#I have twenty five runs and I have never seen the dog drop

[impossible-rat-babies]

tanking shinryu ex w just my summoner friend aka how many times can I tell ***** I’m gonna kick his ass as I die

#i just want the dog I just want the fuckin dog #I have twenty five runs and I have never seen the dog drop #i have had better odds w Titania ex and the gwib compared to this fucker #my friend got to 60 something totems before getting the dog #I will take shinryu over bird lady I don’t like bird lady #her phase changes mess up my dnc rotation so bad #it’s at the point where you can skip a lot and dnc’s opener is long #it’s bc the steps take time and other folks have shorter get damage out wuic #so I finish my step and she’s like haha time for Other Things #i am grumpy I say as I can go as a different job #owen plays ffxiv #owen ffxiv spoilers

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @yannvi @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @identity2212 @pricescontroversiallyyoungerwife @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon @xxkay15xx @cosmic-nuisance4 @danielle143

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

[harehearts]

[sits criss cross applesauce in front of you] Tell us more about Oscar

Alright, this'll be a bit long!

Basics: Oscar Kit Landry - recently turned thirty - 6'2 - butch lesbian - custodian who works as a handyman on the weekends (because if she's not constantly doing Something what's the point)

Oscar grew up in Southport, NC and was raised by her uncle after her mom split town after Oscar was born — as a result, the both of them were real close so a lot of things she enjoys doing now are just things he showed her when she was younger (fishing and keeping spiders as pets, primarily).

She dropped out of high school at seventeen to take care of her uncle after he fell sick with something he never told her the name of.

She left Southport when she was twenty-four because a couple years prior her uncle passed away and her manner of coping was a mixture of overworking herself or getting into fights with whoever she could piss off. In such a small place with folks who all knew of and knew each other in some capacity, getting the reputation of being a shit stirrer wasn't exactly great. She traveled around a lot down south before eventually settling down in Boston, MA at twenty-five.

While she was traveling around, she picked up two kittens from some gas station in Virginia; she wound up calling the short-haired calico "Boy" and the short-haired white one "Lookit you" because she's emotionally stifled enough to think officially naming a pet would get her too attached to it. Laughably, Boy and Lookit you rode around with her none unlike very elated dogs, even if they slept most of the time.

Her truck is actually her uncle's old red pickup. Every so often it acts like it's going to croak but she's very persistent on driving it until it literally cannot be patched up enough to.

Oscar has a relatively thick southern drawl that makes her impossible to understand with how fast she talks so she's having to learn how to speak slower.

She's generally seen as a kind person, something of a gentle giant (if you will), really loyal to the handful of people she's close to but she fails to be the most truthful individual and she has a major issue with her impulse issues that blend very badly with her explosive temperament. She loves to run her mouth, what else can I say.

Oscar has a trio of jumping spiders that are all called "little one" because, again, we can't get too attached to our pets.

Oscar's always tried to emulate her uncle because she thinks he was great but quiet self worth issues continually make her think she's being a decent person the worst anyone's ever done it <3.

Despite this, however, she has a "friend" - Rosalie - who she's spent the last five years helping raise the daughter of. Much to her chagrin, she hasn't managed to make the daughter all that interested in fishing.

In conclusion, she's my beloved — take an excerpt!!

#cocaine jesus #< the title of the story she's in #anyway rosalie is a WHOLE other thing. my dear. my friend.

[some-lonely-loser]

The End Of The World

 The End Of The World

Rocky Balboa x GN Reader

Summary: During a zombie apocalypse, you meet the famous boxer, Rocky Balboa. Will you two survive during the apocalypse?

Just down the hill was the first store, a liquor store, its windows boarded with no light to be seen through it. The town had to have been occupied by no more than a hundred people at one point. The sun had just begun to rise to the left, and in the peach-toned light, the houses almost seemed cheery. As I stared intently at the liquor store, the sun's light beamed at the store's front door. Shattered and left hanging slightly open

There was no movement in any of the streets or houses, and the morning hours should keep any occupants asleep for at least another hour. I adjusted the large backpack to lay more comfortably across my back; the oversized thing had been my steady companion for the last five years, almost the only thing that had accompanied me through The disease. It had been named The disease after the entirety of the world fell in its wake, only taking a mere month for entire cities to be overrun. It had been like any other morning. The 5 am news had been droning the week's weather as I sipped from coffee that was too hot.

Suddenly, the forecast was interrupted by an image that read “Breaking News”. The audience was then treated to seeing a very shaky image showing a reporter slowly backing away from the scene before them. People attacked others in the street, biting and tearing with their hands, fingers, and teeth. Others were lying on the cement moaning, blood pooling around them.

It was said two weeks later that The disease had been transferred from the bat to the dog, and that dog had bitten its owner, thus beginning the end. And so the world came to be destroyed by what the people before had laughed at, zombies.

It had been five years since then, and I hardly remembered those easy, lucky times. I slowly began descending the slight incline towards the liquor store, hoping to salvage a few things before the sun was completely up. The backpack thumped comfortingly along my back which had already begun to sweat with nerves; going into towns no matter how small was always a risk.

The air was quiet except for the slight crunch of grass beneath my boots and the occasional rustle of leaves. I had to decide whether the liquor store would be my only stop or if I would risk finding other supplies further into town. A rattle to the right caught my attention, and I shifted onto the floor, dropping low. I felt the presence of someone behind me within seconds, and when I looked over my shoulder, there he stood. He wore a green hoodie with faded blue jeans and had short black hair, which barely flowed out his hoodie.

I'd been startled enough that it took me a moment to say something and just as I was, he beat me to it: "Y/N?" He said full of shock. I furrowed my eyebrows in shock... I'd never met this man. How did he know my name? Had we ever spoken face to face before? His eyes locked with mine, his somewhat tanned skin clean and smooth.

"I've come to help you," he answered simply, calmly. With his stare remaining strong and intense, he stepped closer to me. When I didn't move, he took a step forward, putting his hands up by his head in defense. "I ain't got nothin' on me, alright? I'm just tryna help, You know?"

For some reason, I found myself liking him despite knowing little about him. "Okay, yea." I whispered quietly. My heart was pounding in my chest as he kept moving towards me. I was ready to run if need be, but instead, he reached his hand out toward me. "You should probably get up, we have to leave fast. Almost the whole town is infected." I took his hand suspiciously and he pulled me up towards him. Crashing into his hard chest, I hear him say "Oops" I can hear his smirk in his voice so I back myself away and continue walking until I reach his truck. Once inside, he starts driving quickly down the road.

We drove for nearly twenty minutes before he spoke again, and even though I wasn't paying much attention to where we were going, I could tell we were getting close to the end of town. "So Y/N. Where d'ya wanna go?" He asked. "How do you know my name?" I asked confused. I haven't even known this man for an hour, let alone even know his name. Yet he knows mine.? Ya gotta name tag on ya. I'm Rocky. Rocky Balboa" He said. I look down at my shirt and realize he's right "That famous boxer?" I asked surprised. "Yea, that's me. Where ya headed?" "Maybe Harrisburg?" "Oh ok. That's where I'm headed too."

I explained my situation briefly before asking why he had been on his way there anyway. Why didn't he just drive straight to his destination? "No offense, but the city is dangerous. More so than you might realize. So we're gonna travel together in the hopes of staying alive, ya know?" I nod with surprise before saying "Oh. Well, that's smart of you, I mean you're kind of odd. But yeah I agree. Maybe if we stick together and watch each other's backs, we'll make it through all of this..." I said before he stopped at a red light. Before I knew it, he turned to me and asked "Where are you staying?" I frowned, remembering my hostel from last night.

"Actually, I’m not sure." He looks at me for a moment before nodding "Well we can find a place together. Maybe a motel?" "Yea," He continued driving, and soon after, I dozed off.

                                         Timeskip

We finally made it to our destination and went inside. I fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, I woke up feeling warm. It was like waking up from a good nap, which I suppose it was. Soon, I heard footsteps coming toward my room, followed by the door opening. Before I could look up, he starts talking. "Come on downstairs, breakfast is ready." I stumble out of bed and get myself ready before going down to the kitchen. I sat at a table that had a small stove across from it and placed myself against the wall near a window, while two cups of coffee were poured. "This is how I make coffee," He stated proudly. As I take a sip, I can see him smiling at me. "It's not bad. It's kind of strong, but maybe just add a dash of cream next time."

When we finish eating, we go and sit on the couch. A hard and loud bang brings me out of my thoughts as Rocky stands up to get his gun. He motions for me to stay quiet as he walks towards the door.

                                         Cliffhanger :)

Word count: 1,187

Authors note: Hii! I don’t know why this took me so long to write but it’s done now. I’m praying that this is better than my first one so let me know what you think!

By the way this was barely prof read so if you see a typo or something along those lines ignore it. :)

[gcldfanged]

Things you said I wouldn't understand.

It must've been the first time Tseng had seen him just... go empty. Completely numb, almost like a fugue state taking over, narrowing all of his sensory input to whatever was happening in front of him, in that second. Eyes little more than two matte pools of nara ink, not truly focused on one specific thing, but sliding around- floor to ceiling, his blood misted forearm still gripping his service pistol. The mangled, caved in pile of meat, teeth, and tongue that the agent had essentially bludgeoned with the butt of his handgun.

Their witness was still alive... maybe. Spasms making the body jerk like a marionette on twisted strings. Perhaps the last few signals of neurons firing off as the body began to shut down after going into shock.

Jae-hyo heard Tseng's voice but it felt so distant, the rapid and sharp snaps of his thumb and forefinger in front of his nose, a hard jostle to his right shoulder.

"Whip, look at me!"

Yoon nearly jumps out of his skin, turning with strangely open and dismayed expression like a small child about to be scolded by their guardian.

"What?"

The question tumbles out like he'd only just misheard his superior in the moment- What was that, Boss? Like they were discussing what Tseng was going to order for takeout that night.

"What the hell happened?"

What could he even say? He almost laughed at the options.

Sorry, Boss, I guess I hit him a little too hard-

Hey, he's the one who headbutted my gun. Twenty-five times.

Jae's expression darkens as he pushes Tseng against the wall, the blood-speckled muzzle of his gun disturbingly close to his superior's chin due to the position of his hands.

"You said you trusted me, right-" he states more than asks, searching his superior's expression for confirmation of this fact. There's a dark intensity making his eyes look crazed, yet there's a kind of vulnerability to them.

"So, trust me now."

Don't ask questions. Please.

"What about the girl?"

Jae's pauses, having forgotten entirely about the more corpse than person lying on the sofa. Her eyes were closed, but even through the makeup caked on her face, they both knew she was young. Too young.

"We're leaving."

The incredulous shock on his superior's face is like a needle twisted inside of his heart.

"She's an addict, Tseng! Or did you think someone can manage to nap through what we did?" Jae-hyo demands, gesturing at the bodies they'd left all over the penthouse suite.

"You can't do anything for her. So drop it."

He can feel the elder man's presence dogging his footsteps as they leave, both of them walking at a slower pace to better blend in with the other suits milling around in the foyer.

Not now, not now-

The double doors swing open and the heels of Yoon's shoes echo into the brisk night air, the rapid 'tac-tac-tac' of Tseng's not far behind.

