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#his entry into heaven
princesstaxiboy · 4 months
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The Mountain Goats, Steal Smoked Fish + Jan van Eyck, The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb (closed view)
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webshood · 3 months
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Imagine doing everything by the book, living a lawful and faithful life, 24/7 every single year of your life just so you can go to heaven, and when you get there you find famous criminal Red Hood, the guy who has a crime list so big it could be printed on 1k pages double-sided font arial 12 and it would still lack paper, and he's not only on heaven, but on the premium version of it
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bleaksqueak · 7 months
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Groose is the best Zelda character, no one can change my mind.
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devotedlystrangewizard · 10 months
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thinking gabriel thoughts (again)
#the guy who cut down minos without a second thought is the same guy who was the only angel to care about the ferrymen. fucking dies#his terminal entry literally says hes popular in heaven because of his radiant personality. he does nothing but insult v1 in 3-2#get you a man who can do both#minos swears revenge on him while the ferryman literally worships him.#the skeleton in 1-4 who is worshipping him even after their life is long gone and the mural in 4-3 with traitor written over it#he looms over the narrative even when hes not there#he encourages even those in hell to Be Good and Have Faith but destroyed minos for trying to make a better life#different characters have extremely different views of him and all of them make sense!#heaven's specialest little boy can be hell's worst nightmare. as a treat#i also think about minos a lot by extension#i was just chilling on the wiki when i got hit with the 'he thought it unreasonable that people were punished for loving' and cried#like even as someone whos aroallo. it got to me!#it also raises the question of how much homosexuality is part of that. to me#is heaven ultrakill homophobic. discuss#i mean they do have Major bisexual lighting. in lust.#yeah sure theyre in hell hell is eternal punishment but he really was just. trying to make a peaceful existence#also the sisyphean insurrectionist lore fucked me up a little#ultrakill on the surface looks so simple but then you open up the wiki and its 'yeah the ferrymen tore their own flesh off their bones'#'king minos attempted to make a peaceful civilization in the lust layer and was killed for it but he lingered bc hes op'#'yeah actually the sisyphean insurrectionists are like that because the angels took away everything they didnt need for the punishment'#and you just have to live with that information now. you wont go back to blissful ignorance. you cant.#or thats just on me for taking lore too seriously. v1 doesnt care
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fearthecoldblood · 2 years
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there’s something about commander niall that’s kinda..........
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I was in the exact same situation as you when it comes to tgcf (was spoiled by memes and fanfics and watched the two seasons of the donghua before actually reading the books), and, oh boy, you're still in for a ride, it makes for quite the experience.
Some things suddenly make a lot more sense, too, and it's so fun to see all the little changes and make your own interpretations from the actual text rather than popular headcanons. However, volumes 7 and 8 (as well as parts of vol.6) had a lot of things that were previously unknown to me, despite the many spoilers from fics and posts! So that was fun to discover.
I'm not even halfway through the first book and quite a lot of things are already making more sense, both from the cartoon and things mentioned in fandom that didn't make it into the cartoon. Xie Lian spends so much more time up in Heaven than I thought! I'd gotten the impression from the show that the day after the Mount Yujun mission was complete he was just running off the edge to the mortal realm immediately xD He'd pop into the communication array to share random interesting facts until Ling Wen told him he was being weird! Also the "God of Misfortune" stuff is coming up a lot sooner than I expected. I hope there's a lot of stuff I don't know coming up - that's part of what I started reading the books for, after all! I'm really quite excited :)
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」
aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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“bwah!” a nudge.
“myah!” a shove.
and then—
“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.
“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.
and it was the baby—his baby.
your giggles filled the air in response.
“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”
the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.
you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”
a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”
“heav—pfft—”
“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”
“wha—no! that’s team effort!”
“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.
“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”
“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”
“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”
“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”
“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”
later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”
satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.
knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.
you really do love him, don’t you?
“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.
“satoru.”
“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—
you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”
“…?!”
for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.
“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.
“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”
. . .
safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.
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microclown · 4 months
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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..
Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?
Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.
As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.
That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.
Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.
I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"
But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.
It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!
And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.
And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.
idk it just makes me feel things ok
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months
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Cats and Coffee for Two
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pairing: photgrapher/barista!Wonwoo x barista fem!reader (ft. other sebongs)
genre: fluff, comedy, coworkers to lovers!AU, mutual pining, smut - minors dni.
warnings: mentions of food, alcohol and cat hairs, mentions of headaches and insecurities
smut warnings: oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex (contraception is mentioned but wrap it), creampie, praise, use of petnames, body worship, semi-public sex, manhandling, marking, making out, aftercare
word count: 12.2k
summary: Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.
Author's note: this is my entry for the fall-ing for you collab hosted by @svthub! another long piece written by yours truly lmao
p.s.: huge thank you to @bitchlessdino, @gyuwoncheol, @wongyuseokie, @onlymingyus, @wonwussy, @horanghater and @shuadotcom for helping me out with the fic in more ways than one💕
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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“....We received your CV and cover letter. While your educational details are impressive, the lack of working experience does not make you a suitable candidate for the work position in our company. 
We thank you for your time and effort, and we wish you the best of luck.”
“Well fuck off, autogenerated e-mail response.” Wonwoo grumbles and sends the mail straight to the trash bin with an annoyed huff.
Another job opportunity flushed down the drain, to the point where another headache punches its way into his skull. 
He’s tired. He’s tired, drained and disappointed as fuck. He knew job hunting is a tough sport, but he didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb for such a long time. He was hoping to get a chance for an interview, but not even that? 
It makes him wonder if the years he spent in college were worth it after all. 
Wonwoo’s headache gets stronger, to the point he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He closes his laptop and gets up from his seat, making a beeline to the cupboard where he stores his medical supplies.
He swallows a painkiller, followed by a generous gulp of water from a bottle, hoping it will soothe the pain soon enough.
He walks over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. His energy levels have dropped to absolute zero and the maroon colored couch pillow suddenly seems like a gift sent by the Heavens. He takes off his glasses and lays his head on the pillow, eyes closing shut within a few seconds.
Two hours later, his sweet slumber is disrupted by the familiar ringtone of his phone, but the noise doesn’t make him any less terrified. 
“H-Hello?”
“Hi loser, it’s me, your professional emotional and mental support!” A bright voice echoes from the other end of the line.
Wonwoo checks the ID of the caller and groans when he sees Seokmin’s name.
“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?”
“Bold of you to ask that question.”
“I am serious, Seok. Haven’t you heard of afternoon naps?”
“Dude, it’s eight o’clock.”
Wonwoo checks his watch and sighs in disappointment. “Fuck, I overslept, damnit.”
“Just how long were you asleep for?”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you call me?”
“Oh I don’t know, because you’re my friend and I want to check up on you because you’ve been in a slump lately?”
“Damn, way to call me out, I guess.”
“If I don’t call you out, then who will?!”
“....Fair point.”
“Anyways, I’m planning to grab some drinks with Minghao in an hour.”
“Oh nice, hope you have fun.”
“And you’re coming with us.”
“No.”
“Oh come on! It won’t be anything wild, just the three of us drinking some alcohol!” Seokmin whines. “Please? Just this once?”
Wonwoo ponders over his friend’s request and grumbles from his end.
“Fine, if it means to make you hop off my ass, I guess.”
“What ass?”
“You know what, I changed my mi-”
“I’m just kidding!”
“You better be.”
“Okay okay, no need to get your claws out!” 
“Anyways, I’ll see you guys in an hour.” 
“Nice! Make sure to shower before getting out of the house.”
“Fuck you, Seokmin.”
Wonwoo ends the phone call and gets up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a whiff from his shirt and he scrunches his eyes in disappointment.
“He’s right, I should take a shower.”
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Wonwoo is glad he accepted Seokmin’s invitation, because he had no idea how much he needed this. Not that he would ever admit it.
“You seem less tense than earlier.” Minghao comments.
“It’s all thanks to the alcohol.” 
“And the good company!” Seokmin butts in with his soju glass. “It’s okay to admit I was right.”
“And let it get to your head? No thank you.”
“Wonwoo is right, it will get to your head.” 
“I hate you both!” Seokmin whines and downs his shot.
“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” The younger man deadpans.
Wonwoo watches the bickering between his friends, the rim of the soju glass resting on his bottom lip. But his mind is wicked enough to slip back into his own worries, his face frowning once more.
“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”
Minghao’s voice snaps him out of his trance.
“Hm? Yeah, all good.”
“Buddy, with all due respect, you were looking like your pet cat died or something.” Seokmin narrows his eyes.
“Fuck off, Salem is perfectly fine!” Wonwoo shivers.
“Are you still worried about finding a job?” Minghao asks, hitting the nail on the head.
“Well, how can I not be? I have been struggling ever since I graduated and all I’ve managed to do is photoshoots for stupid influencers!”
He realizes his voice was louder than it was supposed to be, judging from the side-eyeing glares he earned from other customers.
“Damn, you really had to stoop so low?” Seokmin scratches his head.
“Money makes the world go around, or something like that.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Minghao asks again.
“I don’t have enough work experience, let alone serious one, which means my CV doesn’t look very professional right now.”
“Hmm….”
“What?”
“I may have a solution to your problem.”
Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, his irises filling with hope.
“Do you remember Joshua? From the Social Relations department?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“He’s currently working at SVT Cat Cafe, he manages the paperwork and stuff. He could put in a few words for you, if you don’t mind.” Minghao sips the last of his soju.
“You should take the offer, Wonwoo! The cafe is really cute and you will love the kitties!” Seokmin grins excitedly.
“It’s…It sounds really good, to be honest. Almost too good to be true.” Wonwoo lets out a breath he was holding all this time.
“You can always check out their website and send your CV in their email address. They are still hiring people, so it’s a good chance.” 
“Hao, I don’t know what to say, seriously.” Wonwoo laughs nervously.
“People usually say thank you.” Seokmin jokes.
“One more word and I’ll shove the entire soju bottle in your mouth, I swear.”
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The view through the window is nothing short of idyllic, almost like the aesthetic images you see on Pinterest and Instagram. Maple leaves are dancing to the rhythm of the November winds, adding color to the dull concrete of the pavement, even if you know they won’t stay there for long.
You can’t say you’ve gotten used to the chilly weather, especially after your late vacation in Greece - it’s always too warm there, as you were warned beforehand. But you’re definitely glad you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles before the opening.
You hear tiny meows behind the mahogany counter and you walk in front of it, letting out a sigh when you pinpoint the source of the noises.
“Tofu, I swear to God.” You put the cup down and pick the white kitty in your arms. “I know you like roaming around but your cat hairs are invisible and I don’t want them in the beverages.”
The feline just tilts her head sideways and purrs in your arms, her green eyes staring at you, as if she is the most innocent creature in the universe (she is, most of the time).
“Your boba eyes aren’t working on me, missy. I know your true nature.”
Tofu responds with another meow, as if she’s asking you ‘who, me?’.
You go back and forth with the cat’s meows and purrs, utterly unaware of the presence of two men just a few feet away.
“Does that happen on a daily basis?” Wonwoo asks with a hushed voice.
