d you stick around and… I don’t know, flirt with me?”
Seungcheol laughs into your neck, “Call it a bad habit of mine.” His hands play with your hair now, brushing it away from your face, “I see a pretty girl and I have to charm her.”
You drop your head into his chest with a groan, “Stop! You sound so creepy. Like a predator.”
“Hey!” he protests, his chuckles vibrating through you, “You’re the one who called me charming the other day!”
“Hmm. I guess I did.”
His hands slowly pry you away from his chest and to his face, lips pressing against yours. You smile a little and then open up for him, shifting until you’re situated on top of him. You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to the kiss and – “Shit, you’re a good kisser.” The man underneath you moves you closer with a pleased smirk, voice smug when his lips trail down your neck, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at.”
–
“Sex with older men really is different, huh?”
You gasp at Wonwoo’s vulgar words, slapping his arm mercilessly making him jump away from you. “Dude! Mind keeping it down? We’re in the library, not your mom’s house.”
“Ha! Jokes on you, I wouldn’t be making dirty jokes in my mom’s house because Jeonghan is my mom away from home and he would really kick my ass if he heard me talk about you and Seungchel fucking–”
Another slap on the arm and Wonwoo shuts up, groaning in pain. You grimace when you notice a few heads turning your way at the commotion, and bow in apology. When they’re looking away, you glower at Wonwoo, “Seriously, man, what are you up to? Drop the horny teenager act for once so we can focus on the problem at hand.”
“Judging from the tone of your voice, I’m guessing that you’re not talking about the problem of calculus in front of us, but rather, the problem of… life?”
You stare at Wonwoo blankly, “I’m so glad you find this entertaining.” As you’re about to continue giving him a piece of your mind, your phone buzzes, cutting you off much to Wonwoo’s relief, who sneaks a look over your shoulder anyway.
cheol: rate last night on a scale of ‘okay’ to ‘let's meet up again tonight’?
You scoff at the audacity and Wonwoo’s already clinging onto this new piece of evidence. “Oh, so what was that about this being a one-time thing? Next thing I know you’re moving in with him when you graduate.”
You slam your phone face down, “Listen, I know you think this is a joke but it’s not. I’m not going to sleep with Cheol again because that’s obviously the right thing to do. But as for Jeonghan, well, it’s been radio silence from him all week.”
“And since when have you let Jeonghan take the lead on your relationship with him? You know he’s a working man so I’m not surprised he’s not texting you at noon on a Wednesday.”
You glare at Wonwoo, “Seungcheol is also very much a working man? I don’t see your point. And also, I don’t know when this became a competition between the two?”
“Since you confessed to one and then slept with the other?”
You exhale heavily, unable to shoot him down because he was at least a little bit correct. Instead you heave your head into your arms. “Maybe I should just fake my death and move away.”
“You’ll give up your dreams of graduation over a stupid love triangle, consisting purely of men?”
“Shit. You’re right. That’s not happening,” you look up, “Jeon Wonwoo, what would I do if you weren’t by my side bringing me to my senses? You’re the best friend I ever had.”
“Actually, your use of ‘friend’ is very offensive to me,” he complains, fisting his palm dramatically, “I consider myself one of the girls. Or even better, your guardian. Refer to me as Your Highness exclusively or I will not listen.”
You stand up with a screech of your chair, “Okay, that was the last of your reasonable thinking. I’m going to go to my shift and work until I can no longer think or pine.”
“Great plan, young one!”
“Touch grass while I’m gone and you might have hope yet.”
–
“Look, I really don’t think we should be doing this anymore.”
Seungcheol laughs, eyes searching your face for signs of humor. You flash him a grimace of seriousness and doom. He deflates. “I saw this coming. Should’ve known you would only ever ask me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner to break up with me.”
You flick his forehead, “Break up? Don’t call it that. It gives people the wrong idea.”
“Interesting, Y/N L/N admits to caring about whether or not people get the wrong idea about us. Very interesting,” he comments, not at all sneaky with the way his arm snakes around you, “Anyway, you want me to pay for dinner and what, drag my sorry ass back to Jeonghan’s place?”
You stiffen at the mention of Jeonghan and then sigh, the following conversation almost inevitable given your current situation. “So speaking of Jeonghan, has he been talking?”
“Um, yeah, he sure has been opening his mouth and saying words.”
“Fuck you, I meant as in, about me? Has he said anything?”
“Not in specific. Although he did inquire if I had slept over at your place two nights ago and when I said yes, he threw a slice of half-eaten apple in my face. Since then whenever I see him, I duck.”
“That’s very funny.”
“Don’t worry, I made sure to tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are–”
“That was not needed.”
“–And how you accidentally moaned his name on my cock.”
You glare at him, “What about those statements made you think they were okay to voice out loud, not only once but twice?”
As Seungcheol comes up with a witty defense for his lapse in judgment, your phone buzzes next to your thigh and the name that pops up has you zoning everything out instantly.
han: hey, can we talk?
You look away from the screen and breathe out, “And that makes two of us dragging our sorry asses to Jeonghan’s place.”
When you knock on his door, the last thing you expect to see is a red-eyed, very sniffly Jeonghan. Heck, you hadn’t ever even come close to imagining the heartbroken look on Jeonghan’s face, his eyes downcast when you visibly look taken aback at his state.
“Han?”
“Hey,” his voice is hoarse and good lord, you can’t stand this. “Let’s sit in the living room. I was going to go grab some water anyway.”
You follow him speechlessly, watching the way his hands disappear into the sleeves of the black sweatshirt that hangs loose around his frame. You keep watching when he reappears, and it’s when he sits down quietly, fingers whitening around the glass of iced water in hands that you lose it.
“Talk to me, Han. Are you okay?” you breathe deeply to contain the multitude of concerned questions that threaten to leave your system. For one, you didn't know how to interpret the crestfallen expression he held up when he met your eyes. While someone like Wonwoo (aka a naive little kid) would argue that the only reasonable explanation for it would be that he was devastated that you’d been avoiding him the past week. But knowing what you did about him, you couldn’t let go of the possibility that he was just mourning the impending loss of a friend, i.e. you, when he breaks it to you that he doesn’t like you back.
Jeonghan senses you’re in your head when you’ve been staring at him for a moment too long, mouth agape, so he moves closer, taking the water out of your hands and placing it next to his emptied glass.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Fuck. An apology?
You stammer, “S-Sorry? Why?”
“I’m sorry I called you an idiot the other day. You’re the farthest thing from an idiot– and you’re definitely not a kid. I’m so sorry that I made you feel like that. I just… I’ve been thinking about us, and I realized that somewhere along the way, I became really over-protective of you. I started treating you like you were fragile or something, and I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m listening,” you tell him, frown letting up now that he’s finally speaking up.
“And I’m sorry for being a cowardly little bitch about my feelings for you,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lap where your fingers play with the fabric of your shirt uneasily. He stops your fiddling, his hands coming to envelope both of yours. “I’m the idiot for thinking I could be anything other than in love with you.”
“Huh,” you exhale again, biting your lip to hold the smile that threatens to spill.
“And finally, I’m sorry for not doing anything about it when I knew your feelings were mutual. As you know, I’m getting old and–”
You stop any further stupidity from leaving his lips by – you guessed it – by pressing your lips against them. He lets out a surprised gasp and your smile finally turns into a giggle when his hands tighten around yours in your lap.
You pull away, only to detach your hands so you can bury them in his hair instead and Jeonghan smiles at you, his eyes crescents as they watch you lovingly and you think: the pain was worth it.
Jeonghan’s smile widens when he feels you thumb at his skin, tenderly tracing his eye-bags.
“You look terrible, Han, I’m sorry,” you mutter, kissing his cheeks and then his forehead. He’s already mellowing under your hold and he hums, low, “You should be. I went to hell and back when Seungcheol announced he slept with you. I mean, what were you thinking?”
You break, guiltily looking away. “That was not my smartest moment but I was also very distraught about my relationship with a certain someone who wouldn’t contact me outside of my working hours.”