"So, that's it?"

Rolling his eyes, Jae pivots on his heel and faces his partner in crime.

"Yeah. That's it. Drag her to a hospital if you really wanna, but she's gonna be back out on the street once she leaves. This is reality, okay? Why do you think they never try to run away or report shit to Public Security? I told you, just... drop it. You wouldn't be able to understand even if I told you."

"Understand what? Then talk to me, help me understand-"

He's expecting a firm hand to yank him back, but what he gets is too gentle, the weight of a hand against his shoulder trying to keep him from walking away. Somehow that's even worse, a sudden spike of white-hot anger makes his eyes fly open and slap Tseng's arm away as though scalded by a flat iron.

"The next time you touch me, you're losing that hand," he warns, backing away slowly, but with his head raised and his chest out- As though challenging the other man to approach him. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tseng until he's certain he can lose him in the back alleys, exhaling a rough breath.

How could he understand what he hasn't lived through- It was impossible, like trying to teach a dog how to use silverware. There was no point. The concerned expression softening the other Turk's features made him want to throw up, rip his skin off and roll around in a vat of salt, douse himself in gasoline and light a match.

The resentment, the anger, the disdain- That he could take, just not pity. He's rather eat his own hand than let some asshole get all watery-eyed and weepy over something that happened every damn day and yet the world continued to spin, money continued to change hands, and the privileged few sated their greasy hungers on those who never had the illusion of choice.

#ofdeference #◈ five fingers two black hooves [ic] #gore tw #drug mention tw #Jae vc: don't you dare pity me i'll kill you #◈ WRITING

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

A Lamb Among Wolves

Chapter One

Master List

A/N: As I'm sitting in the airport waiting to board my plane, and I'm bored out of my gourd, let's post something new!

I do not tag. For notifications on the story, please follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library​ or subscribe to it on AO3. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

Pairing: OMC Bedlam Wise/ OFC Pixie Peradino

They called him Bedlam.

A Lycantant born of the Splicer Wise, rising from the same genes as the fabled Caine Wise, consort to Queen Jupiter, the recurrence of Queen Seraphi. But unlike Caine, he did not have albinism, nor was he a runt. His Splice had not gone wrong.

Not completely.

At six foot nine inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle, he was a credit to his Splicer's genius. He'd excelled his entire life, trained and fought, and obeyed.

But just like Caine, Bedlam had a flaw. He couldn't - maybe even wouldn't - connect with a pack. He was as Alpha as a wolf could be, but none of the other Lycantants appealed to him.

And they certainly tried.

Every in-season bitch found a reason to be in his presence, every beta to drop off a meal. He'd met only a few omegas, but even they gravitated toward him.

Omegas were seen as weaknesses and rarely made it out of a Splicer's den, but a few were taken, trained as pets and kept as lap dogs. Even the meekest Lycantant was strong, fast, and deadly enough to take out an intruder should an Entitled, or just one of the rich idiots, want a watchdog.

But Bedlam was not weak. He was terribly strong and fast. His senses never failed him. He lived and worked as an elite soldier, taking on the deadliest solo missions, running alone, fighting alone, with few friends and no pack.

They called him a Rogue - a rare commodity, and in recent years he'd killed and maimed and slaughtered more people than he could count at the behest of the Legion or Aegis.

There was so much evil in the Verse. Bedlam figured it was only fitting they send the devil after the demons.

***

Pixie Peradino was, to her mind, average. Maybe even below it. She was barely five foot five, thirty-two years old, and had lost her waistline in college with the freshman fifteen - more like twenty-five - and never gotten it back. Her current hair colour, a lovely sapphire, and amber eyes were the only things she felt distinguished her from any other below-average human.

Thus, she couldn't understand how it came to be that she was standing before a woman in a sleek uniform, a woman with metal bits attached to her head and hands, who claimed to be some captain of some orbiting spaceship for some group called the Aegis.

"I'm sorry… you think I'm who?" she asked for the second time.

"Your Grace is the genetic recurrence of Duchess Trillian of the House of Brantox. While not quite on the same level as an Abraxas, your holdings are anything but modest. You must come with us to Orous to claim your title."

Pixie blinked before bursting into laughter. "This is a joke, right?"

The woman, Captain Jol- something, became quite pinched around her mouth. "It is not. Your Grace must come with us. It is a matter of some urgency."

Pixie took a step back. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She'd been on her way to work, just walking out the front door of her tiny little house on the outskirts of Carmel.

Carmel-by-the-Sea was a sea-swept town in California that Pixie adored with all her heart. She felt so fortunate to live and work there, even when the tourists made her want to scream, but these tourists were trying her patience.

"Look, Captain, I don't know what kind of con you're pulling, but I'm not buying it! Now, get the hell off my lawn so I can get to work!"

The two men with her stepped into Pixie's path when she pushed past their Captain.

"No, let her go," the Captain murmured. "Your Grace. Here." She held out her hand, revealing a small metal disc.

"What's that?" Pixie asked suspiciously.

"A communications device. If you should encounter trouble of an… unusual nature, place it behind your left ear and press firmly. It will contact me, and I will send for an extraction."

Pixie stared at the small circle.

"Please, ma'am. It's my job to keep you safe, but I won't force you to come with us until you're ready."

There was genuine worry in her eyes that had Pixie relenting enough to take the disc. She figured it was a bug, maybe even a tracker of some kind, but for what, she couldn't say.

Pixie was just a gallery worker. She knew art and artists and not even very famous ones. These were all local folks, potters and painters, and weavers. While they had a good business, it wasn't anything to write home about.

The only other explanation would be that this was some bullshit plot by her ex, but she didn't think Nathan had it in him. Not to this extent.

She stuffed the device in her pocket and got in her car. She could always throw it away later.

She watched in the rearview as the Captain's shoulders sagged in defeat as she drove off.

***

"Captain. Is this course of action… wise?"

Jol vanDeman sighed. "We cannot force her to come with us." But her Lieutenant was correct. They really shouldn't leave her unguarded. Not with Gilgamee hunting her.

"Get me the Rogue," she murmured, watching the vehicle disappear.

"Captain?"

She glanced sharply at her second in command. "You heard me, Lieutenant! Get me Bedlam Wise!"

"Ma'am!" He straightened, saluted and scampered off to do what she commanded.

"I understand the need for protection, Captain, but… the Rogue?" Corporal Vance asked.

Jol looked to the sky, scanning for any anomalies. "If Gilgamee is coming for her, the Rogue is her best chance for survival."

"But… he's an animal!"

She shot the Corporal a glare. "As is any Splice, that doesn't mean he is incapable of protection. He's a wolf, pack or no pack. He can and will protect her ladyship with his life if that is what I ask of him."

"Yes, ma'am!" the Corporal barked, straightening into attention, well aware of her displeasure.

While rough around the edges, Bedlam was someone she would not hesitate to go into battle with. He'd been working with the Aegis for decades, and lone wolf or not, she trusted him more than she trusted anyone. She liked to think they were friends, though she wasn't certain Bedlam would say the same.

"He's on his way, Captain," Lieutenant Tarrant informed her, returning at a jog.

"Good," Jol murmured.

Bedlam would keep her safe.

For now, at least.

Next Chapter

#jupiter ascending fanfiction #a lamb among wolves #original characters

[theheadgirl]

31 Days of Fear, hosted by @hp-fearfest

Day 5: Haunt (read on AO3 here)

CW: blood, murder

Oliver had never believed in ghosts or ghost stories. He didn't have a problem with people who did, but it had just never been something that he'd ever bothered with. Even after he'd bought "the old Weasley place," it had been easy enough to write off cold spots as the malfunctioning HVAC system of an old house, or weird creaking sounds as the place settling at night. His neighbors had been all concern - be careful in there, son, word is the place is haunted - but a tragic history didn't mean there were ghosts.

But then there was the room on the second floor that his dog refused to go into, even though it had a south-facing window with an amazing sunny spot. Then he'd seen the face over his shoulder while he was shaving, and nearly slit his own throat. Then there'd been the time he opened the front door coming home and heard a man's voice say, very distinctly, "Mum, is that you?" 

No one in the neighborhood had had specifics about what happened there, just that in the forties (the thirties, the teens) a family had lived there, and there had been a break-in, and one of the sons had died in the house. People had lived there since, but never for long, and it had been empty for five years before Oliver finally bought it. 

He arches his spine against the straight wooden back of the library chair, trying to crack it, before he leans forward again, spinning through the microfiche copies of the newspaper page by page. Property records had shown that an A. Weasley had owned the place from 1932 - 1950, and Oliver guessed that the family had moved shortly after their son died. He spins to the next edition (November 1, 1949) when there it is.

MURDER!

On Halloween night, there had been a rash of break-ins through the town, because most people were out at the community Halloween party. According to the story, the whole Weasley family (Mum, Dad, six boys, one girl) had gone too. Their third eldest - Percy - had stayed home to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. The thieves hit the Weasley place around midnight. Percy had confronted them, and they murdered him. The police report said he'd been stabbed over sixty times. His parents had found him in his bedroom on the second floor, covered in blood. 

Oh. That's why Archie refuses to go into that room. Oliver makes a mental note to keep that door closed, and maybe a couple of extra treats for Archie.

There's a picture with the article, too. Percy Weasley had been young (only twenty-three, just a few years younger than Oliver), thin, with a bit of an aristocratic face and thick horn-rimmed glasses. His face is solemn in the picture, almost sad, like he knows what's going to happen and he's powerless to stop it. 

Before he leaves the safe, bright lights of the library, Oliver Googles "how to talk to ghosts" on his phone. 

That night, he sets up the candles in the room on the second floor (the local big box hadn't had black, which the site had specified, so he hopes that the dark grey 'Alpine Woods'-scented ones are sufficient) while Archie sits in the hallway outside, whining and thumping his tail anxiously.

"It's okay, buddy," Oliver says, not sure if he's trying to console the dog or himself. "We'll be okay."

He lights the candles, double-checks their positions to the diagram on his phone, and takes in a deep breath.

"I mean you no harm," he says to the empty room, feeling like an idiot. "Hidden things, if you are here, reveal yourself to me."

"Is the glowing box asking you to do that?" a man's voice asks, and Oliver drops his phone. Archie starts crying, sounding terrified, and Oliver grabs his phone and runs to his dog, wrapping his arms around him. He takes in a shuddering breath, finally looking up to see what he's revealed.

What the newspaper picture had not shown, Oliver thinks, was that Percy Weasley had been gorgeous. He's tall and lean, wearing neatly tailored slacks, a button down, a sweater, and a tie. The heavy horn-rimmed glasses catch the light of the candles as he looks around, showing that the right lens is shattered. When his hands brush against the light grey fabric of his slacks, they leave bloody streaks behind. 

"Um," Oliver says, not sure what to say now. "Yeah."

Percy tilts his head a little, watching Archie, who's still whining. "I'm sorry your dog doesn't seem to like me much."

"He doesn't like anyone," Oliver lies. He bites his lip. "You're, uh, you're the one haunting me?"

"So it would seem." He smiles a little. It's awkward, and crooked, and Oliver's heart skips a beat. "I apologize. I didn't have much choice in the matter."