“Yeah, with almost every single cat.” Joshua responds. “Although Tofu is her favorite.”
“I think I can see that.” 
You hear a couple of whispers behind you and you turn your attention to the two men.
“Oh, Joshua! You’re early today.” You comment. “And who is the gentleman next to you?”
“U-Uh, hi. I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” The man fixes his glasses nervously.
“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.” You stretch your arm, waiting for a handshake. 
“L-Likewise.” Wonwoo hesitantly shakes your hand.
“Wonwoo will be the photographer for our social media accounts and official website, starting today.” Joshua adds.
“Oh, that’s great news!” You exclaim. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time working here, Wonwoo.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Well, I’m afraid I have to take my leave now, business is calling.” Joshua announces after checking his watch. “Do not worry, Wonwoo. I’m leaving you in great hands. And paws.”
“See you later, Shua!” You bid your coworker farewell.
Tofu walks around Wonwoo’s legs and rubs herself all over him.
“I think she likes you.”
“You think so?” Wonwoo asks as he bends down to pet the cat, a fond smile on his face as the feline leans into his hand.
“She’s pretty picky with people, so seeing her so warm towards someone she has never seen before is pretty much a miracle.” You chuckle.
“Well, I should feel honored then.” He responds with a small smile.
“Would you like to order something? I could fix you a cup before the opening.”
“Um, could I have an iced americano then?”
“Wow, you’re brave.” You laugh in disbelief.
“What makes you say that?”
“You just ordered iced coffee in the middle of autumn. Does your throat have a death wish?” You put a few ice cubes in a plastic cup.
“Force of habit, I guess.” Wonwoo replies.
“That sounded very…moody.”
“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention…” He laces his fingers together and purses his lips together.
“You aren’t quite the extroverted one, are you?” You place the cup with the bitter liquid in front of him.
“Not really.” 
“It’s okay! You will be able to overcome it with time.” You try to reassure him.
“If you say so.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll go check out the rest of the cafe, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, feel free to explore a bit!” You smile at him while you wrap your apron around your waist.
“The coffee is really good, by the way.” 
“Thank you! It’s my job, after all.”
Wonwoo searches for his wallet in his backpack, but you stop him before he finds it.
“It’s on the house, no need to pay for it.”
“But-”
“Good luck today, Wonwoo.”
“T-Thanks. You too, Y/N.”
He looks at you one last time before he goes to the open space of the cafe to familiarize himself with his surroundings.
The day progresses without any problems - if anything, the regular customers have already started gossiping about Wonwoo, although most of it revolves around his God-like facial features.
You kinda wish you were serving the coffee instead of making it behind the counter. At least you would have been able to see Wonwoo up close in action with his camera. But you can’t say you haven’t been stealing glances through the window that separates the two spaces of the cafe.
“Eyeing the new guy, are we now?” One of your coworkers leans on the counter in an attempt to gossip.
“Oh, shut up, Chan.”
“What? I’m just asking!”
“Define asking?”
“For someone who claims to be the sunshine type in this business, you’re pretty snappy right now.” The ashen-haired man snickers.
“I’m not snappy! It’s rush hour and I’m trying to focus on my job.” You defend yourself.
“It’s rush hour for everyone here, you’re not special, Y/N.”
“Either way, you’re not getting anything out of me, Chan.” You place two porcelain cups filled with hot chocolate. “Now get these to table four.”
“Vibe killer.” Chan grumbles under his breath as he places the cups on the disk.
“I heard that, shortie!” 
“No cupcakes for you tomorrow!” He mocks you before disappearing into the outer space of the cafe.
You let out an exasperated sigh, followed by a short laugh and you return to the coffee machine, checking the orders you have received and start making them one by one.
While the cafe hasn’t been operating for long, you’ve been part of it since day one. You feel glad to be finally putting your barista working license to work and do something that you love dearly - blame your undying love for coffee and cats.
Chan was also one of the first employees who joined the team, but he’s on the service part and he’s damn good at it (even if he did break a couple of glasses on his first week). The regular patrons know him by name and he never fails to make them swoon over with just a single smile of his.
Chan is a sweetheart, but also a little shit when it comes to teasing you. Although he never once overstepped with teasing. But he always goes overboard with the treats he gets you from the bakery across the street. You still remember the six pieces of cinnamon rolls he got you two weeks ago and how persistent he was for you to eat them all (you ate them all eventually).
Late in the afternoon, your shift comes to an end and you hang your apron, starting to pack up your stuff. Wonwoo walks into the main area and starts dismantling his camera to put it back in its box.
“So, how did the first day go?” You attempt to strike conversation.
“It was….interesting, I suppose.” He shrugs.
“You sound a bit tired….”
“My social battery died about halfway through the shift, to be honest.” He admits with a heavy sigh. “At least the cats are sociable enough to let me pet them.”
“I think you should go home and get some rest.” You give him some advice.
“I don’t think rest is going to happen anytime soon, but thanks.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Goodnight and see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He bids you farewell and disappears through the doors of the cafe.
Shame, he’s cute but so uptight, you think. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now, so you leave the cafe, locking it shut and you walk towards the bus station to catch your ride back home.
A while later, you’re laying in your bed under the covers and decide to scroll through your socials for a while before falling asleep. You open Instagram and check your notifications, your eyes zooming on the purple circle around the profile picture of the cat cafe.
You click on it and a smile creeps on your face when you see Wonwoo’s picture on one of the Instagram stories, tagging Wonwoo’s account and welcoming him to the team. Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on the tag, leading you to his personal account. You frown a bit when you notice it’s private, but you don’t hesitate to send him a following request.
You hope he won’t think you’re a creep or something. I mean, he can definitely recognize you from your profile picture, right?
To your luck, a notification pops up on the top part of your screen and you squeal when you realize that Wonwoo has followed you back.
You waste zero time to check the pictures he has posted over the years and you quickly understand that he’s not the type to show off his face. But the one thing that’s prominent in his account is the astronomical amount of breathtaking pictures from the places he has visited throughout his life. You break into a giggling fit when you click on a post with his cat and you read a few comments from his friends, lovingly making fun of his ‘cat dad’ tendencies. Your heart swells when you see more photos of him playing with a black cat and petting him until said cat slaps his hands away.
Now you know why Tofu liked him at first sight.
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One week later.
Today is an off day for you and you plan to sleep until midday. But your boss has other plans.
You want to cuss at everything around you within a radius of ten kilometers when your phone rings and you rub your eyes to forcefully wake yourself up and answer the call.
“Good morning, Boss.” 
“Good morning, Y/N. I’m sorry for calling you so early, but you need to come as soon as you can at the cafe.”
“Why is that? I mean, it’s my day off today.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yoona just called me from the hospital, she had an accident yesterday.”
“What?!” You nearly jump out of the bed. “Is she okay?!”
“She’s out of harm's way, but her arm has suffered a fracture and she won’t be able to work for the next two months.”
“Oh my God….”
“We really need you here, Y/N.”
“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.” You say and end the call. 
You grumble and get out of the bed, your feet taking you to the bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Once you’re out, you go back to the bedroom and pick a hoodie with jeans to put on.
You walk out of your apartment and fasten your jacket around you, jogging to the bus station to catch your ride to work.
Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the cafe and you’re welcomed with a literal mess in the barista bench and a yelling Chan and a frustrated Wonwoo. 
“This isn’t how you’re supposed to turn it!”
“And what do you know about coffee machines?!”
“All corks are manufactured to fasten towards a certain direction!.”
“You’re just a photographer, not an engineer!”
“And you’re just a waiter, not a barista!”
“Whoa, whoa! Both of you, get away from the machines!” You yell at them and shoo them away to get to work. “Jesus, what the hell did you do here?!”
“We were just trying to make the orders!” Chan defends himself.
“You could have just told the customers that coffee won’t be served until the barista is here!”
“That’s what I suggested as well, but he said ‘he knows better’.” Wonwoo shrugs.
“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been here longer than you!” The shorter man retorts.
“Sometimes, it’s productive to listen to other people’s ideas, they might help you in ways you could never imagine.” You sigh as your hands fiddle with the machine and check the orders one by one.
“Finally, someone with common sense.” Wonwoo points towards you. “At least some people know how to think in here.” He walks away and picks up his camera again, resuming his initial tasks.
“I can’t believe you took his side!” Chan complains to you.
“I didn’t take his side, our opinions just happened to collide!” 
“Oh my God, you’re so into him, it actually sickens me.” The man fake gags.
“Can you stop bringing that up?! What if he listens?!” You whip your head around and glare at your friend.
“So you admit it! You have a crush on him!”
“Yeah I do. You can get your ‘detective of the year’ honorary badge now.” You groan.
“I- Ugh, whatever.”
“Look, Chan, I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 
 Chan lets out a deep breath to calm down as he picks up the serving disk.
“I know, Y/N. I hope the remaining apple pie in the box will lighten up your mood and fill in your empty stomach. It’s freshly baked.” 
“......You idiot.”
“I love you too, work wife.” He flashes you a grin and runs back to the customers.
You take a peek in the pastry box and the aroma of cinnamon and apples hits your nostrils like the early morning sunlight enters a cold room.
Your fingers don’t hesitate to dip in the box and pick a bite from the dessert, putting it in your mouth to eat it. You hum in approval when the sweet warmth envelopes your taste buds, giving you a much needed energy boost.
You return to your work at hand, completely unaware of Wonwoo’s eyes watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression overcoming his features. The tuxedo cat jumping on the shelf next to his head snaps him out of it, letting out a cranky meow at him.
“What is it, Taro?” He raises his hand to pet her fur.
Taro meows back as she flops down on the surface to stretch herself out for more pets.
“Jealous of not giving you enough attention?”
She meows even louder this time, as if she’s saying yes.
“I’m sorry, your Highness.” Wonwoo ruffles her belly. “A man has to work to get by.”
Taro narrows her eyes, as if she’s doubting his words.
“Okay fine, I was looking at her! What are you gonna do about it?”
The cat raises her front paws in the air and Wonwoo lets out an airy laugh, positioning his camera towards the long-haired feline to capture her in a few poses.
“Hope those pictures will be enough for you to stop blackmailing me.”
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Two weeks later.
God, these double shifts are fucking killing me, you mentally groan while sitting in one of the tables next to the cat trees. But it’s nice working early, since you get to come here and chill with the cats before opening time.
One of the resident cats jumps next to you, rubbing himself on your thigh.
“Good morning to you too, Dino Nugget. Did you sleep well?”
The orange cat jumps in your lap and sits in a loaf position without even asking you.
“Wow sir, it’s not even free real estate.” You laugh and run your hand over his fur.
He turns around and starts pawing at your hand, as if it’s a toy. He then opens his jaw to nibble at your finger, his teeth grazing your skin a bit harsher than usual.
“Ow, dude! That’s my hand, not your chew toy!” You yelp lightly.
You hear the clicking sound of a camera not far away from you and you snap your head to the source of the sound, your eyes falling on Wonwoo.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”
“No no, it’s okay! You were just doing your job.” You wave your hand.
“Do you….mind if I sit with you?” He asks sheepishly.
“Of course not! I was about to ask you, actually.” You smile.
Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you, smiling towards the orange cat.