“You and your stubborn need to remain professional. Y/N, it’s a campus cafe, I don’t think anyone’s going to care if you break your act once in a while. I don’t know, if I don’t get a kiss the next time I visit you– I might just rethink this.”
You scoff in disbelief, “You’re a real pain in the ass, Jeonghan. Maybe I’ll just go back to my room and cry myself to sleep.” But as soon as you make moves to stand up, Jeonghan’s bringing you back to sit, taking the chance to pull you closer into a hug. “You will do no such thing.”
You freeze when you feel his nose settle into your shoulder, warm breaths relaxing when your hands reclaim their place in his hair. “I love you, Y/N.”
A beat passes and with a kiss to his head, you return, “I probably love you more, old man.”
“If we’re going to date, that nickname has got to go!”
“What? You’re the one who was complaining about your knee problems last week. It’s fine, I can add this relationship to my list of community service activities.”
Jeonghan pulls away, standing up abruptly and jerking you upward as well. Your smile falters but then, he’s steering you to his bedroom, throwing the door shut with a grunt. You side-eye him, “What’s up–” He cuts you off, lips hot against yours.
A few minutes later, when his tongue finally lets up, he mutters, “I just remembered that you kissed Seungcheol with this mouth. I’ve gotta do everything I can to erase that memory.”
“I can’t tell if you want me to forget… or yourself.”
“Shh, I bet he couldn’t even– Wait, why aren’t you wearing a bra? Don’t tell me you were–!”
“You sure love asking questions, old man,” you whine and before Jeonghan can question you further, you take ahold of his hand, sliding it over your stomach and down the waistband of your jeans, the space tight and hot but not as hot as the groan Jeonghan lets out when he feels you. “Holy fuck, you’re wet.”
You grin when he falls to his knees, your jeans unbuttoned and pulled down in next to no time. “There’s more where that came from,” you mumble before he’s between your thighs, ripping out scream after scream from your throat.
–
Genuinely and honestly, if you’d foreseen waking up in Jeonghan’s bed, his hair a mess from last night but face comfortably snuggled in your arm– you would’ve been less mean to Wonwoo. Because it turns out that his voice (of reason? or of deviance? you would never figure it out) in your head had been right: Jeonghan did return your feelings all those times you thought he might.
He tells you all about it when you’ve collapsed later that night, replacing the curses on your lips with dampness in your eyes because of how vulnerable he is, pouring his heart out to you like this.
Propped up on an elbow, he played with your hand, “I remember when you first came over with Wonwoo. I thought I’d met myself, but younger and prettier and sillier.”
“I hate it when you combine insults with compliments so I can’t attack you.”
“I learnt that from you, silly,” he kisses your nose but continues, “But honestly, the more we talked, the more I realized how different you are from me. I mean, sure, are you tired out of your mind half the time like me? Yeah. But you were so observant and so keen on getting to know people. It’s hard to come across people who are invested in friendships for more than just small talk and someone to have meals with.”
But just as he’s getting deep on you, he adds, “Plus, you smell a whole lot better than anyone else. I’d go crazy sitting next to you, especially because you just love to throw yourself at people in laughter.”
“Not that I’m complaining–” he stops your protests quickly, “I swear my heart would skip a beat everytime you laughed at something I said. And then the time we were talking about ideal types and you got all flustered over everyone teasing you about me? Dude, I had to run to the kitchen before I could do something rash. Like kissing you in front of everyone. Or worse, bride-style carrying you into my room so I could enjoy the adorably lovesick look on your face.”
You groan into his pillow, “Stooop. This is just embarrassing for me. It’s not like I was trying to be obvious.”
“I know, baby,” he coos, gentle hands prying you away from the pillow, “But you know, you have the same look on your face right now.” He laughs, kissing the pout off your lips with a sweet, “For what it’s worth, I was yours for a long time. Just took a minute for me to realize it.”
You huff but smile despite it and pull him closer, “I’m glad. Now hold me to sleep or I’m gonna be sad.”
Another laugh reverberates through the two of you when he slides down, pulling the sheets closer over you, and pats your back as you settle into him with a satisfied sigh. “Sleep well, my love.”
–
“And when I’m gone, please don’t stop eating breakfast in the morning. I know you think that it’s consequential to your life completely,” Seungcheol pauses for dramatic effect, “but it’s important. It could be the difference between living 20 less years or 50 more.”
“How scientifically true is that?” you mumble to Jeonghan under your breath, who being the devious little brat he is voices your concern, earning you a look from Seungcheol.
“Whatever, I knew my words were undervalued in this household ever since you guys started dating and refused to keep it down at night. Like, it’s not that hard, right?”
You punch Jeonghan’s arm to both keep him from telling the dick joke he’s about to say and also, to show Seungcheol that you wanted no part in this. “I told this guy to keep you in mind but that just made him mad which in turn led to… screaming. Sorry.”
Seungcheol sighs as he glances at his watch, “Okay, okay. I have to get going now so bring in whatever last-minute reconciliations you two have for me.”
Jeonghan steps forward and hugs the man, surprising both the latter and you. But you watch with a pleased smile playing on your lips, relieved that their friendship still seemed to go strong, bumps and all. When it’s your turn to hug Seungcheol, you scoff at the hesitant look he casts at your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his middle.
“Thanks for everything, Cheol. Keep in touch. And do something about this second-lead syndrome of yours. I better catch you in a happily stable relationship of your own next time around.”
Seungcheol chuckles quietly, waiting for you to pull away to say, “If that’s an order from the main female lead, then I guess I have no choice, do I? Unless,” his eyes mischievously stray to Jeonghan who already knows what’s coming next, “the male lead fucks up and leaves a certain pretty girl single, huh?”
You don’t have time to decipher if that’s a threat wrapped up in a punchline because Jeonghan’s arm’s around your shoulder, moving you away and besides you, he says, “You’ll be waiting all your life if you wait on me to fuck this up. Bye, Cheol, I can see that your Uber just pulled up.”
“Ha! Good one. Alright, this is goodbye for now. See y’all on my feed. Or it might be better if I don’t. Anyway, bye and don’t kill anyone.”
With Seungcheol gone, you look up at Jeonghan with a smug smirk, “Oh, so you plan on sticking around with me forever? That’s a long time, you know.”
Your boyfriend chuckles, his eyes twinkling, “Please, if I had the patience to watch you hug Seungcheol right in front of my eyes, being with you forever will be a breeze in the park. So yes, I plan to stick to you forever, like superglue.”
“Gross, you couldn’t say something romantic like candy or syrup?”
“Sorry, babe, but I was just distracted by how all mine you are that I couldn’t think of anything else.”
“Never mind, I think it’s worse when you’re all cheesy. Go back to being gross?”
“I love you. Now, come here so I can kiss every single surface of your face. And then we can go on a walk and tell everyone who told me to give up to suck it.”
You lose balance when the laughter finally escapes your mouth but thankfully, Jeonghan’s arms are around you, promising and playful when you meet his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. I love you. So I guess we can do all the weird annoying stuff you want to do for now.”
Despite your banter though, the two of you are so happy together that you’re shocked by the picture of you with Jeonghan that Wonwoo Airdrops, after your walk. You have the dopiest smile on your face and Jeonghan’s looking at you with a cheesy grin. You hate to admit it but you do look like an “old married couple” like Wonwoo’s text teases. But for once, you give in, snuggling closer to Jeonghan’s body because well, yeah, you did plan to stick to him. Like superglue.
–
#once again apologizing#jeonghan x reader#seungcheol x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#svt fluff#svt angst#svt x reader#yoon jeonghan#choi seungcheol#seventeen smut#jeonghan angst#seungcheol angst
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Unraveled 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.
Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)
Note: I hope you all enjoy this random idea.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
One hand guides the fabric as the other turns the wheel. Your work is slow but steady, every stitch perfect, every seam precise. Your fare may be modest and your product simple, but its quality cannot be contested. Your labour as yourself is honest and plain.