Okay. So now Oliver not only has to immediately and forcibly believe in ghosts, it has to extend to extremely hot ghosts. In his house.

Great.

#hpfearfest2022 #31daysoffearfest #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #percy weasley #oliver wood #percy/oliver #cw: blood #cw: murder

[shenanigans-in-rannice]

SECRET OF THE DISAPPEARING HAT (short story)

It is well-known that many people love Halloween. People in Rannice were no exception.

Winstons put up decorations in Green Carnation at the beginning of October, then held a few costume parties in the following weeks. The best party was the one Winstons prepared in cooperation with Christine and Erin Carter. It was held at Ivy Farm. This only made some people more assured that Erin and Christine were witches, but they didn`t care.

The party was a spectacle. There were different Halloween-themed snacks (Bailey made around half of them). Erin and Christine were dressed as pirates. Some adults and older children were running around to ensure everybody felt welcomed. People were chatting, eating, and admiring each others costumes. The farm tour was finished, but some guests were still hanging out with the animals in the barn, supervised by Toni Morgan, one of the farm workers. Bailey and Winona (Fox`s oldest daughter and a professional foster parent) supervised the children to give their parents a break. Sherlock was lying under the table, hoping somebody would drop a few fries or a piece of a cookie. That dog was crazy about food, and this was a holiday for him as well.

Presently, Bailey had Winona`s daughter Emma up on his shoulders while he was trying to juggle the ball. He was usually able to do it, but carrying a five-year-old made it more difficult.

They set up a stage for the band and invited people to show off their skills while the band had a break. Right now, there was a woman making animals out of balloons, and a bunch of kids gathered close to receive them.

Hinton, James (her husband), Fox, and Elizabeth (his wife) were chatting with Olivier. It was a surprise that he was there since he usually avoided public gatherings. He was never really a people person and preferred to hand out with his lizards, chameleon Sprinkles, and bearded dragon Cucumber. Later, Bailey found out he only dropped by to bring some juice. A few moments later, voices rose in the crowd of children under the stage. A few adults hurried close to see what caused the commotion.

Christine got there first. She recognized the little girl who was the cause of the noise as one of the children who regularly attended the childcare program at Ivy Farm. “What`s wrong, Yasmine?” she asked.

The girl sobbed and pointed at her head. “Somebody took my hat!”

“Your witch hat?” Christine asked.

Yasmine nodded. “I cant do magic without it.”

“Did anybody see Yasmine`s hat?” Erin, who joined them, called out.

All of the kids shook their heads.

“Somebody stole it,” Yasmine insisted. “They didn't want me to do my magic, so they stole it!”

Erin looked at Bailey and gestured at him to come closer. “He`s a detective,” she explained. “He can help you find out what happened to your hat.”

Yasmine looked up at him. “You don't look like a detective.”

“Well, I can`t be too obvious. How would I solve mysteries if everybody knew I was a detective?” Bailey pointed to his Halloween-themed sweater and kneeled. “This is my party outfit. Do you remember when you last saw your hat?”

Yasmine looked around. “I had it when I went to get some snacks, and I still had it when I watched the balloon lady.”

“Not true,” another girl dressed as a detective joined the conversation. She was a few years older than Yasmine and was holding a younger boys hand. “You put it down to try on Penny`s crown. Right there, on the bench. Its gone now, though.”

“And what`s your name, Detective?” Bailey asked.

“Finley, and this is my brot- I mean, partner, Janez.”

“Okay,” he said and got up. “So, Finley, you say you saw the hat on that bench over there? Do you remember at what time that was?”

“Four hours ago!” Janez exclaimed.

Finley rolled her eyes. “Shush, J, you cant tell the time yet. It was around twenty minutes ago.”

“Good. Have any of you seen anybody acting suspiciously?” Bailey questioned.

“Mickey tried to take my hat away before,” Yasmine said. “Maybe he stole it.”

Bailey surveyed the crowd of kids. “Which one is Mickey?”

“He`s a ninja,” Janez explained.

Bailey looked at four ninjas waving their plastic weapons around. “Um, which one?”

“With the blue belt,” Yasmine elaborated.

“Well talk with him and ask if he saw your hat, okay?”

The three kids nodded and made their way to the cluster of ninjas.

“Mickey?” Bailey called, and the boy turned around. “Yasmine here is looking for her hat. Have you seen it?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head.

“You tried to take it!” Yasmine exclaimed.

“But I didn`t!”

“Hey, what if you and your ninja friends help us look for the hat?” Bailey suggested. The hat was probably just misplaced, and if he got more people looking for it, they were bound to find it sooner.

Finley tugged on his sleeve. “They aren`t detectives like us,” she whispered.

“I know. But there`s more of them and they can do the boring stuff while we look for the clues,” Bailey whispered back.

The ninjas spread out to question people while the detectives went to look for clues. After some inspection, Finley spotted a piece of the feather that used to be attached to the hat. They walked around the spot where they found a feather, but there were no other clues.

“Maybe Sherlock can find it!” Janez suggested.

They tried, but Sherlock attempted to eat the feather, so they gave up. Yasmine was on the verge of tears. Bailey consoled her with a cookie before they continued the search. Thankfully, ninjas rushed back to them.

“Somebody told us the hat went that way!” Mickey pointed to the barn. “

The hat went there?” Bailey questioned. “By itself?” One of the ninjas shrugged.

“Maybe it was the wind.”

They made their way toward the barn. Bailey and detectives went to the right, ninjas to the left.

Janez spotted another feather, and they hurried to catch it before the wind blew it away. The hat was still not visible. They walked around until Yasmine excitedly waved her arms. “

My hat!” She charged forward to get it, but as soon as she touched it, something hissed from the inside, and she ran back to Bailey. He went to pick up the hat. As he looked inside, he spotted one of the cats living on the Ivy Farm.

“Hi, little buddy,” he whispered, gently picking up the hat. “Little Watson decided to sleep inside,” he told the young detectives.

Janez took off to inform ninjas about this development. Watson seemed content in Baileys arms, and they returned to the rest of the people.

“We found a thief,” Bailey told his friends. “He admitted his guilt and promised to better himself."

Christine and Erin laughed and took a few photos.

Bailey took the cat out of the hat before handing the now-empty hat to Yasmine. She ran to her parents to tell them all about it.

“You have done very well today,” Bailey addressed little detectives and ninjas, and they, satisfied with the praise, returned to playing.

#Bailey #Bailey&Cole #short story #original character #Hallowen #detective fiction

[somethinglikelife]

There are four open files on my laptop

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I need to motivate myself. Thank you Matt for the self doubt you instilled in me when I was six.

But enough of that asshole that I called my grandfather, on to the files!

The first file is a running brain dump. On it is everything from Fanfiction ideas (yeah I write fanfiction, it's been a hobby for the last thirty years. Do I make money off it? No. Will I ever publish one of them for money? No.), novel ideas, podcast ideas, and sketch ideas for TikTok and YT sketches. This running list is updated as I think up ideas, luckily I can have it on my laptop and on my phone for easy general ideas brain dumping. And yeah, that file will NEVER be seen by others, it's written in my own short hand so yeah, it's kept as safe as I feel keeping it.

The second file is the podcast I've been working on for a while. I want the script to actually feel natural before I start recording that crazy adventure (And there might be a book series with that too if only so I can fill in details that I can't do in an auditorial form). This stays on my laptop, though while I'm at work I toy with ideas in my work notebook when I can get some time between clients.

The third is the fanfic I'm currently editing (I have been playing in DC's multiverse a bit, and the fic really needs some work even though it's unfinished). This gets toyed with when I'm stuck on other projects so it may be in it's current state for a while yet.

The last file, is the novel I'm toying with, which I started writing, honestly when I was about 8. Though it's gone through a LOT of revisions. Currently I've changed the main character about twenty times, though now I think I'm actually happy with how it's going. Hell, I started writing it before I knew what Urban fantasy is, and it's a pinch of that, mixed with some sci-fi and well, I'm still debating how I want to publish it. Self publishing has some perks, though also has a lot of pitfalls. Why is it still open on my laptop? Because it's the project that I am still trying to use to find my true voice.

Which brings me back to Matt and the words he said to a six year old Nick. On Christmas if you can believe it. My brother and I were told to go help him and Ma (my Mom's step-mother) bring the Christmas presents from their house (which was three driveways down from ours) to ours. It was a yearly tradition for about ten years, but that year... that's when I realized Mom's side of the family was toxic. My brother had gone ahead with the orange sled filled with the brightly wrapped packages, our dog Wolf was padding along beside him, enjoying the snow. Ma stayed back at their cabin to bake pies for the yearly gathering, so I was walking with my grandfather.

Someone who I always thought should be supportive of their kids and grandkids. Maybe I was a little jealous of what my cousins on my Dad's side got with being so close to his dad for the holidays (Grandpa would bake, Grams would make candy and they had a FARM! I mean really what little kid doesn't want to be on a farm? Other than farmer's kids), instead, I had Matt.

He hated anyone with an education higher than third grade, and hated anyone who read books. Mind you as a kid, I always had my nose in a book. It was the first thing I packed when going on a camping trip (Yeah I'm one of those campers that will take two pairs of jeans and about four shirts and pairs of socks. The rest of my camping bag has a book, and various snacks.) and he thought it was a waste of time. Though when he and Ma babysat us for the weekend all they wanted to do was listen to talk radio (my hate of right wing media may have started then honestly) and ignore us. So, as a baby GenXer, I had to pretty much raise myself, and make sure my 2 year younger Millennial baby brother (mind you I'm introvert while I swear my brother can be dropped in the middle of NYC in rush hour and walk away with twenty friends in five minutes. I'm not talking acquaintances, but life long friends of varied cultures. Yeah, I might envy him a little.)

I'm distracting myself sorry.

So, on this walk, which only took us about three to five minutes to do the round trip, Matt asked the dreaded question.

"What do you plan on doing with your life?"

I was six, and he knew before break we had been asked that by our teacher, and my class's homework over the break was to write a paragraph (A whole hundred words!) on the subject. So I guess he was expecting me to answer something like taking over his business (they ran a ceramics shop in the local tourist trap) and being a loyal housewife. Or some boring shit like that, though really the ceramics would have been fun to learn... ANYWAY

What came out of my mouth was -

"I want to be a writer like Daddy, or a cop."

Matt was silent for a few moments as we walked, I thought that I had said something wrong, but Dad had always told me that I have the potential to do whatever I wanted. He never treated me any different than my little brother (for the most part. Boo got to go on the yearly fishing trips before I did. Even though I begged Dad to let me go.). Though as we neared the driveway, Matt finally spoke up.

"You'll never be good at either. Those are jobs for men"

That's exactly what he told me, I was six years old, it was Christmas of 1985, and I'm standing in the middle of a gravel street, on the packed snow in white sorel boots, a cream colored snow suit with a pink knit scarf and hat, my hands in pink and red mittens stuffed into my pockets, unsure if I wanted to run ahead of him, or sit on the street and cry.

Of course, I let him walk ahead of me, slowing down so I could compose myself. I wasn't going to let his words ruin Christmas for the family. So, yeah I stuffed it down.