“You seem to have loosened up a bit.”
“Yeah. But moments like those are also nice.” He says. “It can get….hectic sometimes and I don’t always deal well with pressure.”
“That’s exactly why the kitties are here! They have this magic ability to take away the negativity from you.” 
“Including this one?” He points towards Dino Nugget.
“Yeah. But he will try to bite you, no matter what.”
“Well, he’s an orange cat. What did you expect?” Wonwoo deadpans and you look at him with a shocked expression.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-”
You cut him off with a laughter loud enough to scare Dino Nugget off your lap.
“You’re so serious about cats, it’s actually funny!” You admit between laughs.
“Of course I’m serious about them! And you aren’t?”
“I am! I just didn’t expect that random orange cat fact, y’know.”
“Oh, okay.” Wonwoo purses his lips.
Silence befalls the outer space.
“Great, now I made things awkward again.” He sighs in defeat.
“No, you didn’t! It was just…. well…”
“Awkward behaviour.”
“.....Yeah, actually.”
“God, Seokmin is so fucking right.” Wonwoo curses at himself.
“Who’s Seokmin?”
“One of my best friends and the bane of my existence. He has been pestering me about my lack of social skills and stuff like that.”
“I would say he sounds almost like Chan.”
“Seokmin doesn’t buy me pastries every day.”
“Did you just emit jealousy, Wonwoo?”
“No, I’m just stating the facts. I’m 100% sure he will show up today with another box of fresh desserts.”
“You can always get a bite from them.” You nudge his shoulder.
“I don’t think he would like that.”
“Why are you so negative about Chan?”
“I’m not negative! He’s just… you guys seem really close with each other, that’s all.”
“Wonwoo, we’re just friends! The work husband and wife thing is just for funsies!” You reassure him and his features soften almost immediately.
“If you say so.”
“Wonwoo, I’m being serious.”
“I know. I don’t mean to call you a liar or something.”
“Okay…” You trail off with an uncertain look written over your face.
Another moment of silence passes until Wonwoo speaks up again.
“How are you handling the double shifts?”
“Terribly. My sleep schedule has been fucked up and I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it any time soon.” You slouch in your seat.
“Any updates about the recruitment?”
“Absolutely nothing so far. Unless a miracle happens.” You scoff.
“Can you teach me how to make coffee then?” Wonwoo asks you and your eyes shoot up in surprise.
“I- Uhm, yeah I can, but why?”
“I want to help you.”
“With making coffee?!”
“Yes. What’s so weird about it?” 
“N-Nothing! I just didn’t expect you to offer to help me.”
“The truth is that I haven’t been the best towards you, while you’ve been very warm and welcoming towards me since day one.” He admits while averting your gaze.
“But giving you extra work outside of your expertise is outrageous!”
“But I’m the one asking for it!” 
A loud chirping sound comes from behind you and you notice Henry shooting a death glare at you for disrupting his beauty sleep.
“Go to sleep, Henry.” You roll your eyes at the tabby cat and the feline yawns before stretching his hind legs.
“So? What do you think?” Wonwoo asks you again.
You look at him and you can see a fire being ignited in his eyes, as if he really wants to do that.
You check your watch and look between Wonwoo and the inner space of the cafe, solidifying your decision.
“Get up.” You pat his back.
“Does that mean yes?”
“It means that you need to pay a lot of attention and catch up quickly. We have less than an hour and a half until the cafe opens.” You walk into the cafe and towards the barista counter.
Wonwoo goes towards the cat trees, smiling brightly towards the felines.
“Watch me learn how to brew coffee and win her over, okay?”
Two sharp knocks on the window wall snap him back to reality and he looks at you furiously waving at him to come inside.
Wonwoo jogs back in the cafe, joining you behind the counter.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You put your hands on your waist.
“Uh, to watch you make coffee?”
“Rule number one: Never enter the barista area without lint-rolling your clothes first.” You point towards a shelf away from the counter, where a couple of lint rollers are.
“When did you even clean yourself up?” Wonwoo asks while running the roller over his hoodie and jeans.
“When you were talking to the cats.” You deadpan.
“Okay, my clothes are clean. Now what?”
“Rule number two: Always wear a barista apron while working behind your counter. We hang them right next to the window wall.”
He picks one of the aprons and puts the top strap around his neck, tying the lower one around his waist. You don’t miss the double loop and you wonder how slim his waist must be and how you hands would-
“What is rule number three?” His question cuts your train of thoughts and you try to get yourself together.
“Wash your hands thoroughly, of course.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The first steps of Wonwoo’s barista adventures go rather smoothly - he realizes he’s good at memorizing the various coffee blends. Handling the machine isn’t that much difficult, but it’s definitely not as easy as assembling his camera.
His eyes never leave your skilled hands, effortlessly maneuvering a glass under the machine, clicking the proper buttons to make a serve of espresso. 
“That looked so easy, but something tells me it won’t be as easy as I think it is.” Wonwoo laughs awkwardly.
“It’s actually not very hard. You just have to be careful with the amount of coffee you will put in the portafilter.” 
“Can I try now?”
“Don’t be impatient. You need to throw away the used shot and then purge the machine with water first.” You explain with a smile.
“Hm, okay. I think I can do that.” 
He takes out the portafilter and disposes of the used espresso shot. He cleans the portafilter separately while running the machine with only water. 
“Good job! It was smart to clean the portafilter during the machine run.” 
“Thought it would save me time.”
“And you thought well. This can be really useful during rush hour.”
“What’s next?”
“You dry the filter and fill it in with the desired amount of espresso. But remember, it needs to be even!”
“Got that.” He grabs the bag of ground coffee and takes a few spoonfuls of the blend and puts it in the clean filter, tapping it on the counter to flatten the surface. 
“Use the tamper to tamp it down and make it compact enough.” You remind him of the next step.
He wordlessly follows your tip and does exactly as you told him, locking the portafilter in the machine. He grabs a demitasse glass and places it under the machine and presses the button, watching the dark brown liquid flow into the cup.
“Congratulations, you just made your first cup of espresso!” You give him tiny claps and he smiles sheepishly. 
“Moment of truth.” He breathes out and hands you over the glass to taste the coffee he made. You take a sip and allow your taste buds to absorb the rich flavor.
“Not bad for the first time!” You hum in satisfaction.
“Thank God, I thought I would poison you or something.” Wonwoo lets out a heavy breath.
“Why are you so critical of yourself?”
“I have been classified as a kitchen hazard.”
“Well, this isn’t a kitchen, as you can see.” 
“But still-”
“No buts. You asked to learn how to make coffee and you have to accept that you’re going to make mistakes in the process.”
“I know, but it’s kinda scary.” 
“It was scary for you to work among so many people the first week, but you didn’t give up, did you?” You cross your arms over your chest.
“I am doing it for the cats, Y/N.”
“If that’s what makes your boat float, then who am I to disagree?” You laugh and clean the machine all over again.
The words die down in Wonwoo’s throat and he tries to find something to occupy himself with.
“You don’t have to do anything else around here now.” You tell him.
“Oh. Was that all?” His voice comes out almost disappointed.
“Only for now. It’s not like we have a lot of time left until customers start coming in and I would hate to throw you in the den of wolves right away. Besides, your friends seem to miss you already.” You turn your head to the window wall and Wonwoo follows suit, breaking out in laughter when he sees Dino Nugget scratching against the window.
“Oh my God, not him again.”
“Hey, don’t be mean to him!”
“Y/N, he literally bit you an hour ago.”
“He’s just an orange cat - or so you said. He’s also Chan’s fave.”
“Well too bad I already have a fave.” Wonwoo unties his apron and hangs it.
“Ooh, who is it?” You ask with curiosity.
“That’s my secret.”
“Okay mister secretive.” You scoff lightly.
Secretive. What a great word to describe me, Wonwoo thinks with a tight-lipped smile that fights to become a grin when he returns to the cafe cats, sitting down on one of the tables to fiddle with his camera.
He skims through the picture he has taken so far, stopping at the one where Dino Nugget is in your lap and you’re petting him with a loving smile on his face.
As if on cue, Tofu tip toes her way next to Wonwoo and puts her paw over his hand, raising her body on her hind legs.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” 
The feline purrs loudly and rubs her head on the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
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Hours later, at Joshua’s place.
“So you’re telling me that Wonwoo is smitten with Y/N?”
“Yeah! You have to trust me on this, Shua, I just know it!” Chan repeatedly taps his soju glass on the table.
“Okay, but why are you so pressed about it?”
“Because none of them are doing anything about it! And I hate mutual pining with a burning passion!”
“Sounds like you’re scared of losing your work wife to me.” Joshua smirks in his glass.
“I’m not scared! I just want to look out for her!”
“As her work husband?”
“And her bestie, duh!” 
“You’re so dramatic about this.”
“And you’re so nonchalant about this!”
“It’s their business, not mine, Chan!”
“And since when do you not care about gossip, Joshua?” The younger man raises his eyebrow.
“Don’t you see I’m making an effort to stay gossip-free?” Joshua whines in defeat. 
“And it’s failing miserably.”
The older man sighs and drinks a bit of his soju. “Yeah, it fucking did.”
“What, you know things I don’t?”
“Let’s just say that running the HR of an establishment grants you perks that someone like you doesn’t have.”
“Just tell me already! I wasn’t there today, come on!”
“Wonwoo and Y/N were both seen behind the barista counter today.”
“Okay….Maybe he was taking pics of her during the deed? Y’know, for promotion purposes?”
“You don’t understand - Y/N was showing him how to operate the coffee machine. He even managed to make a few batches of espresso.”
Chan chokes on alcohol and starts coughing loudly, smacking his chest.
“Whoa, whoa, breathe!” Joshua offers him a glass of water. “I didn’t mean to kill you!”
“Well - gah - I certainly felt like dying!” He gasps for breath. “But - How? When did things escalate so fast?!”
“From what I’ve heard, Wonwoo wanted to help Y/N until someone applies for the position and Boss agreed to it, as long as he’s under Y/N’s supervision.”
“Fuck this, I can help her too!”
“Bitch you don’t even know which way the corks turn!” Joshua laughs.
“Fuck you too, Hong!”
“You know, this could work in their favor. And yours, eventually.”
“How?”
“They will get to spend more time together and grow closer, you idiot!”
“Well yeah, but that also depends on whether one of the two will fuck up the process or not!” Chan retorts.
“Just….have some faith, okay?” Joshua tries to convince him.
“If you say so, I guess.”
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Two months later.
“Did you have a secret glow up or something?” Seokmin scans Wonwoo from the top to the bottom.
“You can just admit you were checking me out.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“As long as the right person isn’t checking you out, my eyes don’t matter, friend.”
“Oh my God, just say you want to talk about Y/N.”
“Yes I fucking do, because she’s clearly the reason you’ve changed!” Seokmin slams his hands on the table. “And for the better!”
“I don’t feel like I’ve undergone any drastic changes, though.” 
“That’s because you’re extremely harsh on yourself and refuse to see the truth!”
“And the truth is?”
Seokmin grunts in disappointment. “That you are head over heels for Y/N, you idiot.”
“And what if I am? I mean, she hasn’t really shown any real interest towards me.” Wonwoo shrugs.