The noise of the machine is your only company. The one-room shop nestled behind the butcher’s rarely sees a customer through its door. Instead, the orders are sent from the factories, returned with the printed adverts you disperse outside their doors. The writs are sent along with an envelope of pence and shilling and you complete each with equal diligence before sending them back bundled in paper and twine.
The operation isn’t especially fruitful but the profit is enough to subsist. Enough to guarantee your independence; a small apartment just above and a pot of stew to last you through each week. This humble existence is preferable to any marriage you’ve witnessed.
The letters from your sisters reaffirm your spinster’s fate. You’d rather a hand wheel and a needle than a brood and broken back. A husband seems to provide several jobs at once, you’ll happily settle for one.
As your hands work from memory and your head wanders from tedium, the bell above the door gives a single sharp toll. You ease the wheel to a halt and leave the seam unfinished. You peer up above the black iron machine, reminding yourself to fix your hunch as a client enters. You can’t but wonder if he may have come to the wrong shop.
By his attire, he is a class above the factory women who require gray skirts and simple stays. His waistcoat is embroidered and his jacket is pressed and clean. He is tall, locks part tidily so his curls lay gracefully. His face is fresh-shaven, square jaw with a cleft, and shoulders broad and strong. He does not share the same sinewy gauntness as the labourers with the coal-dusted noses.
He carries a fine leather bag. Another clue to his status. His shoes, another. Polished and without creases.
You stand to greet him, “good afternoon, sir. Might I help you with something?”
His answer is not prompt. He takes in the finished dresses hung by the east wall and turns to examine the rolls of wool and cotton. At last, he returns his attention to you.
“Afternoon,” his deep timbre fills the small space, “you are the dressmaker.”
It isn’t a question, but you answer, “I am.”
He narrows his eyes as he approaches your desk, the sole fixture in the space. From without, the shop is just as bare. The blackened windows offer not insight into the business, its only suggestion the sign hung above the door, though the paint requires a fresh coat.
“And the shop owner?”
“That is me as well, sir,” you assert. The presumption is not uncommon.
“Ah,” he accepts your explanation without comment, “so, you will have sewn this.”
He puts his bag on the desk, nearly knocking your shears from the corner. You try not to flinch as they teeter near the edge and he pulls open the top of the leather bag. He pulls out a swath of grey. You recognise it and he rolls the cuff to show your initials sewn within.
“Sir,” you say precariously, “is there some issue with it? Is it your wife’s dress?”
“Wife? No, no,” he dismisses, feeling the fabric between his fingers, “rather I am in search of the dress’s owner. The initial must belong to them, yes? So you would have a name for the buyer.”
“Mm, no, those are mine,” you point at the letters, “as it is my handiwork.”
“That makes sense,” he frowns in disappointment. “So you wouldn’t know who would wear it?”
You rub your chapped lips together. You find your tongue sliding over them often when you work, turning them raw with the habit. The man’s lips are rosy and smooth, as well-kempt as the rest of him. He is no factory worker’s husband.
“I might… would you take it out?” You ask.
He obliges as you pluck up the metal cylinder from your desk and unfurl the tape measure from within. He shakes out the dress, holding it by the shoulders to reveal salt stains along the skirts and unleashing a dingy smell in the shop. You wiggle your nose at the stench but worse roils in from the butcher’s on hot days.
You take the measure of the sleeves and the waist, then to the hem. You scribble the numbers on a scrap and take that to compare with your ledger. The measurements are in now way defining but might narrow it down. He keeps the dress aloft and you return to him to check the thread along the seams. A few months ago, you changed the thickness as the factory workers complained of splits under the arms.
“Hm, it is a recent purchase,” you assure him and return to the ledge.
He lowers the dress and approaches. You snap the book closed and turn your face up to consider him once more, “why do you need to know, if it is not your wife?”
“You are very discerning,” he remarks as he folds the dress and drapes it over his bag, “I’m certain then you can surmise the woman who wore this dress did not meet a kind fate.” He tugs up the hem and shows a tear trimmed in scarlet, the colour not obvious from a distance. “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I’m a detective and I’m trying to identify a poor woman found not far from here. I believe it is in your own interest that I discover her assailant.”
“I cannot say for certain which she is,” you turn over the scrap and re-open the ledger. You write down three names which match the measurements and hold the paper out to him. He takes it, his thick fingertips brushing yours. “Those are the ones which align with the dress.”
“Mm,” he hums as he tucks the paper into his chest pocket, “and your name? I couldn’t make it out on the sign.”
You recite your name flatly, “it isn’t on the sign.”
“It requires new paint,” he admonishes, “I could hardly find you.”
“I am aware,” you reply. “Thank you for noting.”
He’s quiet, “being a detective, however, I did indeed put together the clues.”
Is he making a joke? You cannot tell. He folds up the dress completely and puts it back in the leather bag. The smell persists.
“What are you prices?” He asks abruptly.
“Sir, I sew dresses for factory women, sometimes a few communion pieces, but I’m afraid I don’t do much suit work.”
“My sister requires a dress,” he sniffs, “as simple as it is, I can see your work is fine.”
“I have only wools and cottons,” you counter.
“Do you always turn away business?” He challenges.
“I wasn’t, sir, I’m only clarifying what I currently do. My prices are set for those fabrics,” you explain.
“I will pay for the muslin and velvet,” he waves his hand staunchly, “you will be paid for your labour. Can you sew with more than wool and cotton?”
“I can, sir, but you could find a ready-made dress in a market boutique if the dress is required promptly.”
“I can afford the time and coin,” he insists. “You are not a talented advertiser, are you?”
You’re taken aback by his bluntness. Often, his ilk have that demeanour. It’s why you’d rather the factory workers and the fish sellers’ wives.
“I suppose not,” you agree, “I would need measurements before I begin. You may send the numbers along with the fabric, then. And I would require a style. Perhaps your sister is a purveyor of fashion magazines?”
“I will send a messenger,” he shrugs. “Thank you for your time. I shan't get in your way any longer.”
“Good day, sir.”
“Good day to you,” he takes the bag from your desk and the shears fall to the floor with a clatter.
You skirt around to grab them as he bends and swipes them up first. You recoil as he closes the blades with a snap. He examines them before placing them back on the desk.
“Apologies,” he says, “and miss,” he looks at you, “take to heart what I’ve told you today. Keep away from the allies and perhaps you may consider locking your door.”
“Thank you, sir, your concern is appreciated.”
“Rather you might just keep those close, eh,” he points to the shears and his cheek dimples.
Again, you can’t be certain of his humour. You keep a placid expression, neither smiling nor scowling. He clears his throat and runs his hand down his jacket, gripping the lapel.
“Very well then, I’ll be off.”
He turns on his heel and marches to the door. You stay by the desk as the bell rings with his departure. Once the door closes, you cross the shop. You turn the lock into place, his foreboding lingering with the stale scent of dirty water.
🪡
Despite the unusual visit, your days roll on like a hand on a clock. The thought of the woman’s tragic fate looms like a shadow but fades. You have too much stitching to do to fret over that man and his ominous words. You assume his interest in your work thereafter was wholly feigned as he does not return.
That day, you pass off six parcels to Eustace, the driver who takes them down to the stacks to hand off to the floor bosses who will parse them out to the women they’ve been cut for. You pay him his toll before he climbs back into the seat of his cart, his horse kicking impatiently.
“Excuse me, sir,” another driver clops up along the other side of the street, a narrow squeeze between the slanting buildings. “I’m in search of a dressmaker. I believe the store is tucked behind the butcher’s and…” the man’s voice drifts off as his eyes flit to the meat sellers marquee.
“Right here, good sir,” Eustace responds, “wouldn’t ya know, she’s right here.”
You lift your chin to see past the cart and spy the driver. He removes his cap as his gaze meets yours. Eustache dips his chin as he adjusts his own hat and snaps his old mare into a canter. As you're left alone with the carriage driver, a vehicle rather lofty for a block like this, you fold your hands behind you.