So that fourth file... Is all my emotions, my thoughts, my two (thankfully) failed suicide attempts, and all the other horrible memories being used to build the spite fire that fuels that book. It is a passion project, and a Fuck you to Matt, for telling me I was worthless and causing the school to think the childhood depression I fell into, was saying I wasn't mentally ready to go onto the second grade. It's the anger I felt later in life when Matt kicked his own daughter, my Aunt K, out of his house when he was dying, because she was a lesbian, (Which is another story that I might tell later), but the two of us spent the day together while the bastard was lying dying.

Hell I lied through my words when I wrote something to be read at his funeral which ended up being on my fourteenth birthday. I wrote what they wanted to hear, and refused to go to the funeral and the wake. Even though my mother and Ma wanted me there.

Only time I will go to where his ashes are scattered, will be when I have the ashes of that book, published, and in my hand. I will make sure that I can make a pit stop in the book tour being that town, just so I can go back into the woods and scatter the ashes of the book with him, screaming at the top of my lungs "Fuck you asshole, you fueled this, and spite has made me into something!"

So yeah, that file, I want to be the best work I can actually create before I publish it. Something worthy of being a Fuck You to the man that should have encouraged me with kindness instead of encouraging me with spite and anger.

And yes, I realize I should probably go to a therapist for all my childhood trauma, but you know what, I think right now, keeping that anger, at least until the book is done, is actually helping me more than a therapist can.

#Writing #ranting #my life

[chocosvt]

love café

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t believe he was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To a degree, you were correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, you needed access to a computer.

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

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

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

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

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

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

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired. Aching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

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

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

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

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

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

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

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not a big deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah.”

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

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

“The Shower what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Twelve am.

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

However, tonight was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The red velvet cake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

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

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

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

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

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

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

“Later!” He’d called.

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

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

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

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

Joshua bumped your elbow.

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

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

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shush up and try this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

“… What?”

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

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

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

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

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

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

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

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

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

You looked at your alarm clock.

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

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

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

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

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

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

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

[palmofafreezinghand]

vampire’s best friend

The latest unexpected addition to the Cullen family. on ao3 here. 

cw: brief pandemic reference 

2021. 

The past year had been, to put it lightly, fucking horrendous. 

Carlisle had worked in more hospitals in eighteen months than in the last eighteen years, and had seen more deaths in minutes than in decades. He was working twenty-four hours on end, clocking in at two different hospitals, thousands of miles away from his entire family and every person he had ever loved. All except one. 

His wife had followed him across the globe, chasing a virus that she had no obligation to care about but seemed to because he did. Once he had, foolishly, believed his wife a delicate woman. A woman who had seen horrors and tragedies beyond comprehension because of her sensitive constitution, a woman who needed to be protected. He had never been more wrong, this belief made lobotomies seem like a reasonable medical practice. At this point he was quite confident the only reason he was still a semi-productive physician was because of the nights he spent dry sobbing into his wife’s chest, or the notes of affirmation she hid in his briefcase. 

It was one of those days where he was coming home for the first time in weeks, ready to stop moving for the first time in days and just rest. However, as he pulled up to the half-renovated farmhouse he was greeted not by his wife of a century but by an old Irish Setter mutt sleeping on the front porch. 

The dog didn’t stir until Carlisle’s car door slammed close, then it jumped in the air, howling and barking at the stranger. Carlisle approached cautiously. Typically animals would run the other way, terrified of a supernatural beast, this one seemed to not only be ready to fight the beast in front of him but protect a different beast’s home. 

“Hello,” Carlisle told the dog, stepping around him to unlock the front door.  As soon as the door swung open the dog ran in like he lived there. “Oh please don’t tell me you live here,” Carlisle sighed. 

Esme had always been odd, odd was a nice way of putting it. Her farm-girl roots were strong, she had always pitied the animals they had to kill to survive. He should have expected eventually animals would just start arriving, especially if he left her alone for weeks on end. 

He followed the dog into the house, throwing his coat and bag in the mud closet. He stripped off his contaminated shoes and clothes, stowing them in the hamper that now took residence in the front entry. The dog watched him the whole time, sitting at the foot of the stairs. When Carlisle was done the dog turned on its heel and bolted up the stairs, Carlisle for some reason, once again, followed a random dog. 

Carlisle found the dog in his bedroom, sitting in the middle of the room with a stuffed toy in his mouth, tail thumping against the floor. 

“You seem awfully comfortable here,” Carlisle told the dog, pulling out a fresh outfit from his closet. “I don’t know why, you don’t live here.” 

The dog didn’t respond with words, of course not he was a dog, instead he nudged at Carlisle’s knee with his nose. “I’m not throwing that,” Carlisle said, referencing the toy the dog had dropped at his feet, which appeared to be a stuffed figure of Bella Lugosi’s Dracula. 

The dog whined, looking up at him with wide eyes. After a minute of staring Carlisle leaned down and weakly tossed the toy across the room. As the dog bounded across the room Carlisle took the opportunity to escape to the bathroom. 

He did realize locking himself away from a seventy-five pound dog was ridiculous but there he was. As he showered and dressed he tried to push down the worry that the dog’s presence caused. He tried and failed. He spoke to the dog through the door, attempting to humanize the dog instead of hating it. 

“I don’t know what she’s told you but you’re not staying here,” he said as he combed through his hair. “I don’t care how cute she is, a dog is my limit.”

He continued on this path until he heard his wife coming in from the backyard. 

“You’re home!” She cooed, sprinting up the main staircase. “I missed you, yes I did, I did,” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice that he realized was for the dog and not for himself. 

Despite this he stepped out of the bathroom. 

“You’re home early!” Esme exclaimed when she saw him. “Who were you talking to?” 

“The dog.” 

Esme froze, instead of acknowledging the animal she stepped in front of it. “What dog?” 

“The one on our bed.” 

“I don’t see a dog,” Esme lied, wrapping her arms around Carlisle’s waist. 

“The dog that’s drooling on my pillow.” 

“Oh!” She gasped comically, glancing back at the bed as if she only now saw the animal. “That dog? Where’d he come from?” 

“Your Tony was not for your acting abilities, love.” Carlisle teased. 

“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, I had a whole plan. I was going to greet you in a negligee, put on some Dinah Washington, maybe some Judy Garland, get you distracted and then mention the dog thing.” 

“I wouldn’t object if you still wanted to try the negligee part, but I do object to the dog aspect of the plan.”  He smiled, running his index finger down her spine. She leaned into the touch and he took the opportunity to address the problem at hand. “Where on earth did you even find a dog?” 

“At the shelter. I was dropping off my old drop cloths and some groceries, and usually I stay away from the animals but this guy trotted right on up and rested his head in my lap. I think his sense of scent is wonky because he’s not scared of me. But they basically begged me to foster him and I couldn’t say no.” She pulled away from the embrace and took a seat on the edge of the bed, the dog came up to her immediately, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. 

“Does he have a name?” 

“Vincent,” she said, smiling down at Vincent as he rested his head in her lap. “Get it? Because of his ear. Vincent Van Dogh.” 

“A shelter named him Vincent Van Dogh?” 

“No. The shelter called him Champ, but he told me he thinks that’s a stupid name. So it was between Vincent Van Dogh and JC Dog-decker and he picked Vincent.” 

“Esme, we’ve talked about getting attached to animals,” Carlisle sighed, the animonorphizing of Vincent was not a good sign. 

“I’m not attached. He’s my new best friend, that’s all,” she said with complete sincerity, leaning down to hug Vincent. She looked back up at her husband. “I lock him up when I hunt, and I’m hunting more frequently now that he’s here. I’m careful.” 

“That’s not what I’m concerned about,” he sighed. “What are you going to do when he dies?” 

“He’ll never die.” He knew she was joking but it was still concerning. 

“Yes he will. You will not, he will. You, historically, do not handle death well.” 

She paused at that, considering his concern once she knew it came from a place of love. 

“We don’t have to keep him, it might be for the best,” she said quietly, her fingers threading through Vincent’s curls that were endearingly reminiscent of her own. The love in her eyes was crystal clear as she stared down at the sleeping dog curled up in her lap. He knew by the way she looked at the little thing they were keeping him. After the year, hell the life, he put her through it was the least he could do. 

“Am I going to have to dig you out of the ground when he dies?” Carlisle asked with a smile, kneeling down in front of her. 

“You bury yourself one time,” she laughed.  “I’ll be fine,” she smiled, leaning forward to brush the wet hair off his forehead. 

He moved to respond but was cut off by the ping of his cell phone, thinking it was one of the hospitals he worked at he immediately checked it. Instead of seeing a desperate plea to come back to work he was met with a screen full of notifications from the Cullen family group chat. 

Rosalie: “You’re seriously letting her keep that thing? It has to have fleas.” 

Emmett: “It’s not his fault he’s whipped babe.” 

Edward: “You have no room to talk.” 

Rosalie: “Sorry, did Mr. “I had nothing to live for until I met you” say something?” 

Carlisle: “No one is keeping anything, the canine is only here until he can find a permanent home. - Carlisle.” 

Emmett: “Isn’t that what we said about Alice at first?” 

Alice: “Tell Esme I vote purple, you’re welcome.” 

Edward: “I hate you.” 

Emmett: “Hell yeah! Ma knows how to get what she wants, have fun Pop. 😉😏🍌🍣🍇”

Edward: “I don’t even want to know what the sushi means.” 

Emmett: “They’re an aphrodisiac.” 

Rosalie: “We don’t eat.” Edward: “And you’re thinking of oysters.” 

Emmett: “😏🦪🌶🍒” 

Edward: “I’m begging you to stop.” 

Emmett: “That’s not what she said.” 

Carlisle: “I do not understand the little cartoons you sent but I do ask you to refrain from violating my wife with such discussion. Thank you, Carlisle.” 

Edward: “Second.” 

Emmett: “Whip Cracking Sound Effect 04.” 

“Smile,” Carlisle told Esme, flipping his phone camera to the front facing view. As he clicked the button to take a photo Vincent leaned in and licked his face. He cringed at the affection but as he looked back at that photo Esme was beaming, a smile considered the pinnacle of smiles, a smile he called “that” smile, a smile he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Not only that, he himself was smiling, a thing he hadn’t seen in an even longer time. Perhaps the dog wasn’t so bad after all.