“Dude, she has literally taken you under her wing and taught you how to make coffee! While she was swamped with work!”
“I just wanted to help her, she was doing double shifts for two weeks straight!”
“And I’m more than sure that she likes you even more because of that!”
“I was just trying to be nice, just like that.”
“Wonwoo, nobody is nice just like that. Everyone has their own agendas.” Seokmin smirks. “It all boils down to the benefits these agendas hold. And yours is going to benefit a lot of people.”
“Let’s say you’re right then. Why didn’t she just confess? She’s like, the definition of an extrovert.”
“Not everyone has the guts or lack of tact to just go to their crush and confess their feelings to them, you know.” 
“How can you be so sure that Y/N has a crush on me?”
“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Seokmin puts his palms together.
“Yes, dear therapist.” Wonwoo crosses his arms in front of his chest and mocks his friend.
“Does she know your coffee order?”
“Yeah, but she knows the coffee order of most regulars, it’s her job.”
“Fair point, but does she make coffee for you during work and accompany it with a snack?”
Wonwoo racks his brain for instances that match Seokmin’s question and to his surprise, he recalls a lot of them.
“You don’t even have to say anything, I can see the answer written all over your face.”
“Is that even enough to count as proof?”
“I’m not done yet.” Seokmin takes a sip of water to clear his throat. “Moving on to my next question - does she ask you about your day, how did you sleep and stuff like that?”
“Yeah, but that’s basic human decency.”
“Ugh, whatever. Have you ever complimented her appearance? Like, ‘Hey, that color looks very pretty on you!’ or something like that?”
“.....No.” Wonwoo replies with an awkward expression.
Seokmin rolls his eyes and drags his palms over his face dramatically.
“Why are you acting like this?! I’m not ignoring her on purpose!”
“Then why aren’t you doing anything?!”
“How can I do something when she’s so pretty and popular and a fucking sunshine and I’m….this?” Wonwoo vaguely gestures at himself.
Seokmin sighs audibly and rests his elbows on the table. “Can you tell me what’s really going on? Because I am not buying the shit you’ve said so far.”
Wonwoo’s expression turns bitter the moment Seokmin calls him out.
“There’s a contender?”
“Yeah, that fucking dipshit called Chan. He never misses a chance to show off that stupid smile of his to everyone and call himself Y/N’s ‘work husband’. He has the audacity to buy her snacks whenever their shifts overlap!” 
“Oh my God.” Seokmin bursts out in laughter.
“I’m sharing my problems with you and you’re laughing?”
“I am laughing because you’re green with jealousy!”
“I- I’m not jealous! I’m just stating the facts here! Nothing more and nothing less.”
“Wonwoo, it’s just you and me here, you can be honest.”
“I- Fine, I am jealous of that short bitch and the relationship he has with Y/N.”
“And that’s fine! But you also need to keep in mind that Y/N probably knows this Chan guy longer than she knows you, so it’s kind of natural to have a closer relationship with him.”
“You are not helping right now, Seok.”
Silence befalls the two friends as they pick on the leftovers of their food, contemplating their discussion.
“Something just popped into my head.” Seokmin speaks up again.
“It better not be another brain fart of yours.” Wonwoo grimaces.
“You should go to work tomorrow with your motorbike!”
“Okay. And?” 
“And….You should dress up a tad bit fancier for once.”
“Why should I even-”
“Shhhhhhh, just… Just do as I say, okay? Now zip it, I wasn’t finished yet.” Seokmin shushes him. “Let me think…. a white button-up and those dark blue wide leg jeans you have?”
“What about those?”
“You’re wearing them tomorrow. No questions asked.”
“Seokmin, it’s the middle of November, I’m gonna freeze to death.”
“You’re gonna wear a heavy jacket on top, you idiot. Besides, it won’t be that cold tomorrow.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Ever heard of weather forecasts?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not the one you want to fuck, let’s be real here.” Seokmin smirks and Wonwoo throws a fried potato at him. 
“I swear to God, if I end up making a fool of myself or catching a cold, you won’t hear from me ever again.” 
“Cool, does that mean I get to adopt Salem after your death?”
“Keep your grimy hands off my cat, bitch.”
“I will, because you’ll be alive and Y/N will be in your arms within the span of….twenty four hours. Maybe less, if you play your cards right.” Seokmin winks.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look scary when you have something specific in mind?”
“You can just admit you like it when I look scary because it makes me even sexier.”
“You’re fucking gross.”
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Wonwoo wakes up at 7:30 sharp, as always. But today is different - today is the day he finally confesses to you. Blame Seokmin’s idea, blame Chan’s behavior towards you, blame his own cowardice - whatever the reason is, Wonwoo is dead set on achieving his goal today.
He opens his closet and skims through his clothes until he finds the ones Seokmin specifically told him to wear.
He’s worried he might catch a cold with just a white button down and jeans, but there’s always his trusty fuzzy jacket - the cold never passes through that and it definitely won’t pass now, no matter what he’s wearing underneath.
The thought of wearing this particular outfit to work in order to impress you makes him feel stupid and giddy at the same time, as if he’s the nerdy highschooler in love with the pretty girl of the class. 
“How damn cliché.” He chuckles to himself and takes out the clothes to hang them in front of the closet. He goes to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick refreshment. It only takes him five minutes to wash his hair and body, wrapping a towel around his waist. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and nods in satisfaction. 
The gym has definitely paid off, he thinks and grabs the hair dryer to dry his hair. Once he’s done, he chooses to lightly run his fingers through them, not wanting to disrupt the curly form.
He returns to the bedroom to put on his clothes, humming in approval when he sees his reflection in the full body mirror. He spritzes his favorite perfume all over him and wears his horn-rimmed glasses to complete the look and wears his jacket on top to keep himself warm. 
He really doesn’t want to admit it, but Seokmin might be right on the money this time.
He’s about to leave when his eyes fall on the spare helmet he keeps in the corner of his closet and decides to take it with him - in case the plan works out, he wants to keep you safe while you’re riding with him on his bike.
He just hopes you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.
Salem walks in the bedroom and meows at Wonwoo to get his attention.
“Hi buddy. How do I look?”
The cat purrs loudly as he rubs himself on Wonwoo’s jeans.
“Thanks for the approval. I hope Y/N approves too.”
Salem meows again and paws on his dad’s leg.
“I’ll see you later, pal. Hopefully with some pretty company.”
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“So it’s official?” 
“Unfortunately, yes. Yoona has completed her rehab, but she has decided to move out of Seoul.” Your boss notifies you.
“I see…” You think and mixed feelings wash over you. You’re sad that Yoona is leaving so soon, but that also means you’ll get to spend even more time with Wonwoo behind the barista counter.
“But on the bright side, we managed to get a new employee!”
“W-What? When did that happen?”
“Just yesterday! I asked them if they could start soon and they will be here tomorrow morning.” Your boss grins widely. “Can I count on you to show them the ropes?”
“Oh, um, yeah, of course!” You form a fake smile.
“Great! You’ll get an extra this month for this, do not worry about that.”
“I appreciate it, Boss.” 
The lady walks away and your shoulders slouch in defeat, your dreams of watching Wonwoo’s forearms operate the coffee machine.
“A penny for your thoughts, wife?” Chan comes up to the counter.
“A penny might be too little for the amount of thoughts I have, Chan.”
“You don’t seem excited today.”
“Boss just told me that Yoona is leaving and we already have a replacement for her.” You frown.
“I know you’re sad you probably won’t see Yoona again, but at least you won’t have to work overtime again!” Chan tries to lift your mood.
“That’s not the only problem, Chan.”
“What is it then- Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Well, I mean…It’s not like you won’t see him ever again.”
“But it’s not the same!” 
“Oh my God, can you just confess already?! I’m tired of this rom-com!” Chan whines.
“You know what?” Your mouth falls open. “I might do it today.”
“Finally! But why is your mouth hanging like that?”
You point towards the door and Wonwoo who walks inside, looking like the male lead of a k-drama.
“Can you please close your mouth? A fly could enter and you could choke.” He snickers and you slap his arm.
“Good morning!” Wonwoo greets the two of you with a bright smile.
“Good morning Wonwoo! You seem to be in a good mood today.”
“Yeah, you could say that. By the way, I bought you some honey cupcakes.” He puts the pastry box on the counter and he walks next to you to wear his apron.
“What?! They told me they had run out today!” Chan is flabbergasted.
“Well, you weren’t lucky enough to catch the fresh batch, Channie.” Wonwoo smirks and the younger man grimaces and almost slams the water glasses on his disk.
“Who are you and what have you done to the Wonwoo I know?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“I am him. Just a bit elevated.” He puffs out his chest ever so slightly.
“Does the elevation come with a brand new motorbike?”
“Oh that? I already had it, but it was under repair for a good chunk of time.”
“But now you can ride it again, right?”
“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.”
“It looks really cool by the way.” 
“The motorbike?”
“Everything, actually.”
“Everything?” He tilts his head sideways.
You clear your throat. “By the way, Boss told me we’re getting a new barista tomorrow.” 
“Oh, I see.” He replies with a monotonous voice. “So no more sessions?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m sure you probably miss your camera.”
“It’s not like I wasn’t touching it at all. Besides, working with you is really fun.”
“Not anymore, since it’s the last day today.”
“Well then, we should make the most of it, right?” He looks at you with a swirling mix of warmth and seduction.
“B-Be careful with the cinnamon, you don’t want to overdo it.” You stammer over your words, turning your head away.
“Yes ma’am.” Wonwoo chuckles, not missing the light flush over your cheeks as he resumes his task.
As if your brains are connected to the same thinking bubble, they both repeat the same phrase over and over again.
This is going smoother than cream.
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“Is it legal to do this?” Wonwoo asks with uncertainty.
“Relax, we’re not gonna commit crimes. We can just say we stayed behind to clean up! Not that anyone will care that we made two cups of coffee.” You reassure him.
“But the machine isn’t on. How are you going to make coffee without it?”
You flash a warm smile. “This is exactly why I wanted it to be the two of us.”
You search under the counter for a few seconds and you pull out a black box that has been tightly sealed. You open it carefully and take out a coffee pot made of copper, a sealed bag of coffee blend and a mini gas heater.
“What is all this?” Wonwoo’s curiosity is piqued.
“This is something I learned during my vacation in Greece. I will show you how to make traditional Greek coffee.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he finds himself walking behind the counter and right next to you.
You open the sealed bag and the rich aroma quickly spreads in the air, satisfied hums echoing in the silent cafe.
“You get it now, don’t you?”
“It smells so good.”
“Wait until you actually taste it.” You giggle. 
“Judging from the tools, it must be hard to make it.”
“You’re not entirely wrong.” You fill the coffee pot with cold water. “It requires a lot of technique and “meraki”, as the locals usually call it.”
“What does it mean?”
“It’s the love and passion poured in the coffee brewing process. Even if it’s served as a product to a customer, it’s always created with fine motions and the hope of conveying said effort to the customer through a cup of Greek coffee.”
“This sounds more like a confession of love to me.” Wonwoo comments and you are happy the lighting is dim enough to hide the creeping blush on your cheeks.