“Sir, you hardly look in need of a work woman’s dress,” you say.
“Miss,” he ties the reins off and jumps down from his seat, “I am sent for you, not a dress.”
“For me?” You echo.
“Mr. Holmes has sent,” he crosses the muck and nearly slips. “He said he made an appointment for a seamstress.”
“An appointment? I wasn’t informed of the time,” you rebuff. “I’ve a shop to run, orders paid for. I can’t simply leave.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Holmes made mention of a fee,” the man feels around his striped coat, “he said a deposit would be needed.”
He takes out a brown envelope and hands it over. You take it, a small weight within. You look at the driver before you pull back the flap and peek inside. A large gold sovereign sits in the corner of the paper; a whole pound. That’s at least three days work.
You hold your breath, trying to maintain some composure. If that’s the deposit, what is he offering for the rest? You slip out the folded paper within, a page torn from a fashion journal. The dress is elegant if not extravagant. You don’t often do off-the-shoulder or ruffles like that but it isn’t beyond your skill.
You fold the flap closed again and lift your chin to face the driver, “I must lock up, you see?”
“Take your time, miss,” he says kindly. “Mr. Holmes isn’t expecting you to hurry.”
“Thank you, sir,” you bow your head and turn away.
You measure your steps along the facade of the butcher’s shop and curl around to the alleyway. You let yourself into your shop and tuck the envelope into your apron pocket. You take your sewing bag from under the desk and shake off the dust. You don’t often have reason to use it.
You open it up and pack away your shears, a measuring tape, pins with a cushion, your notebook, and a few other bits and bobs. Just in case. You grab a role of linen from against the wall. It’s heavy but you can manage.
You take the key from your desk drawer and switch off the overhead light. You lock the door and continue back out to the street. The driver puffs smoke from a pipe as he waits.
“Miss, allow me,” he snuffs out the pipe and puts it in his pocket. He nears and reaches for the roll of linen.
“It’s quite alright, sir,” you say.
“I insist, miss, can’t have a lady doing all that,” he takes it, not forcefully, and you let him.
As he goes to the carriage and opens the door, you give pause. You don’t know if you should be so easily swayed on a gold coin. Mr. Holmes hadn’t been entirely pleasant and you do prefer your simple work. Still, you can hardly turn your nose up at a pound. Not with the summer fizzling to a finale.
You lift your skirts and cross the street to the open carriage, “sir, might I have a name?”
“Gavin,” he answers, “and I have yours. Mr. Holmes made sure of it.”
“Yes, very good,” you say as you approach, another sliver of doubt trickling through. Mr. Holmes claimed to be a detective but is that really the reason he was strolling around with a dead woman’s dress? You gulp and look at Gavin then the carriage, “might I keep the window open?”
“Surely you can,” he agrees amiably. “Mr. Holmes lives quite a ways, shouldn’t mind the air. I’ll be certain to stay away from the stacks.”
“Thank you, sir,” you accept his proffered hand and he helps you up into the carriage.
You settle on the bench as the door shuts and you open the window from within. You lean back, your hand grasping the top of your bag. You unclasp it as you feel Gavin climb up on the driver’s seat. You dip your hand inside and clutch your long shears.
You don’t forget all of what Mr. Holmes said.
#sherlock holmes#enola holmes#dark sherlock holmes#dark!sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#unraveled
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okay, is it just me or is a hellhound reader x velvette a really good idea? like- her guard dog who she messes with and pokes fun with- I've been toying with that but with a butch reader too AUGH
a/n — OH MY GOD. You’re a genius.
I don’t know if you intended this but—
Velvette x Hellhound!Bodygaurd!Reader
You know she would be all over her hellhound bodyguard in a way that’s so not subtle. She’d be touching you shoulder, chest, fingers grazing a little to close your hands.
Of course, if you ever called her out on this, she’s denying immediately. But in a way that drives you absolutely crazy.
“Someone’s got an active imagination.” “Darling please, if I was flirting you’d know.”
But then she’d wink and giggle, leaving you to wonder if that was flirting or not.
The butch reader part you mentioned is interesting to me because I actually think she’d find more masculine woman very hot.
Like yes, she loves femmes because she gets to do their hair and makeup and their nails, etc! But also I think she has a soft spot for butches.
Especially if you’re strong too. Fuck, she’d find that so hot.
Like constantly slyly squeezing your muscles when greeting you. Oh, but what do you mean? She’s not flirting.
But she so is. In fact, she’s taunting you, egging you on, daring you to do anything about it.
And it adds to the appeal to her that you’re a hellhound. The idea of that kind of scandal is everything to her; an overlord and her hellhound.
She plays with fire by doing her ‘subtle’ flirting in public, just to see if anyone talks about it online. She would love that kind of attention.
If her evil plan is a success, she’ll up the stakes a little bit. Almost full-on clinging to your arm, squeezing close to you while walking.
Vox might even have to half a talk with her about ‘image’ and what-not. Of course, she wouldn’t take it seriously. After all, what’d she have to worry about? Nothing was actually happening.
God forbid she suggests you go out to eat. Watch the internet blow up with theories about you two dating.
So once again, you’d ask her what the fuck she thinks she’s doing and if she’s into you. You receive a simple, yet sinister reply.
“Oh darling, don’t you wish.”
So with that, you accept your dynamic; Velvette teases you obnoxiously, and you don’t put up with her shit.
Maybe in the end you start playing into it a little. Of course in your own guard dog kind of way. Maybe you throw your coat over a puddle for her to walk on.
Fuck it, actually just pick her up and carry her across.
She’d laugh and make a comment about how you’re “ruining her image” as if she hasn’t been since the second she saw you.
Now, after a while, feelings for each other would be a little hard to deny.
Still though, the dynamic wouldn’t change. Velvette pokes fun at you, flirts a little, and you tell her to knock it off.
Until you flirt back. Maybe she tells you to do something and condescendingly calls you ‘good dog.’
“You should watch what you say, princess,” and you get really close to her.
See, usually you don’t flirt back. But this was so clearly flirting that Velvette actually blushes.
Dear god, after that, the next time you flirt is the breaking point. She’d pull you down by your shirt collar and kiss you roughly.
Velvette would push you down on the nearest surface and not hesitate to sit on your lap. Of course, you’d wrap your arms around her and rest your hands on the small of her back, pulling her in.
Needless to say, leading to probably the hottest make out session of Velvettes time in hell.
And so starts the casual, incredibly hot, workplace affair with her hellhound.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin velvette#velvette x reader
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can you do hcs of being chris’ gf and also matt’s and nick’s bff
— being chris’ girlfriend + matt and nick’s best friend. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: fluff, cursing, suggestive, not proofread.
a/n: i love this omg?? keep feeding into my delusions please and thank you.
— most times, you help them film their videos. you’re not really in them but they all love it when you’re their camera girl.
— when you’re at their house, you have to hang out in chris’ room, otherwise nick and matt are constantly talking to you.
— sometimes you’ll be in the pool with nick and forget your phone around the house, then when chris comes home looking for you, he just finds you out with nick. (“jesus, i thought you got kidnapped or something.” “by your brother, yeah.”)
— movie nights with chris start off normally, just you two cuddling on his bed and watching a random movie you picked out, but somehow nick and matt end up crashing it. chris gets so pissed because they’re interrupting your date but you have to reassure him that it’s fine.
— you’re always in their photo dumps LMFAOO. most of the time, their comments are filled with “spot y/n challenge go.”
— you and chris can’t have a proper date in his house because nick and matt always crash it. so you end up having to hang out at your place or coming up with outside date ideas (museums, picnics, etc.)
— one time you and chris were making out in his room, you were straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands were on your waist— then suddenly, a loud scream from the door. shit. matt.
— “the door wasn’t even open.” “well it definitely wasn’t shut either, kid.” “shut the fuck up matt.” “dumbass.” “what did you say?”
— sometimes you and chris peacefully fall asleep on call, then you wake up at 3 am because matt stole his phone. he ends up begging you to go to the gas station and get slushies. you do.