#esme cullen #carlisle cullen #carlesme #twilight fanfiction #queue #my stories

[shokami]

wc ; 1k in total

featuring ; kuroo, kenma, akaashi, and bokuto

synopsis ; being in a poly relationship with four people was never an easy task, but things get worse when the squish of peace goes missing. poly! headcanons and drabble.

you started dating kuroo first, that’s how this all ended up happening.

next thing you knew, you ended up developing feelings for kenma, which you really thought was going to be an awkward conversation. turns out they were actually pretty ecstatic to be in a poly relationship with you.

as for how bokuto and akaashi ended up being a part of your relationship? well, you like to refer to that as a happy accident.

kuroo was very attached to a select few people, and it happened to be the four of you— so it was no surprise that you all hung out grouped together all of the time.

before you knew it, you were all basically acting like you were dating. akaashi would show up with lunch, or groceries, or with a moody bokuto at 2 A.M because ‘kuroo and kenma didn’t share you’.

you even got into the habit of showing up to every single one of MSBY’s games, and cheered him on from the front row.

it even got to the point where you were showing up at akaashi’s office to make sure he had lunch, or a late dinner.

don’t get it twisted though, you still paid special attention to kuroo and kenma too.

speaking of them, you indirectly hinted at the fact that you felt like you were all in a giant relationship together… to which kuroo awkwardly laughed and made a joke about it.

little did you know he had been thinking the same thing, and discussed it with kenma whether or not they should ask.

they never got the chance to because a few days later, bokuto and akaashi were leaving when akaashi kissed you, and kuroo accidentally dropped an ‘i love you’ to bokuto. this basically initiated the spider-man meme.

you had all gotten so comfortable being that close with one another, that things just formed on their own without anyone realizing at first.

that night led to a long conversation on whether or not the five of you could have a sensible relationship together.

spoiler warning: you did, and you guys were so disgustingly cute together.

it was a perfect balance. kuroo and bokuto were the loud duo, and you joked about how they gave the rest of you ‘scary dog privileges’.

then there was kenma and akaashi, who were the more silent and comforting, yet somehow still chaotic in their own ways—

you on the other hand, managed to be the mix that sat in the inbetween. your energy changed depending who you were around, and if it was all of them… it took your entire mental capacity to control them.

a lot of boundaries were in place, and everyone got days to be alone and take a break, and even days with specific partners for days out. it was the best way for no one to become overwhelmed, and it kept arguments and fights to a bare minimum.

your relationship is so healthy, and loving that it makes everyone else curious on how it works

you never have an answer, but it’s okay because not everyone needs to know

let it be known that in your house there is a singular reversible octopus squishy.

you and kenma are definitely the ones who use it the most, and bokuto is a close second.

akaashi used it once when he was tired and grumpy, and that gained him a lot of space from everyone and extra cuddles from you.

kuroo however, has never used it but he is in charge of keeping track of where it is and who has it. everyone calls him the mood watcher, he’s like your personal mood ring.

“TETSUROU,” you and bokuto ran into the living room out of breath, a look of terror on your faces. “Where is Mr. Octopus squishy?!”

Kuroo looked up from his spot on the couch, Akaashi sat beside him looking unbothered and focused as he wrote, “Yn, you don’t have it? I thought you were the last one with it.”

“YOU LOST MR. OCTOPUS?!” Bokuto whisper yelled, finally causing Akaashi to look up at the two of you.

“Kenma is setting up for a stream, and he is in a big bad mood— we need the octopus ASAP.” you calmly explained, pushing Bokuto in the opposite direction to look around the house.

The octopus squishy was seen as a sacred item in your house, and was always needed to express moods and the vibe of the room. You had vividly remembered giving it back to Kuroo last week, and you had no idea where he could’ve misplaced it. The damned octopus was vital for Kenma’s moods, and if you couldn’t find it… then you’d never know when the area was safe.

A bit dramatic, but it was a process that worked.

Both Kuroo and Akaashi began to look for the octopus with you two, and you knew everyone would get lectured for losing the squish of peace.

After about twenty minutes of looking, Kuroo found him tucked away in one of the many blankets around the house, “Okay, now who’s going to get it to him?”

You all fell silent, glancing at each other as the task presented itself. Kenma was the worst one out of everyone when it came to his bad moods, and none of you wanted to face his wrath.

“Kou I think you’re up—“

“HUH?? TETSUROU YOU LOST IT, YOU DO IT.”

“YEAH BUT YOU’RE FASTER, AREN’T YOU?”

Trying your best to refrain from laughing at the two arguing, you knew Bokuto would be the one to do it simply for the ego boost. “Okay take Mr. Octopus, you got this babe!”

Standing outside of Kenma’s streaming room, Bokuto took several deep breaths and prepared himself to run in and right back out.

“Speed. Speed. I am speed.”

You started giggling behind Kuroo, while he hyped himself up. Akaashi looked as if he was losing the remainder of his brain cells, listening to Bokuto recite quotes from the movie, Cars.

“Ok, Lightning Mcqueen…”

© All rights reserved by SHOKAMI. Do not modify, repost on any platforms, plagiarize, or claim as your own.

#bokuaka #bokuaka x reader #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #kozume kenma #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #kenma kozume #kuroo tetsurou x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #kozume kenma x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #kenma kozume x reader #hq!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #kenma x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto headcanons #akaashi headcanons #kenma headcanons #kuroo headcanons #hq imagines #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu!! x reader

[hookingminor]

invisible string - cale makar

a/n: another old fic rewritten for our fav defenseman sorry the gif I found is so large I could not find any horizontal ones I liked that fit my aesthetic rip

word count: 3.6k

warnings: alcohol, very brief mentions of blood/injury

summary: based on taylor swift’s invisible string

-

You were going to miss this park.

Every Saturday afternoon you come here. Most of the time, you spent your day underneath the large oak tree planted in the center of the park, nose deep in whatever book you were currently reading. This month’s choice was I’ll Give You The Sun. Occasionally, you would do homework or take a nap, but your favorite thing to do was read. This oak tree was your favorite spot in all of Calgary, and you were really going to miss it.

After five years in Calgary, you were finally moving back home to Denver. Your family moved around a lot as your dad was transferred frequently, but your true home was Denver. You hadn’t been back there since you were six, but it was still home.

Calgary was always temporary. You knew eventually you’d pack up and leave, your parents dragging you along with them because you were only sixteen and had no choice, but it got exhausting after a while. You just wanted to stay somewhere.

Even though you knew your time in Calgary was limited, it didn’t stop you from falling in love with the city.

On the Saturdays that you spent tucked away underneath the tree, you always let your mind wander into daydreams of meeting someone there. You dreamed of being swept away in a whirlwind of a romance, and it all started with meeting someone at the park. All your daydreams could probably be tied back to the numerous romances you continuously read or due to the fact you longed for a teenage love, but what could you say? You were a hopeless romantic. Maybe it would be someone walking their dog or an afternoon jogger running into you or a lost tourist asking for directions. Either way, you thought it would be the most romantic meet-cute, under your special tree.

Five years passed, though, and your dreams of meeting someone dwindled until the only reasons you went to the park were purely for peace and quiet. Now, you were spending your last day in Calgary in your favorite spot, soaking up the sunshine as you finished your latest book.

On the last page, five paragraphs from being done, you heard a loud scream.

Your head snapped up, concentration broken as you searched around for the origin of the noise. Lo and behold, off in the distance, you saw the form of a boy rollerblading down the bike trail. There must have been some sticks or rocks on the path because the boy kept shouting as he wailed his arms around, unable to stop.

You watched as he continued stumbling for a few seconds before he careened off the trail and into the grass, tumbling onto the ground before rolling into a nearby tree.

Initially, your jaw dropped in shock, a soft gasp escaping as you covered your mouth with your hand. You waited a few seconds, watching for movement, and then you heard the pained groans coming from the injured boy.

The boy gradually pushed himself up by his hands, and you could see the bloody scrapes on his forearms even from your distance away. He slowly got back up on his feet, limping across the grass as he made his way back to the trail.

Not being able to help yourself, you began laughing at his misfortune. Now that you knew he was okay, the screaming and fall replayed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

You thought you were far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you were sadly mistaken. The boy’s head turned to the sound of your laughter, and he followed it until his eyes met yours. You stopped laughing, but the smile on your face refused to fall as you took in his disheveled state.

He watched you try to hide your amused smile to no avail. It only took a few seconds of chuckling while directly staring at him before he returned your smile with one of his own. You saw a flash of teeth and the corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. He gave you one last glance, shaking his head slightly before turning back towards the direction he’d come from. You watched his figure rollerblade back down the path, avoiding the obstructions this time, and disappear from your vision.

The boy rollerbladed to the park the next Saturday. He skated by the same spot where he fell last week and glanced over to the centered oak tree, hoping to see you again, but you were nowhere to be found.

-

Cale couldn’t sleep. It seemed like no matter what he did, he just couldn’t fall asleep. The team had put him in a hotel for a few weeks while they worked on finding him a more permanent residence, but despite the comfort of the hotel bed, he didn’t find the mattress agreeable.

He’d been in Denver for two weeks now and he’d yet to see anything in the city besides the arena. His days were full of hockey practices and meetings, and his evenings were full of extra training at the gym. The latter was his own personal choice; he didn’t want to squander his chance at playing in the NHL and felt that he needed to train a little harder, being new and all.

He tossed and turned in bed for two hours before finally giving up. Sleep obviously wasn’t going to come to him soon, so he might as well kill some time instead.

Pulling out his phone, Cale searched ‘diners near me’ into Google and scrolled through the list of options. He selected the one nearest to him that was also open twenty-four hours, entered the address into maps, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and was out of the door within three minutes.

The chilly, brisk walk to the diner took ten minutes from the hotel. Cale hadn’t been in Denver long, but he knew the weather was going to agree with him, if only because he had so much experience with the bitter cold Calgary winters.

A bell dinged above his head as he entered through the front door. Cale glanced around the small diner, noticing a few old truckers at the counter, a young teenage couple near the window, and a girl his age tucked away into a corner booth writing into a notebook.

A middle-aged woman with graying hair approached him at the front, a menu in her hand.

“Just one?” She asked him, noticing his lost puppy look. Cale nodded his head in agreement, following the lady to a secluded booth.

She set down the menu in front of him before pulling out a mug to pour him a cup of coffee.

“New around here?” She asked him as his eyes read the menu slowly.

“Is it that obvious?” He replied with an awkward chuckle.

“We usually have a small group of regulars. Your ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look is a dead giveaway,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

The woman walked back behind the counter, serving more coffee to the truckers. He saw one cook in the back kitchen ,but other than those two, no one else was working. Probably because it was a little past two in the morning on a Wednesday.

He took his time reading over the menu; he couldn’t decide if he wanted a breakfast platter or a nice burger with fries. He’d narrowed it down to two options when he saw you shuffle out of the corner booth, backpack slung over your shoulders.

You walked his way, the only path to the front door was past his table. His eyes connected with yours, and you gave him a warm smile.

Pausing next to his booth, he watched you as you leaned over his shoulder.

“If you’ve never been here before, I highly recommend the caramel and cream cheese French toast. It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it anyway if you ask. Oh, and get tater tots instead of the hashbrowns, they’re a lot better,” you suggested.

You flashed him a bright smile, and Cale’s eyes lit up. It felt like he’d seen that smile before, an old memory from a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. He wanted to say thank you or maybe ask what your name was, but you continued on your way out the door before he got a chance to reply. His gaze stayed fixed on the swinging bell above the entrance long after he’d watched you turn down the corner and fade into the night.

His trance was broken when he heard the voice of the waitress call out to him.

“So, did you decide on something?” She asked, a knowing grin on her lips.

The two choices Cale was torn between suddenly vanished from his mind; he couldn’t even remember what he wanted to order before you said something. Cale bit his lip and thought about it. French toast really wasn’t on his diet. All he could do was hope that the extra hours he spent in the hotel gym would pay off and negate the sugar-filled and fatty calories he was about to consume.

Closing the menu without a second glance, he turned his attention towards the waitress. “Yeah, I’ll have the caramel and cream cheese french toast with tater tots, please.”