“Well, that’s one way to put it.” You set the coffee pot on the table and take out two small porcelain cups from the box.
“That’s really pretty.”
“Thanks. I got them as a souvenir from a local shop, along with the briki.”
“The what?”
“That’s the greek word for the coffee pot! They use this specific one because it’s the best at storing the heat in its walls and allowing the coffee to roast slowly.”
“I stand corrected. This is a ritual of love, not just a confession.” He chuckles at your excitement.
That’s why I’m doing it, you four-eyed hot bastard! You mentally scream but keep your smiley facade on.
“Why did you get only two of these?” He keeps asking you questions.
“The old lady at the shop had made only two of those.” You explain. “But she did think I was buying it for my boyfriend and myself.” You end your sentence with an awkward laugh.
“I think that’s adorable, Y/N.” He rests his hand on his palm, almost 
“It would be, if I had a real boyfriend.”
“Well, you can always share a cup with your work husband.”
You raise your eyebrow. “Are you jealous, Wonwoo?”
“Me? No, not at all.” He brushes it off. “I just mentioned Chan because you’re really close to him.”
“Hmm, if you say so.” You shrug.
A beat of awkward silence passes and Wonwoo attempts to shift the mood to his favor.
“Can you guide me? Making the coffee, I mean.” He almost stutters.
“O-Oh, of course I can!” You slide behind him and watch him tighten his apron around his slender waist. Since when did he have such a slender waist?!
He picks up a teaspoon and puts four spoonfuls in the water, turning on the heat.
“The heat should be medium to low. Stir it only at the beginning and then let it heat through.”
He gives the coffee a few stirs to evenly spread the blend in the water, until it starts heating up.
“Be careful not to stir the coffee all the time, while it is roasting. Give a little bit more love and attention to create the right amount of kaimaki.” You give him gentle directions and he follows them to the last detail.
“What is kaimaki?” 
“It’s the creamy foam that forms on top of the coffee after brewing it.”
“It’s dark brown because of the blend?”
“Exactly. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” You give him a sly smile.
“I have a great teacher.” He reciprocates the smile and your heart skips a bit for the umpteenth time today.
Watching him brew such a difficult type of coffee with his sleeves rolled up and his deft hands carefully looking at the kaimaki makes the butterflies in your stomach dance like a hurricane.
Everything feels so intimate - from the cafe itself to the set of porcelain cups you bought as a memento from Greece, the words of the old lady who thought you bought them for a lover echoing in your head once again.
“I am turning the gas off now.” Wonwoo announces and you nod affirmatively. He does as he said and picks up the briki, but he accidentally touches the side of it and almost burns his hand.
“Fuck!”
“Wonwoo!” You gasp and immediately grasp his hands, knocking down the coffee and spilling it over the counter. “Are your hands okay?!”
“I’m okay, but-”
“Oh shit.” You curse and grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe the spilled coffee before it seeps into the wood.
He notices the coffee reaching up to the base of the cups and he picks them up, putting them in the sink to wash them. He washes and dries them thoroughly, followed by the copper coffee pot.
Hurried movements and a curse of strings are heard through the glass wall, the eyes of multiple cats staring at the two of you trying to clean up the mess you made.
After a few minutes, the counter looks as good as new, but both of you look frustrated and even more tired than before.
“Well, this was an ordeal.” You let out a huff as you throw the wasted paper towels in the bin and hang your apron next to the others.
“Y/N, I am really sorry.” Wonwoo sulks, not daring to look you in the eyes.
“Wonu, it’s okay! It was just an accident, accidents happen all the time here.” You try to make him feel better.
“But you were looking forward to this-”
“Wonwoo.” You stop him from completing his sentence. “It’s okay. I am not mad at you.” You gingerly hold his face with your hands, the rate of your heart reaching Mach speed because of the heat on his skin.
You realize you’re too close for comfort and retract your hands, scared you might have overstepped his boundaries. 
“Don’t.”
Wonwoo holds your wrists with his hands and gently places them on his chest. He can feel your fingertips almost trembling, the tension skyrocketing. 
“Wonu, I don’t understand-”
He gently holds the side of your neck and kisses you with the desire he was holding for the past two months. He lets go of his uncertainty and embraces his feelings for you, expressing them through this kiss.
It feels like you’re in a fever dream, every fiber of your existence is standing on the edge of inferno and you don’t want it to stop. Yet his mouth feels like an oasis - and you won’t let anything separate you from it.
You let out a whine when Wonwoo breaks the kiss, but you shudder when he rips his glasses off his face and lifts you up to put you on top of the counter.
“You have no idea how long I wanted to feel your touch on me, Y/N.” He rasps. “You’ve been plaguing my thoughts ever since I met you and I just couldn’t-”
You cut him off by pulling the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on him again, seizing control this time. You wrap your legs around his waist and jerk his body forward, colliding with your chest.
Your hands are deeply rooted in his permed locks, raking your nails on his scalp. He’s no better than you, his palms glued to your thighs.
“I’ve been feeling the exact same way, Wonu.” You moan against his mouth.
“God, please don’t stop calling me that.” 
“I had no intention of stopping, Wonu.”
He breaks the kiss again and pushes you on your back, planting his hands on each side of your head. 
“Please tell me you want this.” He begs you. “I want, need to touch you, take care of you, fucking worship you.” 
“Do it. Please do it, Wonu, I need you so bad.” 
He lets out a shaky breath and unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and bunches up your sweater to reveal the hem of your jeans and unbutton it with the same dexterity he uses his camera. He pulls them down and lets the fabric pool in front of his feet, his hands caressing your naked legs.
“Pretty.” He fiddles with the lacey details of your panties.
“Me or my underwear?” 
“Both.” 
“Smooth. But as much as I’d love you to sweet talk, I think you should do other things with your mouth.”
“Your wish is my command, sunshine.” 
Wonwoo puts your legs over his shoulders and tenderly traces his lips on your inner thighs, giving you a glance before sliding your panties to the side.
He gives your clit a quick peck and glides his tongue through your folds, all the way down to your entrance. And repeats the motion, again and again, speeding up with each drag of his wet muscle.
You drag your nails on the mahogany counter and bite your bottom lip to suppress your moans, but his mouth is being so kind and loving to your pussy that it makes you want to scream his name until the windows crash in tiny pieces from the volume of your voice.
He stops to take a breather, a glossy film coating his lips. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
“Never thought the shy photographer slash barista would be cursing after eating pussy like a God.” You laugh breathlessly.
“I can do much more, if you let me.” He suggests with a gaze full of desire, lips parted again and ready to engulf your clit again.
“I will, but not here.” You put your hand in his hair to stop him. “I don’t want to risk being seen by bypassing people.”
“I don’t know about people, but there are a bunch of cats staring from the glass wall.” Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you gasp when you turn your head towards the window and you see thirteen pairs of glowing cat eyes staring at the two of you.
“I love them but they are fucking scaring me right now, can we please get out of here?” You ask him.
“My place or yours?” Wonwoo picks up your jeans and gives them to you to put them on.
“Mine is a twenty-minute ride with the bus from here.” You say.
“My place it is, then.” Wonwoo grins as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Hope you aren’t scared of motorbikes.”
“Would you laugh if I said I’ve been thinking of being your backpack princess?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I brought an extra helmet just in case you wanted to be my backpack princess?”
“Who are you and what have you done to the cute and super shy Wonwoo?” You shoot him a playful glare.
“He’s still here. He just decided to act according to his desires and feelings.”
“I would like you to pass him my earnest thanks.”
“He accepts them with pleasure. Ready to go?” He offers you his hand.
“Yes sir.” You giggle and button your jeans, lacing your hand with his, as he guides you out of the cafe.
You make sure you turn off the lights and lock the doors before Wonwoo hands you over the extra helmet, checking up on whether you fastened it good enough. As soon as you settle on the bike behind him, he turns on the engine and grabs your arms, putting them around his waist, as if he’s telling you to hold on tight. You let out a squeal when he speeds away from the cafe, but the helmet around your head mutes your voice. Even though it’s your first time riding on a bike, you’re not scared at all. If anything, you find it very fun and kind of liberating.
Perhaps it’s the fact that Wonwoo reciprocated your feelings after two months of mutual pining.
You don’t even realize how fast the time passes when Wonwoo taps your hands to let go of him and get off the bike.
“W-We’re here already?” You ask dumbfounded as you take off the helmet.
“Baby, I wasn’t even speeding up.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine of the bike, taking off his own helmet. “But it’s for the better, I suppose.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it means you’re looking forward to what will happen within that house.” He smirks in your face and you grab his hand, pulling him towards the entrance.
“You’re so eager.” He’s trying to fish out his keys from his bag.
“I wonder whose fault is that.” You tease him.
“I intend to make it up to you, sweetheart.” He reassures you and finds the keys after a bit of searching, sliding them in the keyhole to unlock the door.
As soon as both of you are inside his house, you pin him on the door and kiss him hungrily, your hands sliding off your coat first and his jacket second, aiming for his buttoned shirt next.
“Bedroom, please.” Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you nod in agreement. He lifts you up in his arms, his arms under your thighs keeping you safe. 
You’re certain he’s gonna pin you down on the bed, but you’re proven wrong when he pins you on the nearest bedroom wall, grinding his clothed bulge right on your crotch.
“Didn’t peg you for the needy type.” You grip his shoulders to hold onto him tighter.
“How can I not be needy when I have the girl of my dreams right where I want her?” He groans and lets down your legs, hands flying to the button of your jeans. “Can I?”
“Fuck yes, please throw them away if you can.” You breathe heavily.
He eagerly unbuttons your jeans and drags them down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He then unbuttons his own jeans, dropping them down to his ankles with his boxers and kicking them away. He’s just one thrust away from entering you, but his mind goes blank.
“Wonwoo? What’s wrong?”
“I- Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” He curses under his breath.
“It’s okay. I am clean and on the pill, you can go raw.” You reassure him.
“Y/N, I’m serious.”
“I’m serious too! Are you clean?” 
“Yeah, I got tested two weeks ago and haven’t slept with someone for God knows how long.” He blurts out, cheeks flushed a cute pink.
“You’re so cute.” You stifle a laugh.
“You and your pussy are cuter than me, darling.” He laughs and hooks his forearms under your thighs to pry them open and keep them locked closed to your chest. The wall is cold against your back, but the rest of your body feels on fire.
You let out a whiny moan when Wonwoo starts by pushing the tip of his cock, taking his time to ease himself inside you and not hurt you. When he finally manages to fit his shaft in your hole, he throws his head back and his mouth falls open, deep moans vibrating from his chest.
“You’re- Oh god, Wonwoo, it feels so full.” You dig your nails in his shoulder blades, bunching up the dress shirt.
“Fuuuuck, I know.” He groans and pulls his hips away until only his tip is inside you, pushing back with a fluid thrust. A gasp escapes your lips when the thrust makes your body jerk up against the wall.
“Ah- Please do that again.” You beg, giving him your best pleading eyes.
“Shit, with pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip and thrusts inside you the same way, his eyes glued on your face to study your expressions.
He gets the green light when you nod in agreement and repeats the same thrusting pattern, full-bodied yet slow thrusts that rub your molten walls deliciously.