— you three have a groupchat LMFAOO chris hates it because matt, nick and you always gang up on him.
— whenever they get in arguments with each other, it’s possibly the worst day of your life. all three of them tell you their side of the argument. (of course you side with your boyfriend, but you appreciate their trust in you LMFAOO.)
— you’ll get calls at midnight from matt asking you to get rid of chris because he’s being extremely annoying. followed up by a call from chris telling you to not listen to matt.
— you go with them on tour obviously. you and chris sleep together despite both of you having your own little bed.
— i feel like chris would be the clingiest boyfriend ever gn, especially if you’re best friends with his brothers LMFAOO.
— you’re always hanging around his house without him even knowing it. this one time he was out for whatever reason and when he came back he found you and matt in the backyard playing pokemon go. safe to say he was confused.
— on a certain occasion, you and chris were baking cookies. after you took them out of the oven, you left them out on the counter to cool down— big mistake. when you came back five minutes later, the cookies were long gone. chris was pissed.
— whenever chris wants to plan some grand gesture or big date, his brothers help him 110%. on one of your anniversaries he filled your room up with balloons and chocolates. like, on an insane level. after the whole celebration you had to call and thank nick and matt for the help.
— despite them denying it, matt and nick think your relationship is so cute. they’re your #1 fans honestly.
— ^ which means they take pictures of you all day every day. chris sends you random ass pictures of you two it’s so funny. (“look at the pic matt took of us lol” “when did he even take that hello????” “idk but we look so cute”)
— chris is head over heels for you and he loves that you have such a good relationship with his brothers. it makes everything a lot easier since you can tag along to trips, tour, and just be with him a lot more.
— whenever chris posts you on social media, he posts the cutest couple pictures. however, the comments always include matt and nick with something along the lines of (“PARENTS” “you’re both disgusting” “get a ROOM”)
#lucvly#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo imagine#nick sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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sory if this is asked already buttttt🍑
yk that trend where girls stand next to cops/soldiers etc and do the "Everybody kmows that im a good girl Officer" thing😭
plsplsplspps pls pretty pls please with extra sugar and whipped cream ad ice vream and a big forehead kiss can you do 141 + könig reacting to reader (fem) doing this 💗💗💗
OMG THIS SCREAMS GAZ FOR SOME REASON I KNOW HE'D BE THE MOST REACTIVE (second to Johnny ofc)
You stand there with your phone as the audio plays and you act all cutesy and innocent in front of the big soldier in front of you.
Everybody knows that I'm a good girl officer you say with the audio hoping to get a reaction.
Gaz - He'd break so fast. So damn easily my god. He'd smile so big at the camera then at you with his handsome pretty face ugh he makes me sick. Who told him he could be so gorgeous and charming.
He'd cross his arms over his chest, smile not hidden by his sunglasses nor his hat as he tries to regain his composure.
RAHHH I LOVE HIM SO BAD
Johnny - He'd glance at you first before the camera. Then as he fully hears the audio he smirks and raises an eyebrow, as if to tell the camera "yeah right". He smirks and leans in to whisper something in your ear and your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth as you end the video before the audio is even over. Then he's cackling like a hyena because he's insane and I need him and I love him.
Simon - He wouldn't even pay attention at first. But then he sees how pretty you are and he gives a little curious side eye, not even paying attention to the phone. Arms crossed over his chest, legs spread apart, he hears the audio and realizes what you're doing. His eyes never once looking at the camera, he stares at you, smirk hidden under his mask and his shoulders move with a little chuckle. (Everyone in the comments is going insane at the way he never takes his eyes off you and how you got him to break a little) the audio ends and you giggle shyly like a school girl as you thank him for the little video (He's hard now).
Price - He looks at the camera immediately, eyebrows furrowed like a confused dad trying to read what their kid is showing him on their phone. He hears the audio and his eyebrows shoot up and he looks at you. Arms also crossed over his chest he tilts his head down at you and says "Yeah I bet you are sweetheart." Then he looks forward as if you weren't even there with the cockiest smirk mankind has ever seen. (The comments are going insane over what this absolute sexy dilf of a man said to you to make you go stiff, speechless, open mouthed and wide eyed in the video).
Price saying sweetheart would cause 12983 fatalities and 12930849 injuries.
König - He goes stiff, looks so fucking nervous, because what is this pretty little thing doing giving him attention?? His arms are at his side as he tries to not look at you, but he glances down at the camera and hears the audio. His eyes widen (The comments go absolutely feral over how tall he is and his eyes widening at the suggestive words in the audio) Then he looks down at you and he smiles, eyes crinkling under the hood as he shakes his head, crosses his arms and looks away all shy like a cutie (because he knows you would be such a good girl for him RAHHHHHHH)
Yes I know this 6'10 war criminal is a big tough man but he is a cutie pie in my eyes.
#call of duty#cod#cod mw#cod mw2#cod mw3#konig#konig cod#konig x reader#gaz#kyle gaz garrick#gaz cod#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#tf 141 x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#soap cod#soap x reader#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost#ghost x reader#john price#john price x reader
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GENSHIN MEN & THEM BEING YOUR ROOMMATES .
characters. xiao kaeya diluc childe itto alhaitham kaveh x reader
genre. romantic fluff, can be seen as platonic too, suggestiveness in itto's part
an. ueueue... ueueue... ueueue | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
disappears during the day, comes back at night. your first text to your friend (when you arrived at the apartment) was "this guys like a midday batman kinnie lol" but he also somehow leaves everything spotless?? xiao barely spends time at home but in the five minutes that he actually does, all the dishes are washed and everything packed up... you're starting to think that he's a mary poppins kinnie instead
kaeya
he's a mess.. also kind of a slut at home in the sense that he unbuttons his pants the minute he steps through the door but his shirt is always long so. so. yeah. tbh he's not a very messy roommate, he just ends up leaving too many glass bottles behind that you have to clean up #notaslay #pickupyourowntrash #savetheearth
diluc
very nice roommate, adelinde comes over to clean the apartment once a week and when she does you literally go puppy eyed because she brings her cooking for the both of you. the fridge is always stocked with mama adelinde's food and the floors are always shining with her hard work. diluc does some of the dishes though i guess that counts
childe
good roommate. with his numerous siblings, he knows how to get stains and stuff off surfaces so hes the handy manny and bob the builder in the apartment. need something fixed up? he's got you. lightbulb has to be changed? he's reaching for the toolbox. your clock broke? can he fix it? yes he can
itto
worst. roommate. ever. every day you come home to find out that either he's a) passed out on the couch b) broken something at home c) had a secret arataki gang meeting and now the place is trashed d) didn't do his work etc etc the list goes on. you're considering kicking him out at this point but his badonkahonkas are so nice to look at ykwim
alhaitham
uhhhhh takes care of finances and taxes and all that boring adult stuff you have to do but alhaitham graciously does for you. makes you a cute little keyring that matches his and kaveh's and he doesn't hide yours!! or take yours!! 10/10 roommate, laugh at kaveh's misery together #youwillwalkalone jk you love kaveh to bits
kaveh
being roommates with him and alhaitham is genuinely so entertaining bc its a free reality tv show. "kaveh what is this behaviour" "im sorry i kicked it by mistake" <- he did not. but you and kaveh also play pranks on alhaitham to i guess that makes up for it?? idk kaveh does the dishes makes the food hashtag malewife i think
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @niiheng @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @ineshapanda @babypetuniaa (send ask to be added to taglist)
#astronetwrk#xiao x reader#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#childe x reader#itto x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#xiao fluff#kaeya fluff#diluc fluff#childe fluff#itto fluff#alhaitham fluff#kaveh fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin impact x gn reader#[📝 stewardess' notepad!]
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10 tips for casual elegance ⋆｡𖦹 °✩
Reading. Reading. Reading. Being well-read is so valuable!! Get cosy, pick up a Jane Austen, Emily Brontë, or maybe a Charles Dickens and spend some of your free time indulging in literature. <3
Soft-spoken and kind expressions. No one likes being around rude people. Being a bitch doesn’t make you look confident. Instead, be kind, make conversation, pay attention, engage, etc… trust me.