-

Cale was riding high. The team had just made it to the Stanley Cup finals, and no one could contain their excitement.

Going against the advice of their coaches, a few of them had decided to go out to celebrate. It was nothing big, just a small dive bar on the edge of the city. They wanted to celebrate their hard work, not get so trashed they’d be completely useless for practice tomorrow. They still had their toughest games ahead of them.

The bar was quiet, only a few local patrons were there besides the team. If anyone knew who they were, no one approached them about it. The night passed quickly, laughter and cheers filling the small space as pints of beer were drained.

“Makar, grab the next round,” his captain ordered, and he was too happy to do so. Cale was the resident golden retriever on the team. Someone would say ‘jump’ and Cale would ask ‘how high?’ but he didn’t feel used. He loved being a part of a team. So, he made his way across the room to the bar and ordered two more pints.

For you, it had been a hell of a week. And not in a good way. You finished your Bachelor’s degree almost two weeks ago, but the stress didn’t end when you turned in your last finals. Work was awful, but you still had another couple months until you began your life as a real career woman. You were stuck there for the rest of the summer, promising your supervisor that you wouldn’t leave during their busiest season just because you’d graduated even though you really wanted to put in your two weeks. It was a mistake to make that promise.

After spending a day running numbers and creating spreadsheets that a ten year old could’ve done, all you wanted right now was a drink: the strongest drink you could think of. Perhaps an entire bottle of whiskey if they’d allow it. Or if you could afford it.

The minute after your shift was over, you were out the door and removing the suffocating blazer before you’d even hit the sidewalk. You began the familiar route to your favorite bar, being that it was close to work, cheap, and almost always empty.

When you entered the small bar, you noticed it was slightly busier than normal. Still relatively quiet, but busier than you were used to. You didn’t let it deter you as you walked directly to the bar.

However, it seemed the universe wasn’t done punishing you because when you were five steps away from the countertop, someone turned around abruptly. A hard body slammed into yours along with half a pint of beer.

“Oh, fuck me!” You exclaimed in distress, throwing your hands up as the beer splashed all over your blouse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” The culprit said, setting the beers back on the bar behind him. He reached over to grab a handful of napkins and then began patting furiously at your top.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, “Today just really isn’t my day.” You took the napkins from one of his hands to dry yourself off.

You looked up to face the man who’d drenched you with cheap beer, and you were met with a dazzling pair of blue eyes. They looked familiar, as if you’d seen him before but couldn’t remember where.

He caught your stare, his lips quirking into a smile at the sight of you. Cale felt a tug inside him, like the feeling of butterflies, when he saw your face. Waves of coolness washed over him, and he was lost in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” he said in a daze, unable to look away from you. He really hoped it didn’t come off as creepy, but little did he know you felt the same way.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t attached to it anyway,” you said, all your previous anger leaving your body. It was actually one of your nicer tops that would cost way too much money to dry clean now, but you weren’t thinking about that.

“Do I know you?” You both asked at the same time. The coincidence caused you two to burst out laughing, and he swore he’d heard that laugh before.

“How about I buy you a drink to make up for this?” He asked, beaming from ear to ear.

Your eyes twinkled as you nodded your head, and Cale felt his heart burst at your smile.

-

A year passed in a blurry haze. The night out at the bar turned into a two hour conversation with the stranger who’d spilled beer all over you. He apologized profusely the entire night and introduced himself to make up for it. He only ordered you two drinks, but you spent hours together laughing.

You told him about your hellish day and complained about work, and he recalled the wins and upcoming games he had in the next couple weeks. Soon, you were exchanging life stories and you found out he was originally from Calgary. You discussed your hobbies and interests outside of work, the best movies you’ve seen recently, and where in Denver you could find the most authentic Mexican food.

Eventually, it neared one in the morning, and Cale had to get home for practice in the morning. As much as he wanted to stay longer to talk to you, he knew he had to get going before his teammates ratted him out tomorrow.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” He asked, the drinks between you finished long ago. It sounded a little odd asking a stranger he just met if he could essentially follow her home, but he hoped he didn’t give off stalker vibes.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a smile. It sounded a little odd agreeing to let a stranger you just met have your address, but something tugged at your heartstrings and told you to take the leap.

When he dropped you off outside of your apartment, he had asked for your number. That night turned into a first date and that first date turned into many dates. Cale easily swept you off your feet, and it was even easier to fall in love with him.

After years of dating the wrong guys, of being burned and cheated on and lied to, the world had sent you the perfect man. A man with a soul equivalent to a thousand beaming rays of sunshine all wrapped up in perfect blonde hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

He did everything for you. He sent you flowers randomly, surprised you with your favorite takeout, and took you on the most extravagant dates. You went to his games, house sat his plants when he was on roadtrips, and left him little notes in his suitcases to find when he was away. You knew within two months of dating that he was the one you were going to end up with. Cale was your forever.

There were no awkward phases in your dating life, no uncertainties or questions about what you were as a couple. Cale was as taken with you as you were with him, and you both knew what you wanted out of your relationship. It felt like you knew each other for years, like he’d always been there in the back of your mind, just out of reach and waiting for you to find him.

You didn’t know how much you believed in fate, but it felt like the universe made him specifically for you. He understood you like no one did and you could communicate with him without ever saying a word. If soulmates and other halves did exist, there was no doubt in your mind that Cale was your missing piece.

It was a year after you began dating that Cale invited you back home with him. He wanted you to spend a few weeks over the summer with him and his family in Calgary.

Cale was elated to introduce you to his family. He planned on marrying you one day, and he wanted everyone to meet the woman who’d stolen his heart. Everything about you consumed him: your hair, your eyes, your smile. There wasn’t a single part of you he wasn’t madly in love with and there was nothing about you he’d change. It was a long time coming, you going home with him, and you couldn’t be more excited about it.

He spent the first few days showing you around his favorite childhood hangouts, the rinks he used to skate on and the pizza places he used to frequent with his friends. He showed you his high school, secret hidden spot near a small lake, and the best ice cream shop in all of Calgary.

It was one day when you were walking through the old park you used to read where you shared your favorite spot.

“When I lived here, I used to spend every weekend under that oak tree,” you said randomly, pointing out to the large tree across the grass.

“Really? I used to rollerblade through this park sometimes. One day I completely ate shit on this path,” he chuckled, remembering the painful memory. “I sprained my wrist and arm. Couldn’t play hockey for three weeks.”

“How old were you?” You asked curiously, thinking back to the day you saw a boy fall.

“Sixteen, maybe?” He replied, brows furrowing in thought. You and Cale were the same age.

“This might sound crazy, but I think I saw you fall that day,” you said. Cale turned to look into your eyes.

“Were you the girl laughing at me under the tree?” He asked skeptically. The blush forming on your cheeks and the way you broke eye contact answered the question for you.

“It was you! I always thought it was rude how you didn’t offer to help me,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“To be fair, I was worried when you fell down. But then you got up and seemed okay, so I didn’t bother,” you said defensively.

“Still, you sat there and laughed at me while I bled on the grass,” he teased, slugging your arm lightly.

“Well, it seems that everything turned out okay for you,” you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, it did,” he replied wistfully, reaching down to hold your hand with his.

The two of you walked through the rest of the park, but your gaze kept flickering back to the center field where your tree sat, your brain replaying the daydreams you had about meeting your true love underneath that tree. A nostalgic smile spread across your face, and Cale noticed your suddenly cheery mood.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, a playful grin of his own appearing. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you smile.

“Nothing,” you replied, keeping the tender secret to yourself.

+1

Three years later, Cale took you home with him over the short winter break he got while the All-Star Game happened. You walked through the park together, a tradition that you created ever since that first summer back.

The air was cool and crisp, the skies a beautiful shade of purple and pink against the blue background. He led you over to your favorite tree, pulling you from the usual path you took around the park. In all the times you’ve been to the park with him, you’d never actually taken him to sit under your tree.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of being in your favorite spot with your favorite person. Your heart rate began to pick up as Cale dropped your hand to stand across from you, giving you a knowing smile.

When he took a step back, you felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes as if your heart knew where this was heading before your brain could process it. Cale lowered himself onto one knee before he pulled out a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

The fantasies you created in your mind all those years ago finally came to fruition that snowy day in January. All along you knew that one day you’d meet the love of your life under this tree even if you hadn’t realized it at the time, and you thanked whatever gods existed for the invisible strings that tied you to Cale.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #my writing #avs8

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable  ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 9

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3   Chapter 4 Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8 

Chapter 9

“Fuck yeah....” Jungkook’s grip on my thighs tightened, tugging me closer as he slid into me, deeper and i spluttered a bit, spitting water all over him. 

“This is a bad idea. “ i choked, blinking the water out of my eyes as the shower overhead kept pouring a whole deluge on top of us and Jungkook frowned, glancing at me in annoyance. 

“I’m going to  gag you the next time we have sex.” He grunted, pressing me into the tiled wall of the bathroom and I winced when he pulled out fully and rammed back in, clearly pissed. 

I pouted.

“I’m not good with water. “ I whined, eyes still closed because the water, Christ. It dripped into my eyes and all over my body and i couldn’t even enjoy being fucked right now because I was mortally afraid that Jungkook’s hands were going to slip, he was going to drop me on my butt and i was going to break my tailbone.

Jungkook groaned, more frustration than pleasure and gripped my ass harder, holding me up at a better angle and fucking right back into me, slide made easier both from his cum from earlier and the water. 

“Sera, sweetheart...if you could just shut up for a couple of mutes, I’ll be done. And then i swear I will never try to seduce you in the shower again. Ever.” He begged. 

 “  Why can’t you wait till i finish showering? We literally had sex ten minutes ago, why are you so thirsty? ” I glared at him. Or tried to . But I couldn’t .

Because water. 

‘Okay that’s it,” He pulled out, and I hated that sudden emptiness and this was probably going to be a problem, me being used to having him inside me all the time.

He grabbed the back of my knees, prompting me to get down. But my muscles were still a bit too weary he was dripping wet so I slid down a little, panicking. 

 I gripped his shoulders hard, and he laughed, shaking his head at the look on my face. 

“ I won’t drop you, little one. Stop looking petrified.” He chuckled, before carefully unwrapping my thighs from around his waist and lowering me to the floor. 

“You alright?” He brushed the wet hair off my face and I nodded.

“Can we at least kiss in the shower?” 

I laughed. 

“You can kiss me anywhere you want.” i reached out to press my lips against his and pulled back to smile at him, tilting my head as he ran his fingers down my neck, fingers fluttering against my pulse gently. 

“And can I drink from you?” He asked softly and i froze.

The words made me pause. 

“Jungkook...” I whispered, staring at my feet.

 I couldn’t believe he wanted to. 

He knew my secret. Knew that nothing good would come from feeding from me. That my blood in his veins would do nothing but take away his will, and the scent and taste of it all was just a facade. 

That everything about me was a lie. The innocence, the beauty , the delicate build...all a distraction from what I truly was : a dangerous, manipulative being. Someone capable of doing a lot of damage. 

“Please. When I start courting you, I want to be able to feed from you,  angel... It’s how we vampires build our bond. ...”He said gently. 

I laughed without really feeling it. 

“I would never say no to you. You know that....but... you... you know .” I couldn’t finish. 