None of you are able to form coherent sentences, you only express yourselves through wanton moans. You feel your skin getting sticky with sweat and your orgasm starting to build up dangerously close to the climax.
“Are you close, sunshine?” He asks you between pants and you nod furiously.
“Hold on tight.” He instructs you and you claw on him like a rescued cat as he lifts you from the wall and walks over to the bed, gently placing you on your back on the mattress. 
“W-Wonu, please, I need to cum!” You hiccup and try to wrap your legs around his waist.
“I know, baby, I know.” He puts one knee on the mattress and angles your hips upwards to hit it deeper. He bends his torso down to touch your chest, his lips hovering over yours as his breath mingles with yours.
“Wanna cum together, sunshine?”
“Yes, yes, please!” 
“Where do you want me to cum?”
“Inside, fuck, do it inside!”
Wonwoo gasps loudly and loses his balance, crumbling on you at the same time his orgasm crashes upon him. His back shudders while his cock paints your walls white and your lips are busy kissing and biting his neck to muffle your own orgasmic noises. Your walls clench around his cock and you milk him dry until he has nothing else to give, breathing against his neck rapidly.
Both of you take some time and remain still, your breaths slowly regaining their normal rhythms. You can feel your body complaining, legs growing limp and your torso being crushed by Wonwoo’s weight.
“Wonu, you’re heavy…”
“Fuck, sorry.” He gently lifts himself off you and his cock slips out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum and his nearly spilling on the sheets. He’s fast enough to catch it with his fingers and push it back inside you, enjoying the way you shudder for him/
“Wonu!”
“I couldn’t help it, sunshine. Not when you look so pretty.” He sucks his fingers clean. “And taste so damn good.”
“Can you just…clean me up?”
“You didn’t even have to tell me.” 
He picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the tub as he lets the water from the tap run warm.
“Do you mind if I fall asleep in the process?” You mumble tiredly.
“Not at all, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” He presses a kiss on your temple.
“Thank you, Wonu.”
You end up falling asleep halfway through the bath, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. The lovesick grin on his face doesn’t falter until he’s done drying your hair and putting you in a pair of clean comfy clothes - his clothes.
As soon as you’re under the bedsheets, you cling onto him in your sleep, chest rising and falling peacefully in his arms.
Wonwoo can’t believe this is real, even if he can touch your face and hug you closer to his body. 
There is one thing coursing through his mind before drifting off to sleep - Seokmin was right after all.
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Your deep slumber is disturbed by the ringtone of your phone and you grumble in your sleep to find the strength and get up to search for your phone. You nearly fall down on your knees when you try to stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed at the last minute to stabilize yourself.
“Nngh……Baby? What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks with a scratchy voice, in a similar state as you.
“Someone is calling me and I don’t know where the hell my phone is!” You curse out loud as you keep searching under the pile of clothes.
Your phone stops ringing and you plop down on the floor dramatically. 
“Y/N, it was just a phone call.” Wonwoo tries to reassure you as he gets out of bed.
“But what if it was something important?”
“Then whoever it was, they will probably call again.”
Suddenly, it hits you.
“Wonwoo, what time is it?” You ask him with fear in your eyes.
“I don’t know, let me check real quick.” He walks back to his nightstand and opens the screen of his phone, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing from his mouth.
“Wonwoo?”
“I don’t want you to panic, but it’s 10AM.” He deadpans.
“Fuck, I knew it! We’re fucking late to work!” You spring up on your feet and pick up your clothes, making a beeline for the bathroom.
You splash water over your face and almost squeal when you notice the vibrant purple marks on your neck and collarbones, mortified at the thought of someone seeing them.
“Baby, are you good there?” Wonwoo yells from the bedroom.
“No! I need a fucking turtleneck!” You yell back and stomp your way back to the bedroom.
“Okay but why?” He peeks his head from the closet and takes a better look at your torso. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He purses his lips and picks a cream colored turtleneck, giving it to you.
“God, I love you so much.” You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately put it on, running back to the bathroom. The scent of cedar and peaches gives you a hard time to focus on making your hair look presentable, but you resist the urge to duck your nose under the soft fabric.
Wonwoo does a double take on himself and decides to go with a black turtleneck, his eyes shying away from the marks you left on him last night. However, part of him feels very smug about them, knowing he’s gonna be walking in the cafe with your marks of claim all over his body.
“Come on, stop dwindling, we’re gonna be even more late!” You appear in front of him again and pull on his sleeve repeatedly.
“Oh my God, stop pulling me!” He laughs at your desperation and follows you to the living room, picking up his coat from yesterday.
About half an hour after riding on Wonwoo’s motorbike and some annoying traffic, you both make it safely into the cafe. You’re welcomed by a very frustrated Chan and the new barista intern, struggling with the coffee machine.
“And here I thought you actually ditched work today.” He gives you a smile full of irony.
“I’m really sorry, Chan, I slept through my alarm clock. I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You defend yourself with a lie while fastening your apron to get to work.
“Whatever you say.” He sighs. “Just…get to work, I’m so fucking done with this monstrosity.”
You quickly greet the new intern with a warm smile and turn your back on the two men to focus on the training at hand.
Wonwoo begins to put his camera together, checking his equipment. He can feel Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on him.
“For how long are you going to keep burning holes in my back?” The older man asks.
“Until you admit that you spent the night with Y/N.” Chan crosses his arms in front of his chest.
Wonwoo puts his camera down and straightens his back, now towering over the guy.
“Yeah, I did. Want me to tell you how exactly we spent our night?” 
“No need, I was able to put two and two together when I came here and cleaned up the entire place.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose.
“My patience ran thin and so did hers, I guess you already know how things went down.” Wonwoo smirks.
“Well it was about fucking time, dude.” Chan pats Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You were blueballing the poor girl for two months now and I was starting to feel that way as well.” 
Chan goes to the outer space of the cafe, leaving Wonwoo utterly stunned. The younger man gets a few orders from the early customers and makes a beeline for the window seats of the cats, bypassing the table Joshua is sitting on.
“I am so sorry, darlings. I hope none of you were traumatized from whatever vulgarities you witnessed last night.” He pets them one by one, cooing at them as if they were his own kids.
“Why are you trying to console the cats?” The older man asks.
“If I were to tell you, you’d need consolation as well.” 
“Do I smell work gossip?”
“More like work porn.”
Joshua puts his hand over his mouth like a gossip girl, his eyes shining like those of an imp.
“Don’t tell me-”
“Yeah, they did.”
“Damn, I gotta give it to your intuition.”
“How about giving me a fucking break already?!” Chan whispers in frustration.
“What, you saw cum on the floor or something?” Joshua jokes, but the waiter’s expression is stone-cold.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Fucking try me, Shua.”
He turns his head around and watches you and Wonwoo giggling together, his face turning back to his friend.
“At least your work wife is happy now.”
Chan smiles gently as he leans against the wall.
“That she definitely is.”
2K notes · View notes
gureumz · 9 months
Text
liar, sweetheart
rating: explicit
member: sunghoon
premise: your best friend, benj, is a twin but he's the complete opposite of his brother. his brother, sunghoon, is all kinds of sleazy, or so you've heard. knowing about your big fat crush on your best friend, this sorry excuse of a twin brother agrees to put in a good word, in exchange for a good fuck, of course.
notes: fem!reader, dom!sunghoon, sort of rivals-to-lovers, unprotected sex, slight breeding, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation, praise, clothed sex, accidental voyeurism, sunghoon is two people here lmao, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: fifth entry for my 1k follower special! we're in the endgame now, people. one last after this and my 1k event is ending. how did that happen :') anyways, i really got back into my writing groove for this one so i hope you all enjoy!
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"what do you think of sunghoon?"
your ears perk up as you turn your head to give your best friend a look.
oh, benj. sweet, sweet benjamin park.
awkward but in a cute, boyish sort of way, tall almost to the point of gangly, but handsome in the way supermodels were.
benj is a figure skater, a very good one at that. he's at the level where if he did well enough, he'd be international news tomorrow. you've seen him skate and to you, it was nothing short of mesmerizing.
oh, you. clueless, utterly clueless you.
honestly, it was all so predictable.
a situation right out of booktok's latest favorite friends-to-lovers novel by some up-and-coming author. the comfortable silence, the memorized starbucks orders, the pining, oh, the pining. booktok lives for the pining.
sitting here in benj's room as he casually games, fingers lazily moving over his ps5 controller, you realize just how utterly shortsighted you were.
of course you'd fall in love with your best friend. it's law. it's fate. a canon event, as the kids say.
but, you're getting out of topic here. right now, benj is asking you about his twin brother.
"what do you mean?" you ask, swiveling around in the office chair by benj's desk. benj is perched on his bed, leaned up against his headboard as he plays.
"like...what do you think of him...?" benj repeats, as if in an attempt to rephrase his question but ultimately failing.
your forehead creases even more.
"you have to be more specific than that," you chuckle.
benj pauses the game, setting the controller down. he shifts on his side so he can get a better look at you.
"do you like him?" benj deadpans, raising an eyebrow.
you nearly choke on your own saliva.
sunghoon. benj's twin brother.
the younger twin, as benj always reminded. your thoughts drift to the other park brother, complete in all his dark clothes and equally dark hair.
while benj afforded himself the preference of dying his hair an icy blonde, sunghoon kept his own hair jet black. benj wore sweaters and cardigans and loose-fitting shirts, but sunghoon wore button-ups, with the first three buttons popped open, paired with jeans ripped to the heavens.
benj is the shining star in this family, a star figure skater, an overachiever. sunghoon battles his way around ice hockey, dabbles in dance, keeps his triumphs to himself.
benj is the sun, while sunghoon is the moon. yin and yang.
you get the picture.
oh, and sunghoon is a complete asshole. benj is not.
"he's okay," you finally answer. benj looks at you like he's waiting for more.
"that's it?" benj asks after a second.
you roll your eyes. "i don't know what you want me to say. i barely talk to him since i spend most of my time with you."
benj cocks his head to the side, as if curious.
"weird," he says. "he asks about you all the time."
this piques your interest.
"he does?"
benj shrugs, returning his attention to the tv. he picks the forgotten controller back up, resuming his game.
"yeah. asks if and when you'll be coming over," benj explains. he shoots you a quick side glance.
"you're not hooking up behind my back, are you?"
you physically recoil at benj's words, the idea initially repulsive to you.
"absolutely not," you practically spit out. "he's not my type."
benj bursts out laughing, his eyes forming cute crescents as he does so.
"you basically just called me ugly with that," benj points out, eyes unmoving from the tv screen.
you stutter for a second. "that's not what i meant. it's just—well we're not close, at least not like how we are and—"
you sigh, cutting yourself off. you've embarrassed yourself enough, you think.
benj shakes his head, one side of his mouth turning up in a half-smile.
"okay, no need to explain, ______. i was just asking," benj says. "but the way you're so defensive about it is raising a few questions, not gonna lie."
you rub exasperatedly at your temples.
"i am not sleeping with your brother."