Dainty jewellery. Find some high-quality signature pieces.
Think before you speak. Take a moment to reflect on your thoughts so you can speak confidently and with intent without stumbling over your words!! <3
Quality over quantity. Stop buying large amounts of cheap clothing; instead, save up and invest in higher-quality pieces that will actually last you. :)
Practice your handwriting. Having pretty and neat handwriting is a lovely little detail; extra points if you write in cursive. ;)
Drop the tiktok slag. “sticking out your gyat for the rizzler”… just stop, please.
Keep to yourself. Small circle, no bragging, gossips only with the closest, keep your plans to yourself.
Watch your posture. Straighten that back, honey. I see you. :))
Manicured nails. I do mine every two weeks. Almond-shaped, always dark red. <3
As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!! ♡ ₊ ⊹
✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩
#malusokay#girl blogger#pink blog#it girl#that girl#dream girl#coquette#aesthetic#pink pilates princess#pinterest#dior girl#divine feminine#light feminine#feminine energy#girlhood#girlblogging#just girly things#just girly posts#elegant#gossip girl#girly things#pink bows#soft aesthetic#soft pink#girly aesthetic#just girly thoughts#books#jane austen#coquettecore#angel aesthetic
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GLOBAL STRIKE FOR GAZA 1/21-1/28
Apologies for my delay in using my platform, I found out about this strike yesterday and was taking some time to figure out what to say
Palestine has been suffering long before October 2023 and I need everybody to understand that. There is a genocide happening right now and if people don't use their voices to speak up, then they will become a lost cause in our history. We do not want the stories of their people to be told 50 years from now with a side comment like "oh no I wish someone would've done something" or "I can't believe that actually happened." Our voices can spread like a wildfire, so I hope that everybody joins the global strike this week in support of Palestine and uses their voices, social media, platforms, etc to voice their support.
If you are unsure of where to start, I suggest reading up on the history of Israel's occupation of Palestine dating back to 1948. Here is a free PDF download of this book. To be honest, I have not finished reading this book yet, but it's been highly recommended to me by multiple people. Buying the book from the author would be better, but I understand that it's not within everybody's budgets which is why I included that link.
______________________________________________________________
If you follow this link, this is a great guide on how to participate and support the strike this week. Doing every single thing is not realistic but do what you can and that is enough.
Here are some Palestinian journalists you can follow on Twitter, as they are the most reliable source. Many news sources worldwide have been misconstruing this "conflict" and completely ignoring the blatant genocide happening before our eyes. These journalists are Palestinian people who have been living this their whole lives (there are many more people and the Twitter thread can be viewed here)
Additionally, here are some other Twitter accounts that you can receive information from.
I urge everybody (art blogs, fandom blogs, etc) to put their interests on pause for the week and use that time to educate themselves on what's been going on for the last several years. This did not start in October. Keep speaking up and uplift Palestinian voices!
______________________________________________________________
Resources and other ways to help:
BOYCOTT STARBUCKS AND MCDONALDS (among other things)
Donate E-Sims to help journalists be in touch with the rest of the world
Stop supporting Zionist celebrities (ex: Noah Schnapp, Gal Gadot)
Uplift Palestinian journalists
Donate menstrual products to menstruating people in Gaza
Donations to UNRWA, Islamic Relief Canada, Arab (daily clicks and proceeds go to UNRWA)
If I missed anything, please feel free to message me or send me something in my inbox. Again, I urge everybody to pause their week to stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people and continue to uplift their voices. We are all stronger together.
#free palestine#palestine resources#tagging fandom-related things to increase exposure!!! please spread word!#I will refrain from posting DNP-related things for this week as well (with the occasional post to balance out for the algorithm so i don't-#get shadowbanned)#dan howell#phil lester#amazingphil#danisnotonfire#dan and phil#phandom#phan#dnp#dapgames#dan and phil games#dan and phil edit#fandom#meme#shitpost#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#ceasefire#free gaza#palestinian genocide#current events
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#LetSansRest Day!
Hello everyone and welcome to year two of Let Sans Rest Day! Same as last year it's August 9th.
Before we get into some prompts, a little bit of a mission statement. Last year I said this day was for everyone who's a fan of Sans Undertale or anyone who's tired of every image they see of him being him Suffering. This is still true, but I do want to additionally address something I saw a few different people mention.
I have actually received criticism for daring to suggest that Sans not be tormented to the point of insanity, and that this day where I implore people to make realities where Sans doesn't become a creepypasta insane murderer man from the agony he is subjected to, isn't a stand against ableism like Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day is. *stares in bipolar psychosis and PTSD directly into your eyes* Obviously that's a load of shit, and even though Sans is more popular than Papyrus (I say, as a Papyrus Enjoyer) a lot of the content around Sans is very specifically about him suffering. So simply out of spite for these comments (including someone who saw last year's announcement and directly commented "No <3" on the post) I will be continuing this holiday indefinitely, just like LetPapyrusSayFuck Day. Die mad about it.
Just like how I have ADHD and relate to Papyrus and see the way the fandom treats him as the infantilization of neurodivergency like autism and ADHD, I can look at works in this fandom of Sans that demonize traits of mental illness like trauma, hallucinations, delusions, and mania. And I can say these are both bad actually. Not going to call anyone a bad person for engaging in these things, of course, that would be a bit goofy of me, I'm just saying the imagery used for these things is Very Loaded and a lot of people are mishandling them.
So anyways August 9th is the day we let Sans Undertale out of his Torment Nexus so he can:
Have lemonade at the beach or pool
Go stargazing while camping out in the woods with friends and family
Get smothered in cute baby kittens and puppies
Go to therapy and play with one of those magnetic sculptures all therapists seem to own
Take a nap on an inner-tube on a lazy river
Get to see the leaves change color for the first time
Play basketball with Papyrus
Fall asleep in a basket of freshly dried clothes
Go to a public greenhouse to look at all the different flowers on the surface
Perform stand-up for humans who all love his terrible puns
Please tag the post with #LetSansRest, #Sans, and #undertale as well as any other applicable tags for characters, relationships, etc. This day is primarily for classic Sans but it's not like I can stop you from drawing Fell Sans not being subjected to his own, personal, goth-themed Torment Nexus.
This is meant to be a day for everyone who wants Sans Undertale to go to therapy and feel better. People who want to put him in a hamster cage with plenty of things to prank for enrichment. People who want to win him one of those massive stuffed animals at the county fair.
If you want to participate please be mindful of some things:
I will be monitoring the tag to reblog things! I have ptsd and would appreciate if ships involving Papyrus or Frisk (and similar) with Sans are avoided. This is simply for my mental health and I greatly appreciate it. <3
Do Not post angst to the #LetSansRest tag. It is meant to be an angst free tag for him.
Don't worry if you can't participate on the exact day! Just like with #LetPapyrusSayFuck Day you can use the tag and post to it any day! :>
Hope you're able to participate and have fun! <3
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Crush
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Content; gender neutral, no pronouns, swearing, mentions of relationship insecurity, some suggestive themes, mentions of Polyam (fizz/Ozzie/reader)
Feat; Fizzarolli, Loona, Blitz, Stolas
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You got them acting up. When they're down bad,
Fizzarolli will constantly be touchy. Somehow, someway, he just needs to be in contact with you. Loves showing off- which means he'll do tricks, sing, and show off his flexibility (fuckin' slut). He'll brag about how cool you are, how fantastic, how amazing- to literally everyone. If he's in his relationship with Ozzie, the two of them talk about how they would integrate you into the relationship. Since Fizz actually knows how to communicate (unlike someone we know), he's very good with knowing about boundaries, needs, and expectations. Will constantly cozy up to you and will flirt shamelessly. He's just such a cutie
Loona can't hide it. She's so obviously enamored by you. Her intimidating facade shatters, leaving her an awkward, smiley, goofy love struck pup. Her tail will wag, she stands up a bit straighter, avoids eye contact, but listens so intently. Tries to crack jokes, but just ends up telling on herself. For reference, please see: "That's hot-" "Ha, I wish I had friends-". Can and will fight people for your attention. If you're in a conversation with Moxxie, oh wow, suddenly she has a reason to drop kick him into the next ring of hell. Blitz obviously knows if Loona has a crush on someone, so expect some glares, "playful" death threats, and lots of questions/comments about how you'd treat her, etc. He warms up.. Eventually. Either way, Loona doesn't care. All she wants is to be with you.