“What do I know?” He asked gently, running his thumb across my lip. 

“ you know what my blood does to vampires. You know that I can use it against you.”

“But I also know that you  won’t.”  He said simply and I looked up at him.

“I trust you. “ He said simply.  i swallowed.

“Besides, most women would be glad that their husbands are terrified of them.” He chuckled. 

I knew he was joking but I still felt tears sting. 

I couldn’t bear the thought of Jungkook being afraid of me. 

“I won’t ever do it you know. “ I choked out. “ Take away your consent... I’ve never done it on anyone who didn’t deserve it...even with those boys in college , I was just scared that they would attack me again... That they would bite me again and i was bleeding out and I felt so cold...and i was so scared so I just did the first thing I could think of... I never meant to hurt them... I was just so scared and...” I sobbed out and his arms came around me , pulling me into a hug and I felt the tears spill over, soaking his chest as i clung to him.

“Baby...no...please don’t cry...it’s alright.. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have joked about that...I’m sorry Sera....”

“I’m not a monster. “ I whispered. “ Please don’t be scared of me Gukkie... I’d never hurt you or Joowon.... I’m not a monster.. I don’t want to be. I just.. I just wanted to be normal. It’s not my fault I’m the way i am.... ” 

Jungkook pulled back to cup my face between his hands, I bit my lips, another sob building up when I saw how wet his lashes were. 

“Baby look at me...” He smiled, a watery smile , “ I would never think that. I have never for a second considered you as a threat to me or my son.... you’re...”He shook his head, “ Darling, You’re not normal. You’re perfect.” 

“Now you’re just mocking me.” I muttered, looking away. But he made a noise of protest. 

“I’m not joking. You are easily the most generous  person I’ve ever met, Sera... You give so freely of yourself to everyone, whether they are deserving of it or not... You play with the babies , you take Joo Won out on walks and play ball with him, you do things for me even when I push you away and....God,  do you not know how amazing and kind and generous you are???!! “ He kissed me on the lips, hard , before pulling back. 

I stared at him, laughing a little but he wasn’t done.

“ I’ve never seen anyone as selfless as you. . Just the fact that you’ve given me the privilege to be here, hold you like this, tells me how kind and forgiving you are... You gave a bastard like me a chance, even though I did nothing but hurt you, over and over again.... You’re beautiful , So beautiful, my angel..In fact I was going to wait at least till we were out of the shower, but to hell with it.”

I blinked , surprised , when he grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before rushing out . I grabbed my own robe, surprised, tying it together before following him out to the bedroom. 

He was fumbling in his closet and I felt my heart drop when I saw the small red box. He opened it easily pulling out a glittering necklace with a pendant and a small vial hanging off it. 

“Is that....?” I couldn’t even say it. 

“My birthstone.  It’s a sapphire. “ He smiled. “ And this vial has my blood. You put this on and anyone who comes near you will know that you’re being courted. By me. “ 

“You ... really? You mean this? You really want this?” I asked , nervous and jittery. 

He hesitated, coming closer and gently pulling my hand up . 

Jungkook placed the necklace on my hand, gently curling my fingers closed.

“Whether you put it on, or not. it’s yours. There’s no one else in this world, I would ever want to give this to.” He smiled softly. 

“How dare you!” I bawled. “ I can’t even take a picture because we’re dressed like this!!” 

He laughed. 

“So, i hope that’s a yes?” 

“Yes, you infuriatingly beautiful, beautifully infuriating bastard....! Put it on me!” 

Still laughing , he plucked the necklace off my hand and moved behind me. I smiled as he locked it in place behind my neck, pressing a small kiss to my skin. 

“Thank you. For giving me the privilege to love you.” He breathed against my skin, wrapping me in a warm hug and i closed my eyes. 

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook. You’re never getting rid of me now.” I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...I was thinking... .” I began carefully glancing at Jungkook  who stood leaning against the bed post, fiddling with his phone while I ran a brush through my hair  before tying it up into a messy ponytail. He was already  dressed in jeans and a muscle t and I was ogling his nipples through the mirror. Last night, he’d finally let me bite them. 

“Yes, princess?” He smiled indulgently, looking up and running his eyes up and down my body as usual. I loved that. Being with Jungkook had taught me a lot of things about myself. Things I never knew I could enjoy. 

Like dressing up and being looked at . I’d spent a long time hiding in the shadows, wary of who I was, of letting someone see me for what I was. Feeling beautiful was a distant dream because I just didn’t want to be someone dangerous. Didn’t want anyone to look at me and see a monster. 

But standing here, in the comfort of my own room, dressed in a strapless yellow blouse and a flowy white skirt, with his eyes on me, I felt absolutely beautiful. I fixed the necklace around my neck so it shone bright . 

“ its Saturday. Not a lot of kids at the day care center so I don’t have to be there at all... Would the five hundred year old vampire be willing to spend a day indulging the twenty one year old human’s love for cotton candy and tandem bike rides by the river?” 

Jungkook laughed. 

“That’s something Joo Won would come up with. Are the two of you trying to play me again?”

Thwarted, I gave him a pout.

“It’s a beautiful day Jungkook!! Jo o Won loves the river... i took him there with Somi when you you were holed up with my father for two weeks and he had such a good time!! “

“You know...if you’re going to be the parental figure in his life, you need to learn to better resist his puppy dog eyes.” Jungkook said drily. “ Besides, I was hoping it could just be the two of us today. Celebrate  our courtship? “

I frowned. 

“I’m not leaving Joo Won alone... He’ll be bored.” I said firmly.

“Alright...how about you ask him yourself and let him decide?” He suggested with a smile. 

I hesitated , suspicious. 

Alright.

i followed Jungkook downstairs to the huge foyer and  then past the guards to the dining room for breakfast. 

To my surprise, Joo Won sat at the table with my father, both of them dressed in identical outfits. White t shirts, white pants and shoes , digging into toast and eggs. 

“Sera !! Sera!! Grandpa Hwang is taking me fishing!!!” Joo Won seemed to be vibrating out of his skin in excitement and i glanced at Jungkook in shock.

“you planned this.” I protested.

He shrugged.

“It was actually I who suggested it. i intend to get  to know my grandson better.” My father said with a bright smile and I felt the tears sting again as he looked at me, eyes warm and happy. 

“Oh, dad...” I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. 

“You’re glowing my dearest. And what do I smell?” He pulled back, eyes landing on the necklace. “ Ah. Finally plucked up the courage, have you my boy?” 

He gave Jungkook a wink and a grin. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, smiling. 

“Excellent. Once all this distressing stuff with Tae Kwan is over, we will celebrate your betrothal in a grand manner. For now, let me take my handsome fishing partner and get out of your hair, with the promise to bring you a delicious catch for dinner tonight. Perhaps together? As a family?” My father smiled wide, eyes trained on Jungkook and he went red.

“Yes, sir.”

My father harrumphed.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to be calling me...”

I laughed as Jungkook went redder.

“Sorry.. I.. yes father. We will join you for dinner. “ He smiled a genuine smile and my father beamed at him. 

“Excellent....now sit down and let’s eat.” 

We sat next to my father and I remembered the first time my father had invited Jungkook to sit for breakfast with us. 

“Honey, would you like a drink?” i teased, fluttering my fingers against my neck and Jungkook flushed. My father guffawed heartily, highly amused. 

“Ahh yes... that was the morning i realized my daughter was a complete fool for you, Jungkook ah. “ He chuckled. 

“She told me about herself, father.” Jungkook said softly and my father looked surprised. He gave me a smile .

“It is good be honest with each other. I’m glad she did.” He said softly. “You may be overwhelmed by it, Jungkook ah. We have never seen anything like her. I haven’t encouraged her to pursue it because I’m not sure how it would affect her. Her blood is magic....but she herself isn’t. I don’t want her abilities robbing her of her life, especially because we don’t know the true extent of them.” 

I bit my lips.

‘I won’t use them .” I said softly . 

“You shouldn’t. They take a toll on your mind and I don’t ever want to see you in that condition again.” My father said firmly. 

Jungkook gave me a curious glance but I shook my head. 

“Please don’t worry about me father . I have Jungkook now. He’s going to keep me safe. Even though you no longer have to pay him for it.” I laughed. 

My father chuckled. 

We finished breakfast, with Jungkook and my father talking about business while Joo Won told me all the fishes he could name and how their feeding habit varied. He had a great love for books and his birthday was coming up in a few weeks. I had already bulk ordered a bunch of his favorite authors for him. 

When we were finally done, we walked out to the driveway where two cars stood, one to take me and Jungkook out for the day and a golf cart for my father to drive Joo Won down to the lake. 

“We’ll be home for dinner then.” Jungkook gave my father a hug and my father looked positively ecstatic at the gesture. I knew he had always loved him deeply and as Jungkook moved away to tie Joo Won’s shoe laces, I could help but snuggle up to his side. 

“you knew.” I said gently.

My father hummed, ruffling my hair affectionately. 

“Knew what , my dearest?” 

“That I would fall in love with him. You knew and that’s why you brought her here. You love him deeply and you wanted him by your side. To keep him and Joo Won safe.” 

My father smiled.

“you are perceptive. Yes... I have always regarded Jungkook as my son. i wanted him here where I could protect him. And that’s why i brought him here. And i hoped that you would both grow fond of each other....  But it wasn’t because i knew you would fall in love with him.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. It was because I knew  he  would fall in love with  you.” 

I turned to look up at him and he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

“ I told you dearest. i will never settle for anything but your complete happiness. And I think that is with Jungkook.” His eyes shifted away and I followed his gaze to where Jungkook was kneeling in front of his son, nuzzling his hair and hugging him tight. 

“They are your family now and I am at peace.” He said softly. 

Jungkook and Joo Won straightened and moved towards us, identical grins on their faces.

“He’s all ready .” Jungkook said softly. 

“Excellent. Come then young master Jeon...let’s go see what treasures the water fairy will bring us today....” My father took Joo Won’s hand and Joo Won’s eyes went wide. Giving me one last kiss on my cheek, my father led him away. 

“The water fairy?”

“Why yes, haven’t you heard of her? come... I’ll tell you all about it.” 

I watched the pair of them walk up to the golf cart on the driveway. 

I turned back to Jungkook smiling and holding my hand out.

“Looks like You get to have me all to yourself today, Jungk-”

The gunshot rang out behind me, right as my fingers brushed Jungkook’s. 

Terror as I’d never known flooded my veins as i froze, eyes trained on Jungkook who was already moving. My fingers shook, breath ripped right out of my lung, blood turning to ice in my veins as I turned around. 

The first thing that caught my eye was the commotion across the lawn, guards subduing a man into the ground, a shot gun lying by his side. 

And as my eyes finally saw the golf cart, I saw my father, slumped over the wheel, soaked in scarlet. 

The scream that got torn out of me was feral.

 My throat in agony as I raced to the vehicle. Joo won was on the floor, between my fathers legs and I realized that he had pushed the child down, covering him with his body right before the gunshot had rang out. 

Jungkook pulled his son into his arms but I could only crawl over to my father, gripping his face as he gurgled, blood flowing out of him in a torrent. 