---
"hey."
you nearly jump a foot back in surprise. looking up, you're met with the stern gaze of sunghoon, black hair falling over his eyes. he's wearing one of those compression shirts, ridiculously tight against his toned upper body.
you turn away before it gets weird.
"oh, sorry, is benj home?" you ask, peeking momentarily past sunghoon.
"he's at training," sunghoon informs. "didn't he tell you?"
you glance at your watch. "he said he'd be done by now."
sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "well, he's not."
your mouth falls open, your mind momentarily going blank. you shift your expression to one of stony resolve.
"you know what, i'll just come back. sorry to bother you," you say, already turning away.
"i didn't tell you to leave, did i?"
you turn back, giving sunghoon a look. you stare hard, noticing just how much he resembles benj. but some things differ, naturally.
an extra beauty mark. the slightly sharper upturn of his nose. the seemingly eternal frown on his face.
"you can come in," sunghoon says with a sigh, stepping aside. you duck your head as you cross the threshold.
"and don't be so uptight next time," he adds. you can practically hear the smirk as he says this.
you glare daggers at sunghoon and he's still smiling as he closes the door behind him. he crosses his arms and studies you.
he leans back against the door and you straighten yourself up as much as you could.
"what's your problem, sunghoon?" you ask, planting your hands on your hips.
"what's yours?" sunghoon replies. you feel a twinge of annoyance spark in your chest.
"nothing," you emphasize. "and that's exactly it. i don't have a problem but if you don't stop acting like that, i might just have one soon enough."
"acting like what?" sunghoon questions, tilting his head to the side.
you swallow. you rack your brain for something to say, and don't be mistaken, you have a lot, but it's like your train of thought has halted altogether.
"like...that," you say, gesticulating vaguely with your hands.
sunghoon laughs, a hand coming up to run through his hair. you watch him, observe as his muscles shift beneath that stupidly tight, stupidly attractive shirt.
...what?
"are you this jumpy with my brother?" sunghoon asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants.
"i don't follow," you say, taking a step back. being close to sunghoon seems suffocating now, as if the air is stuffy with something you can't quite put your finger on.
"of course, you don't," sunghoon mutters under his breath.
it takes everything in you not to punch him square in the jaw.
"you like benj, don't you?" it's more of a statement rather than a question and it's so unexpected to you, you nearly stumble back in surprise.
"what?" is all you can say.
sunghoon snorts as if your confusion is oh-so-amusing.
"no need to deny it, _______," sunghoon reassures. "everyone with one working eye can see it."
you decide to stay silent. maybe if you don't react, sunghoon would drop the subject.
sunghoon seems satisfied with himself as he grins, nodding to himself, probably mentally patting himself on the back for his 'detective work'. he brushes past you and you get a whiff of his perfume and what you can assume is his body wash.
fresh. powdery. clean.
you wait a second before you hear his bedroom door close.
you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.
your phone vibrates with a notification and you're relieved to see it's a message from benj.
'are you at my place yet? i'll be home in a few. sunghoon will let you in. sorry, love u!'
you smile to yourself as you lock your phone.
---
you couldn't stop thinking about it.
were you really that obvious? or is it just some twin telepathy that's why sunghoon could tell? could benj tell?
you sit up, careful not to jostle anything in your immediate vicinity. you peer up at benj's sleeping figure from where you're situated on his spare mattress, positioned on the floor right next to his bed.
he seems to be deep in slumber, shoulders rising and falling steadily. you swallow, realizing how parched your throat has gotten. you get up on your feet, treading carefully around benj's room to get to the door.
you exit, walking down the hallway of the parks' penthouse apartment, trying to make as minimal sound as you can. you round the corner to where you know the kitchen is and you immediately stop in your tracks.
"shit—" you curse, startled by the figure standing by the kitchen island.
your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and you realize you've come face to face with sunghoon.
"hi, _______," sunghoon greets. "fancy seeing you here."
you huff, approaching the refrigerator. "ha ha. you scared the shit out of me."
you hear sunghoon laugh quietly from behind you.
you take the ice-cold pitcher out of the fridge, setting it on the counter before walking over to the cupboards where the parks keep their glasses.
you can feel sunghoon watching you, aware of the burning attention. you can feel your neck prickle with it.
you pull the cupboard door open and it's only now that you realize you can barely see. afraid to just reach in and possibly knock over and break something, you pause, willing your vision to adjust even more to the low lighting.
"hey, can you turn on the—"
your words are cut off when you feel warmth press up against your back. you flinch, watching with wide eyes as sunghoon's arm braces itself against the countertop in front of you. he reaches over you, his breath tickling the top of your head.
you shiver involuntarily.
you turn to face him, pressing yourself fully against the granite behind you. sunghoon pulls a glass down from the cupboard, handing it to you. his arm is still planted firmly to your side, half caging you in.
"here," sunghoon says.
you can just make out his face in the low light, his scent invading your senses once more. you take the glass from him and he steps away, freeing you.
you wordlessly return to the center of the kitchen, pouring yourself the water you desperately need. and boy, do you need it.
you gulp down mouthfuls of it, unsure why your legs are suddenly weak, your knees threatening to give out.
"hey," sunghoon calls out. you pause, turning to where he's still standing by the cupboards.
he has the same easy stance he had earlier in the day. leaned back, arms crossed. even in the dark, you can feel him staring.
"what?" it comes out a little more harshly than you'd like and you wince.
"do you hate me or something?" sunghoon asks brusquely.
once again, you find yourself rendered speechless by sunghoon.
"no," you answer simply, setting your glass down.
"then why don't you hang out with me like you do with benj?" sunghoon asks, approaching you.
"because benj is my best friend, you're not," you respond. sunghoon stops right in front of you and you have to crane your neck to meet where you think his eyes are.
"your best friend that you're in love with," sunghoon says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"that's not true," you deny.
sunghoon snickers. "sure, keep lying to yourself, sweetheart."
you inhale at the term of endearment.
"you know, i never understood why you got closer to him but you stopped spending time with me altogether," sunghoon muses. "the three of us grew up together, remember?"
you do.
the afternoons spent in the local playground. you and benj sat on the swings while sunghoon pushed. you and sunghoon on the seesaw while benj attempted to balance in the middle (much to their mother's horror). the twins hiding while you played seeker.
a smile tugs at your lips at the memory. and then it falters just as quick.
"you were the one who stopped hanging out with us," you say, a little accusatory in the way you did. "you had newer ice hockey friends and when middle school rolled around, you decided those girls were worth your time more than us."
'more than me,' is what you wanted to say. but you swallow it down.
sunghoon stays silent at this. after what you estimate is a minute, he sighs.
"sorry," is all he says.
you shake your head. "it's okay, we all drift apart from our childhood friends at one point."
sunghoon steps even closer. you can feel him now. a strange crackle of electricity tickles your fingertips.
"that's not the case with you and benj," sunghoon observes.
it's your turn to say nothing.
"i can help you," sunghoon suggests. your head snaps up as you try to process sunghoon's words.
you can see him now, illuminated by the faint hallway lights behind you. sunghoon's looking at you, expression unreadable.
"help me?" you parrot back. sunghoon nods.
"i can help you get with benj, if that's what you want. plant the seeds, so to speak," sunghoon explains. "he is my twin brother, after all."
you consider this for a moment. there's no denying the giddy feeling you get in benj's presence. the comfort it gives you when you spend the whole day together. the butterflies in your stomach when he beams at you, all bright and shining.
this should be an offer you can't refuse.
"i just have one thing to ask of you," sunghoon cuts through your thoughts.
"what?" you ask.
sunghoon pauses, turning away as if gathering his own words.
"do you ever feel that there's this weird...thing between us?" sunghoon asks.
your whole body seems to stiffen. your hands turn cold, clammy.
"like tension," sunghoon elaborates. "something you can't really explain."
"no," you answer a little too quickly.
sunghoon chuckles. "there you go again, lying."
you avoid sunghoon's gaze, staring hard at a spot behind him where his shadow dances against the cabinets.
"if you agree to...try this thing with me just this once, i'll help you get together with benj," sunghoon concludes, bending lower so he's in your line of sight.
unable to avoid him any longer, you look into sunghoon's eyes. he's much clearer now, your eyes well-adjusted to the dark. he's looking at you, expression soft, unlike the other times you've come face-to-face with him.
"so, you're offering to be my wingman, but only if i let you fuck me?" you string your words out carefully. "is that it?"
sunghoon sighs, shrugging. "basically, yeah. sounds fucking weird but you can always say no."
"it is weird," you confirm. you cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at sunghoon.
"can't we just skip the part where we fuck and go straight to the part where you help me?"
sunghoon grins down at you, dipping even lower so you're eye level with him.
"it's as if you don't know me at all, _______," sunghoon says lowly. "that hardly seems fair, sweetheart."
you grit your teeth.
"besides, do you want to skip the part where we fuck?" sunghoon presses on the last word, holding your gaze as he said it. you feel a warmth spread all over your body.
you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. your mind is at war with itself, warning you that this is a bad idea. if you get together with benj after, what then? take the secret that you fucked his brother to your grave?
"just this once, and when we're done, you'll help me, correct?" you say, raising a brow at sunghoon.
sunghoon nods. "exactly."
you pause. you want it. what 'it' is, you're not so sure.
you reach your hand out.
"deal."
sunghoon grasps your hand in his, squeezing firmly. his fingers envelop yours easily, your palm almost cartoonishly smaller than his.
and he's warm. so warm.
your eyes meet his and it's like something snaps.
you feel sunghoon grasp at your waist and your own arms come flying up to wrap around sunghoon's neck. he kisses you fervently, harshly, desperately. you respond with the same enthusiasm, pulling him closer to you.
sunghoon pushes you against the fridge, the contents rattling within. you gasp as the cold metal presses through your thin pajamas, but sunghoon drinks in any noise from you with his mouth.
"fuck," sunghoon mutters softly.
"god, ______," sunghoon continues, hands splayed against your back, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck.
"sunghoon," you whisper, clutching onto his wide frame. you mewl softly when you feel him suckle on a spot just above your collarbone.
you pull sunghoon away from your neck, guiding his face back to level with yours. you kiss him some more, a strange feeling bubbling within you.
it's making you want more of sunghoon, as if your whole being craved him.
you hear a soft click of a door opening somewhere down the hall and your eyes fly open, your hands forcing sunghoon off you. he jumps back as well, a panicked look on his face.
footsteps echo in the hallway and a voice immediately follows after.
"_______?"
benj. it's benj. his voice is thick with sleep and you look over at sunghoon, eyes wide with alarm.
"i-i'm in the kitchen," you call out. "just needed a drink."
you rush out of the kitchen and into the hall, running right into benj's firm chest. he catches you before you stumble and he holds you at arm's length, looking at you through half-closed eyes.
"there you are," benj says with a laugh.
you let out a nervous giggle of your own, gently pushing benj back towards his room.
"i'm right here," you assure him. benj rambles on about hearing noises from his room and you quickly dismiss it as you just messing around in their kitchen.
just as you herd benj back into his room, you look back down the hall and see sunghoon sauntering casually towards his own door. he catches your eye and winks, stepping quietly into his room.