Blitz avoids it. He thinks love is stupid, that no one could ever possibly love him, and that he doesn't deserve a relationship. Depending on how close you are, he'll either: isolate, pretend he doesn't feel anything and attempt to act normal, or flirt. Tbh, I think if he's very close to someone, he'll isolate, because he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions. No matter how he handles it, everyone notices this change in his behavior, especially Loona. Like her dad, she'll be very protective and pretty harsh. Once she's sure you have good intentions, she'll be more accepting. Still pokes fun at you though. It'll take a lot of patience, determination, and a lot of forcing Blitz to communicate- but eventually, hopefully, he'll allow himself to be happy with you.
Stolas, somehow, becomes even more of a slut. We've seen how he acts with Blitz. Of course he's going to flirt and make passes. (However, if you're on the ace spectrum or are uncomfortable with it, he'll absolutely respect your boundaries). He's also one to spoil those he's interested in, whether it be thoughtful gifts, bouquets, you name it. He wants so badly to have and express his love and passion. Initially, there will likely be communication issues. It's entirely possible that he has relationship insecurity and will be a bit clingy, but will always try to give you the space you need. He just wants love. He just wants you.
#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader#fizzaroli x reader#fizzaroli helluva boss#loona x reader#loona helluva boss#blitz x reader#blitz helluva boss#stolas x reader#stolas helluva boss#romantic attraction#helluva boss headcanon#writings.onthe.wall
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love me like a bruise.
summary: the only way to know what mhin tastes like is through leander.
notes: 1.5k words, author's notes, mildly suggestive content (mhin and reader implied to be sleeping together), jealousy, alcohol consumption (reader might be drunk and making very bad decisions), very complicated relationships (mhin and leander were once a thing, leander taunts you about mhin, mhin has emotional hangups etc)
“They’ve never even kissed you, have they?”
It’s a low, whispered comment from Leander, one you can barely hear over the sound of raucous laughter and jeering voices crowding the Wet Wick. But your hands tighten around your mug, and you hunch over your murky drink, your reflection peering back at you from the depths.
Leander, elbows pressed lightly on the wooden counter, dips his head in sympathy. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“It’s none of your business,” you say thinly, but your denial is an answer of itself, and his smile– his damned slippery smile, as repugnant as a slimy fish pulled from the river– only grows.
“I didn’t even say their name,” he says mildly.
“Shut up.”
Leander clicks his tongue, raising a hand to press on your shoulder. It’s a gentle, insistent pressure, but it roots you to your seat. “I’m just worried about you. I told you, right? That they’re not someone you can trust.”
“I don’t need you to warn me. I can take care of myself,” you say.
“I know, I know. I just want to look out after you.”
“I don’t need your concern.”
Leander tilts his head, shadows falling across his face. “If you don’t want me to be concerned, then you shouldn’t come into my bar, looking miserable. Then I wouldn’t worry so much.”
In response, you jerk his hand off your shoulder. Leander lets it fall, watching as you pick up your drink and swallow, one long bitter gulp, before slamming it back down on the table.
“It’s empty. Refill, please, bartender,” you say pointedly.
“As you wish,” he says, picking it up and disappearing down the corner.
You watch the crush of bodies around you, lovers intoxicated on Leander’s shitty drinks curled around each other like cats, friends throwing down cards and chips on damp tables, all cast in a dim green sheen from the hanging lights.
You’re the only one here alone. Maybe if Ais or Vere or even Kuras were around tonight, you wouldn’t need to drink to feel like you also had someone you belonged to.
There is one person that you particularly want to be by your side, who would chase away all your bitter feelings, but you don’t know if they feel the same. Because, gods, Leander is right. They’re the one person you really want to be by your side, and the one person farthest from reach.
Mhin. Your partner, in more ways than one. Your business partner, of course. The two of you get along particularly well in that regard, scouring the streets of Eridia for information. But it’s also easy to slip into their bed every night, to brush their silver hair across the pillow, to cup their reddening face. But they’re always gone in the morning. They would let you hold them, but never any further than that.
The first time you tried to kiss them, they cupped their hand around your mouth, eyes like flint. “Don’t.” And so you had to make do with biting their neck, teeth sinking sharper than a kiss, running a thumb over the marks which would fade in time.
You never tried to kiss them again, even though their plump lips and the kissable mole next to the corner of their mouth was irresistible.
It’s funny, in all honesty. How they spurned you from holding their hand on the streets, flinching away like an alley cat, but they never refused your touch at night. It was a line you weren’t allowed to cross, the message as clear as day: you could desire them, but you couldn’t love them.
And so you’re stuck, in a relationship of push and pull. How far are you allowed to go? What did it mean, to Mhin, for the two of you to be together?
As if summoned by your thoughts, someone slinks through the half open-door like a dream. It’s Mhin. They haven’t seen you yet, so you take a few moments to observe them, the way they dodge effortlessly between stumbling bodies, hood drawn tight over their face.
Cute. They’re cute, and you will never meet a person as beautiful as them again.
A drink clunks down in front of you, heavy with foam. Leander puts his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to face him. He’s still smiling, but there’s an edge to it now. He leans closer, an intimate gesture.
“They’re cute, I know,” he whispers, his breath fogging your ear. “A good kisser, too. I didn’t expect it, the first time we were together.”
Before you know what you’re doing, your hands are grasping his lapels, and you’re yanking him closer to you. What sort of expression are you making? Your eyes are wavering, hazy, and your teeth are bared in a snarl. The alcohol is pounding through your head. “Shut up, Leander.”
You don’t care. You don’t care if Mhin has been with other people. So have you. It’s none of your business. That’s not what your relationship is. Mhin has drawn a firm line. You know where you stand in their life.
“Do you want to know?” Leander whispers. “What they taste like?” His eyes, dark and heavy, hover over your lips.
You kiss him. But it’s not a kiss, because you are all lips and teeth, and Leander is pliant underneath you as you rip his mouth apart, like a waiting prey animal. There’s the taste of cheap ale, and not much else as you devour him. You tug his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard enough to break skin. He gasps as you pull back, blood beading along his lip.
“Wow,” he says wonderingly, drawing one thumb to wipe along his lip, licking at his own blood. “You’re wilder than I expected.”
You’re panting as you wipe your hand across your mouth. Is this anything like what happened when Mhin and Leander kissed? Did they kiss him like this? Or did he kiss them? “Shut up. I’m never doing this again.”
Leander jerks a thumb behind you, and you whirl to see Mhin, with a hardened expression, watching the two of you. They meet your eyes, and duck their head, turning towards the exit. You stumble out of your seat.
“I’ll see you soon,” Leander calls after you, but you ignore him as you slam past complaining patrons and out the door, the cool night air whipping you in the face after the stale warmth of the Wet Wick.
Where is Mhin? What are they thinking? Did they see? How much did they see?
There’s a pale hand wrapping around your wrist, and the alcohol makes your steps clumsy and head fuzzy as someone drags you to a nearby alley, slamming you against the rough brick wall. Mhin. It’s Mhin, and their eyes are as sharp as a blade against your neck.
“What were you thinking?” they hiss.
“What?” you say.
“Kissing him! Kissing Leander!” they say again. They still have a hold on your wrist, and their grip is bruising.
“Why not?” you say. “What does it matter who I kiss? It’s not like we have that sort of relationship, right?”