“Daddy!” i whimpered... “ Oh God..no... Please...” I pressed my wrist to his mouth, but he was too weak to move, the shot gun bullet at such close quarters having left too much damage to his body. i saw the carnage, the blood and the mess and I sobbed in disbelief. 

“We need to get him to the clinic...!!” Jungkook’s arms came around me , pulling me away as men crowded my father, lifting him off the seat and onto a stretcher.  

“Se....ra...” My father’s broken voice made my knees buckle and I shoved Jungkook away, rushing to his side as they wheeled him to the nearest car.

“Daddy..I’m here... I’m right here... I’m going to fix this....we’re going to fix this...you’re going to be okay... Hang on... “ i begged and he chuckled weakly another spurt of blood dribbling down his lips.

“Wanted...to walk you...down ...”He closed his eyes, “the aisle...” 

‘I sobbed out in agony, the pain so heavy and all consuming that i felt like i was being torn to shreds on the inside. 

“You are...You are going to daddy...You’re the only one who can...the only one I have... Oh please God...no...” 

“I love you...”Take care of her, Jungkook-ah...”  He said firmly, eyes blazing red as he stared over me and i realized that Jungkook had followed me, was holding me up as he watched my father die. I saw him reach out and grip my father’s hand squeezing tight. 

“They’ll be fine father. All of them. Rest easy...” Jungkook whispered and I felt my heart crack clean in two. 

 I saw my father’s  eyes grow dimmer and felt hope leave my body leaving ice cold grief in its place. . No.. No...

“Dad...” I stopped crying, shock taking over me as i instinctively realized what was happening. 

He was dying. 

My father was dying. 

His hands went up, touching my face gently. 

“My favorite... “ He smiled weakly  and  I watched the light leave his eye forever. He slumped, softly, his hands falling away and I sagged. Jungkook caught me to his body. 

“I’m so sorry angel.” i could feel the damp of his tears as he cried into my neck. 

 I felt the cold in my heart as the bond between my father an I  pulsed and burned , really bright for one split second before fading abruptly, leaving icy cold behind. 

Screams rang out from all around me, from the windows over head and from across the estate. Somewhere I heard my sister’s roar of rage .

 Somi’s screams followed by Jimin’s sobs. 

Everyone had felt it.

Everyone in the clan had felt the death of the Hwang clan’s leader, shot dead on his own lawn by some traitor who had managed to break his way in 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m so sorry. 

feedback is loved. 

Taglist : 

@ladyartemesia        @veronawrites   @alpaca1612     @bonyg    @unseejuice21  @sppvjj     @ggukkieland     @tae-by-tae      @blr1004      @yoongichild    @stussyjeon  @jellybearo  @sumzysworld   @carolsummerlove@bunniechoon  @unicornbabylover @preciouschimine    @baekhyunatthehaunted-house @craztextae   @nikkiordonez12

@jiminiscricket​  @yeotan07​

@chimchimmy95bts  @jinscharms​

@danietoww04   @ jungoodeewani29  

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fics #jungkook smut #jungkook vampire au #jungkook vampire #bts vampire au #bts au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts smut #bts fics

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath. 

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked. 

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said. 

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said. 

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“We used to talk about guys,” she said. 

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said. 

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said. 

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed. 

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone. 

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean. 

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. 

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean x #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #doctor!dean x reader

[elvish-sky]

‘Shush’ and ‘Fuck Off’ Are the Fellowship's Favorite Sayings {Platonic Fellowship}

A.N: Wow! I haven’t written a oneshot or a fic with just canon characters in forever- this was very much needed! I was also cackling the entire time I wrote this, it was so nice to write something funny again. Also, I do headcanon Aragorn as bi- which is very much not relevant until the end of the fic, and this request is completely platonic like asked for, don’t worry! But yeah, this was a true delight to write and I hope you guys love it!

Requested by anon on Tumblr: I wish you would write a (platonic) fic in which Legolas has horrible posture and won't stop slouching and it gets on Aragorn's nerves all the time

Word Count: 1,204

Pairing: Platonic Fellowship

Summary: Legolas’s slouching annoys Aragorn so much that he enlists the help of two hobbits to do something about it.

Warnings: Fluff, Humor, Explicit Language

*******

Shush and Fuck Off Are the Fellowship's Favorite Sayings

“Legolas,” Aragorn hissed.

The elf turned, puzzled.

“What?”

“Sit up straight!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. “Really, Aragorn? This? Again?”

“It’s important to have good posture! You should know that!”

Legolas’ brain flashed back to his lessons as a child. He vaguely recalled something about sitting up straight, but he had never done so just to spite his father. Oh, well, it was too late now. He’d been slouching for thousands of years, at this point. Aragorn would just have to deal with it.

“We’re camping, in the middle of a forest, with only the rest of the Fellowship. Why do I need to have good posture?”

Aragorn sighed, leaving the elf without another word. He’d have to think about this more, but he was determined to make Legolas realize the value of good posture. Even if he had to put a permanent watch on Legolas to make him not slouch.

“Pssst. Merry. Merry!”

Merry turned to see Aragorn, shockingly, lying flat on his stomach behind a rock.

“What?”

“C’mere. Bring Pippin.”

Merry tapped Pippin on the shoulder.”C’mon. Aragorn wants us.”

Pippin’s eyes widened. “What? Why?” His voice dropped to a whisper, “Did he find the beetles? Because you know that was your idea!”

Merry shook his head. “I don’t know. But c’mon!”

Pippin, looking very worried, shimmied down the rock next to Merry, and the two of them crawled, on their stomachs, away from that campfire.

About five feet away from where they’d started, Pippin slumped with a sigh.

“Why are we crawling like this?”

“No clue. That’s what Aragorn was doing, so I figured we should do it too!”

Pippin shook his head. “That ranger is crazy, Merry. Don’t do what he does.”

“That ranger is right here.”

Pippin’s yelp of surprise at Aragorn appearing literally right next to him was stifled by the ranger’s hand slapping over his mouth.

“Shhh.”

Pippin pushed his hand away. “Why?!”

The ranger stayed silent and gestured for the two hobbits to join him behind a large tree, where he finally stood up. Merry and Pippin rose with him, brushing off their clothes and generally acting very annoyed.

“Okay, Aragorn,” said Pippin. “You have us here. Now, what is this all about?”

“Legolas,” Aragorn said. “More specifically, Legolas’s slouching.”

The hobbits groaned.

“Really? You’re still on that?” Merry asked.

“He shouldn’t slouch!!” Aragorn exclaimed. “He’s a prince, for crying out loud!”

Merry facepalmed. “It’s not like he needs to be princely right now! We’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“First of all, we’re not in the middle of nowhere, we’re _

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?” Pippin yelled.

“Because I’m smart.” Aragorn shot back. “Anways, secondly IT IS THE PRINCIPLE OF THE MATTER!!”

Merry shushed him.

Aragorn glared at him.

Merry glared back.

Finally, Pippin stepped between the two. “Fine, Aragorn, we’re in. What do you want us to do?”

Aragorn shrugged, “Just don’t let him slouch. Or train him to stop slouching. Do whatever you want, as long as it works,” and then the ranger turned, fell to the ground, and began crawling back to the campsite.

Pippin smirked, looking at Merry, “This should be fun.”

Merry rubbed his hands together. “Yes, it very much should. Shall we get started.”

Pippin nodded, and they both dropped to their stomachs and shimmied back to the campsite.

Legolas was getting more and more pissed off. For the past week, Merry and Pippin had been trailing him like dogs. They followed him literally everywhere he went, and he even swore he’d seen one of them awake while he was on watch- right before a squirrel had suddenly dropped onto his head and and fallen asleep. He’d stayed sitting up stick-straight the whole night so as to not dislodge it, and then, when it woke up, ran down to the river to wash his hair.

The hobbits had caused some sort of commotion every time he’d gone to relax- he was sure it was them, because who else could it have been? Now, he was going to confront them and find out what in Middle-Earth was going on.

Merry shrieked as a blond blur threw him over its shoulder and set off running. He looked to his left, and saw Pippin waving at him from where he was slung over the other shoulder.

“Where d’ya think we’re going?” Pippin asked.

“Wherever Legolas takes us, I guess!”

Because, of course, the blond blur was, in fact, Legolas.

Finally, the elf set them down, then paced back and forth in front of them, frowning.

This went on for several minutes, until Pippin piped up.

“Legola-”

“Shush!” The elf replied.

Pippin turned to Merry. “What is with all the shushing lately?”

Legolas shushed him again, and Pippin sat back, annoyed,

Finally Legolas spoke. “What did Aragorn put you two up to?”

The hobbits looked at each other, and then shrugged. In unison.

“Not a thing,” Merry told the elf.

Legolas approached Merry, annoyance clear in his eyes. As he drew closer, the hobbit scooched farther and farther back on the rock he was sitting on, until, with a yelp, he tumbled right off the back.

Legolas kept advancing until he was standing right above the hobbit.

“What. Did. Aragorn. Make. You. Do?”

“Wellllllll…”

Twenty minutes later, Legolas stormed into the clearing, Merry and Pippin frantically trying to keep up with the elf’s furious strides.

Legolas walked up to Aragorn, staring right into the man’s eyes.

“YOU TOLD MERRY AND PIPPIN TO NOT LET ME SLOUCH?!!!”

“We can explain!” said Merry.

“Shush!” Boromir told him, “I want to see what this is all about!”

The two hobbits went over to sit with Frodo and Sam in a huff. All their hard work to get Legolas to not slouch, and he’d found out.

Legolas continued to rage at Aragorn. “I cannot BELIEVE YOU’D DO THIS!!!! My posture is PERFECT FOR ME, AND I DON’T NEED YOU JUDGING ME FOR IT ALL THE TIME!!!”

Aragorn ws now also annoyed. “Well excuse me for looking after your spinal health! I just wanted you to not have constant back pain, but nooooo, you don’t care! You don’t care about looking presentable, you don’t care about it hurting, you just don’t care!”

“That’s right!” Legolas exclaimed. “I don’t care! I’m an elf, Aragorn, it’s not going to hurt my back. And secondly, who gives a damn about looking presentable in the middle of the woods. Now kindly tell your hobbit posture police to fuck off!”

Aragorn still looked pretty pissed, but backed off. “Fine. But when you get in trouble with your father again, don’t come crawling to me!”

The two went to sit on opposite sides of the clearing, both fuming.

Sometime later, Legolas turned around to see the ranger slouching on his side of the clearing.

Gleeful, Legolas called out “Aragorn! You’re slouching!”

Aragorn’s spine became as straight as an arrow. “Fuck off!!” He yelled at the elf.

As the ranger sulked in the corner, Legolas burst into laughter. The rest of the Fellowship joined in, all cackling at the grumpy ranger in the corner.

Whose spine, of course, was now as straight as, well, not himself. It was, again, as straight as an arrow.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Legolas tag: @from-patroclus-with-love @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

#maiawrites #lord of the rings #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #tolkien #aragorn #legolas #merry #pippin #merry and pippin #boromir and his hobbits #gandalf #gimli #frodo #sam #boromir #aragorn annoys legolas #legolas annoys aragorn #fluff #humor #crackfic #crack fic #aragorn fanfic #legolas fanfic #aragorn and legolas