They reel back as if you’ve slapped them, dropping your hand. You almost miss their touch. You wonder if it’ll leave a mark in the morning, just like a hickey. “Leander is… not someone you can trust,” they say.
“Funny. He said that about you, too. Mhin… why do you care so much?” Now you’re stepping towards them, and they move backwards slowly with each step you take, right until they’re the one backed against the wall. You lean in so close you can see the sweat beading along their cheek, the faint scent of iron and flesh. “Who were you jealous of?”
“What?”
“Who were you more jealous of?” you whisper into their ear, sensing how Mhin tenses beneath you, their heart racing like a trapped animal. “Me, or Leander? I mean, you won’t kiss me, but you’ll kiss him. How am I supposed to understand that?”
They shove you, hard, and you almost trip over your own feet before they grab you hastily, pulling you upright.
“You’re drunk,” they spit out. But there’s something raw in their eyes, fragile. “Go home. You don’t even know what you’re saying right now.”
They’re holding onto your elbow, gently guiding you back to the entrance of the Wet Wick. Why are they holding you like this? It’s so unfair. They should just leave you drunk in the alleyway, not take care of you like they worry over what happens to you. Neither of you speak, and they pull open the door for you.
“Leander will at least help you to your bed,” they mutter to themself, as if you aren’t right there. “So it should be fine as long as he can see you… And you’ll be around people…”
“Mhin,” you whisper, and they glance at you, and down at your lips as your mouth moves. “Will you kiss me?”
They close their eyes, lips pressed tight, as if they’re making a wish. You can’t read their expression anymore as they push you through the door. “Just go home.”
The door shuts behind you like a tomb, and you’re enveloped in the noisy, warm, damp atmosphere of the bar again. You press your thumb against your bottom lip, chasing the lingering taste of your drunken kiss. Maybe if you close your eyes, you can find Mhin’s taste there.
#liya writes#touchstarved#mhin#touchstarved game#touchstarved x reader#mhin x reader#touchstarved mhin#sorry for this one guys... my mental illness really jumped out#gay friend groups CANNOT be normal fr
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To a Tea 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.
Character: Raymond Smith
The title is a pun, don't @ me.
Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.
“He’s here,” Jenna’s warning brings you attention away from siphoning what’s left off the peppermint leaves into the fresh tin.
You glance over without any other directive. He always waits in that same spot. Even if the table’s empty, he doesn’t sit right away. You give you co-worker a look and smile as you put the lid on the tin and slide it out of the way.
You wash your hands thoroughly before you grab the cylinder of disinfecting wipes and sweep around the end of the counter. You step out onto the tea room floor as his eyes find you, expecting you. You’ve adjusted to his ritual, almost compelled to it.
“Hello, Raymond,” you great as you approach the empty table for two where he sits with his back to the wall and his eyes towards the door.
“Miss,” he greets in his way.
He’s a bit uptight. Others might say worse but once you learn his quirks, he’s very human. Even if everything else about him is mysterious.
Sometimes you build stories about him in his head. His glasses, his neatly styled hair, and his combed beard suggest a man with an eye for his appearance. His suits might be better fit to library or a professor’s podium. Not sleek enough for a board room. Then you think he might be a writer of sorts but you’ve never seen him with a laptop or pen and most of the local authors don’t show up without one or the other.
You take out a wipe and take your time in getting every inch of the table. You back up as he removes his jacket and you back out of his way. He sidles around the and sits, shoulders set as he grips the table and straightens it.
Whoever he is, he’s very precise.
“Usual?” You ask with a smile.
He looks at you and reaches to pinch the arm of his glasses. The first time he came in, you remember you could’ve melted at his gaze. So stony and unyielding, you wondered why he was even there. Now, there is an ease to it. He prefers the familiar and you have become that.
“Yes, usual,” he agrees.
You nod and swiftly turn on your heel. You go back behind the counter as Jenna snoops from behind the cookie display. You shake your head at her as you wash your hands a second time. He will certainly note that as well.
You go to steep his cup of English Breakfast as the other woman nears and watches the steaming water at your side.
“Don’t know how you do it. He should just have tea at home.”
“Can’t complain for business,” you shrug.
“Why bother? All that fuss for a cuppa.”
“Maybe he likes the ambience?” You suggest.
“He said the lights give him headaches.”
“Oh?”
“Well, he pays his bill. That’s all I ask for,” you add a teaspoon of milk, measuring it out exactly and you move the tab of the bag to hang to the left of the handle.
“Mm, and he sures asks a lot of you, don’t he?” She crosses her arms.
“Jenna,” you look towards the till where a customer waits.
“Ugh, you’re such a bore,” she chides.
You go back into the tea room and cross to Raymond’s table. You set the cup and saucer before him.
“Enjoy,” you insist.
“Cheers,” he hooks his finger into the handle and turns the cup to an exact angle.
You lean back on your heel and he raises his palm, “do you... have any suggestions?”
“For?” You wonder.
“I thought to try something with my tea today. What do you recommend?”
“Well, were we thinking something savoury or sweet?” You reply breezily, “our cheese scones are delicious, and there is the chives and onion bake. I sneak one every Friday. Erm, there are the white chocolate shortbread on special and I think we’ve sold out of the cherry tarts. Oh, if you’d like a combination, there is the cranberry cheddar scone. I don’t mind it but I hate the crumbles.”
He considers you thoughtfully and crosses his arms. He mills the decision with his lips clamped. His blues eyes narrow behind his lenses.
“Do you have plain shortbread?”
“Of course,” you chime, “two for a pound.”
“Two will do,” he agrees.
You hold your smile and once more set off on your mission. He might be stringent, a bit repressed, but you’ve dealt with worse customers. More demanding, sometimes outrightt rude.
You dip behind the counter and grab a plate. You use the tongs to take two of the shortbread biscuit and place them on a clean plate. You take a napkin with you and once more emerge from behind the displays.
You approach Raymond as he sips his tea. You put the plate and serviette before him. He thanks you and adjusts his tie, letting his hand drift down his vest.
“Is that it, sir? Tea alright?”
“That’s it,” he affirms.
“Great, you know where I’ll be,” you chirp and spin.
You stop before you can bring your foot down as he calls your name. He’s only ever said it once. The first time you met. It’s always ‘miss’.
You turn to face him, “yes?”
“Your apron strings are uneven...” he says. “Just figured... I’d warn you.”
You nearly laugh. What an odd thing to worry about. You reach back behind your waist and feels the lengths. Sure enough, you’ve tied them entirely off kilter. You suppose you don’t pay too much attention to that.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
He nods and examines one of the cookies. Then his eyes flick up and keep you from another retreat, “I could fix it.”
“Oh, er, that’s fine,” you wave him off, “not a big deal.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” He wonders.
“Not really,” you shrug, “does it bother you?”
His brows raise slightly and he taps the cookie, shaking off the crumbs as much as he can. He leans forward and nibbles over the plate, making certain not to litter over the edge. He puts the biscuit down and wipes his fingers on the napkin.
“It does,” he says.
You won’t laugh at him. It would truly be at his expense, it’s just a very unexpected offer. You put your arms straight, “if you want.”
You near and turn your back to him. You sense him leaning forward as you stand stalk straight and watch the tea room. The smell of cinnamon and cloves fills the warm space, the shades giving an orangish hue to the din. There are low tables near the center with pillow seats, and the high tables along the walls. You know all the creaks and cracks better than your own home.
You feel him tug the knot loose and his fingers work agilely to tie a new knot. He lets it hang but just as quickly looses it again. You try not to move as he does it several times before he relents.
“There, ears and tails match,” he declares.
You step away and turn to send him a smile, “thanks.”
He doesn’t say anything, only raises his cup and doffs it in a kind gesture before he sips. You twist away again. You should help Jenna before the rush begins. That’s the only thing about Raymond, he does take up a lot of time.
#raymond smith#dark raymond smith#dark!raymond smith#raymond smith x reader#the gentlemen#drabble#sweet and spicy#au#series#to a tea
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