---
"i know what you were doing last night."
you stop dead in your tracks, hand frozen in midair just as you're unwrapping your hair from your towel.
you had just stepped out of the bathroom adjacent to benj's room, dressed in his shirt and your shorts from yesterday. it's the morning after your little tryst with sunghoon and you were nearly a hundred percent sure you had successfully lied your way out of an explanation to benj.
it turns out, you haven't.
"you were hooking up with sunghoon, weren't you?" benj says, looking at you expectantly.
you put on your best attempt at an appalled expression, eyes wide an lips turning down into a frown.
"no, i wasn't," you muster up with as much disgust as you can.
benj just laughs. "i've lived here for nearly half my life, ____. i know the sounds of this house better than you."
"well, you thought wrong," you argue, busying yourself with brushing through your hair. you keep your eyes trained on the full body mirror in front of you, setting your sight on your own face.
benj comes up behind you, looking at you as if he could see right through you.
you think maybe he can.
"you're such a bad liar," benj accuses.
"i would never hook up with your brother," you protest, raking through your hair aggressively. you're getting antsy and you pray that benj would just drop the subject.
"why not?" benj questions.
you look at his reflection, scowling. "i don't like him like that, benj."
"hooking up with him would feel like hooking up with you," you add. 'a red herring, yes,' you think. 'distract him, make him feel weird for even asking.'
benj gives you a look. "what's so bad about that?"
you stare open-mouthed at benj. a million thoughts are flying through your head and something pinches at your chest.
"you're my best friend, benj," you try to reason. "that's weird."
"and hooking up with my brother isn't?"
you groan, letting your head fall into your hands.
"i didn't hook up with sunghoon!"
benj nods, pouting as if not fully convinced. "okay, whatever you say."
he steps out through the door, leaving you in his eerily quiet room.
you sigh, turning back to your reflection.
"not yet," you whisper to yourself.
---
"aren't you leaving yet?"
you look up from your phone and you're met with sunghoon peeking through benj's door. his hair is damp and you can smell his aftershave from where you're sprawled out on benj's bed.
"nope," you reply curtly, turning back to your phone.
"you've been here two days," sunghoon points out, stepping into the room. you ignore the jolt of excitement in your gut.
"i'll leave once benj comes back from training," you say.
"oh sure, then the two of you will get caught up again in whatever nerd things you do, and then it's the evening and you'll stay another night, walking around in your skimpy pajamas," sunghoon rambles sarcastically.
you narrow your eyes him as you sit up. "what's wrong with my pajamas?"
"they make me impossibly hard, _______. that's what's wrong," sunghoon admits, expression unchanging.
your eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. "that down bad, huh?"
"nah," sunghoon replies nonchalantly.
"whatever you say, sweetheart," you say, throwing the pet name back at sunghoon.
sunghoon lets his eyes travel over your body, expression darkening, and you feel every hair on your skin stand up under his unrelenting gaze. you shift around, unsure of what to do with sunghoon's undivided attention.
you watch as sunghoon approaches, his jaw set as he pauses right before benj's bed. he meets your eyes and before you know it, sunghoon is crawling over you, stopping once he has you caged in between his arms.
"you're seriously not thinking of fucking me on your twin brother's bed, are you?" you whisper. you're nearly nose to nose with sunghoon now.
"i am," sunghoon answers simply before kissing you, effectively driving you back against the plush mattress.
the same bubbling feeling reappears and you grab at any part of sunghoon that you can, hooking your legs around his waist. he grunts against your mouth and you feel him harden against your core.
"this is my shirt by the way," sunghoon grins against your lips. "benj stole it from me a while back."
you moan at the thought of it. you feel sunghoon reach under your—his—shirt, chuckling when he feels the absence of a bra. he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading as he continues his assault on your lips.
"lose this," sunghoon commands, his other hand tugging your shorts down harshly. you oblige, reaching down to discard the piece of clothing along with your underwear.
"but keep this on," sunghoon adds as he kisses along your jaw, referring to the large shirt swallowing your frame.
you kick off your shorts and underwear the same time sunghoon pulls back to undo his own joggers. he throws them off to the side unceremoniously before hovering back over you, his eyes scanning every feature of your face.
"if you're so in love with benj, why are you about to sleep with me on his bed?" sunghoon asks, his fingers trailing down delicately from your chest down to your stomach. you flinch, fighting the urge to curl into yourself at the ticklish feeling.
sunghoon continues down towards the space between your legs, wasting no time swiping through your folds. you gasp, back arching as sunghoon rubs up and down, finger circling teasingly around your entrance.
"you talk too much," you counter, voice shaking. "are you gonna fuck my brains out or what?"
sunghoon sneers, shoving two fingers in without warning. you yelp, turning to bury your face in benj's pillow. it smells like him, but you barely register that, seeing as his twin's fingers are knuckles deep in you.
"go on, run your mouth like you always do, slut," sunghoon taunts. you involuntarily clench down at his use of such a degrading word and sunghoon notices, of course, his mouth curling into a smirk.
"should have known you were into that," sunghoon wonders out loud. he moves his fingers in and out of you, pumping his thick digits into your wanting hole.
you clamp a hand down on your mouth, suppressing every noise that threatens to escape you.
"let me hear you, pretty, come on," sunghoon coos, prying your hand off your face. "it's just the two of us here."
you bite your lip but let yourself be heard as sunghoon continues to fuck you with his fingers. he curls them up inside you and you thrash about, the pressure building within your abdomen.
"gonna cum already? you're so fucking easy," sunghoon comments, leveling his face with your cunt. he blows softly against your clit and you cry out in pleasure.
you feel the wet heat of his tongue press against your bundle of nerves and coupled with sunghoon's fingers, you can't help but curse loudly at the sensations.
"shit, sunghoon!" you whine. "yes, just like that, please."
sunghoon wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and running his tongue over it alternately. you feel like you're about to lose your mind. you're seconds away from orgasm and you barely have any time to warn sunghoon.
"i'm gonna cum, sunghoon i'm gonna—"
you're cut short by your own loud moans as you feel yourself come undone, your whole body seizing up. you grip at the sheets beneath you with one hand while the other reaches down to thread through sunghoon's hair. you hear him grunt against your pussy as you tug at the strands.
eventually, you relax, easing up on sunghoon's hair. he comes up to face you, his mouth glistening with your release. he licks his lips, smirking at the way you watch him with awe.
"you still with me?" sunghoon asks with a raise of his brow. you nod weakly, hands coming up to cup at his face.
sunghoon leans down to kiss you tenderly and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. he moves his lips against yours slowly, savoring each pass of your tongue over each other's, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away.
you peek down and see that sunghoon's cock stands red and angry against the black of his shirt.
"fuck me raw," you say before you can stop yourself.
sunghoon's eyebrows shoot up.
"are you sure?" he asks.
you nod, angling your hips up. restraint be damned, you want sunghoon and you want him now.
sunghoon chews down on his bottom lip as he lines himself up against your dripping hole. he coats his tip with your juices and you throw your head back as he teases you with his leaking cock.
"please," you whisper.
sunghoon presses a kiss on your cheek. "i got you, angel."
you feel him push in, stretching you out more than you anticipated. your mouth falls open in a silent moan as sunghoon slowly but surely bottoms out. your heart races and your mind loses all coherent thought. all you can register is that sunghoon feels like he's splitting you open with his dick.
"fuuuuck," sunghoon drawls into your ear.
"so fucking tight and so fucking good," he continues, bracing himself on either side of you. he moves his hips experimentally, pulling out then thrusting in and the two of you moan at the same time.
"give it to me," you pant, pulling sunghoon closer. "don't you dare hold back."
sunghoon grunts as he snaps his hips forward. you whine and moan like a whore as sunghoon fucks into you with reckless abandon. he keeps his eyes on your face, observing every expression that passes over your features.
"look at me," sunghoon orders as you let your eyes flutter close. "i said, look at me."
you obey, peering up at sunghoon through your lashes. he grabs your jaw as he hammers even harder into you. you cry out brokenly as you feel him deep within you. he's like a man starved, eyes wild as he takes you like this. rough and uncaring and oh so desperate.
"waited so long for this," sunghoon grunts. "to have you moaning and begging under me."
you feel tears prickle in your eyes, half from sunghoon's sharp nails digging into your cheek and half from the way his cock repeatedly punches against your cervix. it hurts but it's a pain you'd like to savor.
"god," sunghoon says, his face scrunching up in pleasure. he momentarily closes his eyes as he moves his hips even faster. he turns back to you, and by this time, your tears have escaped, streaking your face.
"fuck yeah, cry for me," sunghoon curses. "my pretty slut, weeping over my dick."
"oh, fuck—"
it came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that you can physically feel your body jolt. your second orgasm of the day rips through you, brought about by the filthy words escaping sunghoon's mouth. you hear him practically growl above you as he stills, your cunt clenching down so hard he's unable to move. you feel him twitch inside you and a second later, the warmth of his cum follows, shooting deep inside.
you're full-on crying now, mind hazy from pleasure as sunghoon catches himself before completely crushing you with his weight.
you wrap your shaky arms around sunghoon's shoulders, stroking his hair as the two of you calm yourselves down. sunghoon pulls out a minute later and you wince, immediately clamping your legs together to keep all of him inside you.
sunghoon plops down next to you, breathing heavy as his eyes stare at the ceiling. you hug your knees to your chest, hoping that nothing stains benj's sheets.
"fuck, that's a good girl, keeping all my cum in," sunghoon says through breathless chuckles. you groan, swatting at his chest.
"get tissues or something," you demand weakly, rolling over to your side. sunghoon pulls you close and cradles you against his chest.
"later," he murmurs, kissing you on the forehead. "just wanna hold you."
you hum in agreement, letting your eyes droop close. the two of you lay there, unmoving for a few minutes.
you initially think it's your imagination but you can hear faint footsteps coming down the hallway from outside benj's room. just as your eyes fly open, a loud knock thunders against the door.
"are you done?" comes benj's muffled voice from the other side.
"as much as i wanted to stay and watch, that might not be something you guys are into, so i gave you your privacy," he continues.
you and sunghoon look at each other, clearly panicking.
"but please, for the love of god, don't do it on my goddamn bed next time!"
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aksm · 9 months
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People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.
Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.
This sad, lost princess.
Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.
Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:
"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.
"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.
"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)
It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.
Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.
And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.
But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.
So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.
And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.
It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.
I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.
And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.
And then what happens next?
She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.
This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.
Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?
I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.
And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.
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lord-of-0blivion · 1 year
Text
Ok, so Danny rules all afterlifes, and being the clown hating little shit he is goes:
◇Sky goes green over Gotham◇
"Listen and hear this Royall decree!"
"I, Phantom, God-King of all afterlifes hearby say"
"That as long as your crimes do not exceed his, and you are willing to repent,"
"So long as you kill the Joker, all your sins will be absolved and you will be granted entry into your Heaven of choice!"
Jason-*Sheds a tear* Fuck yeah! *Fist bump*
Harley-*Evil grin*
Ivy-*Evil grin... but in green*
The rest of the bafamily-"Does this mean-"
Batman-"No"
The rest of the bafamily-"But God said so!"
John 'Fuck my life' Constantine-"I need a drink.... Who emptied all the pubs!?" (By bad luck he just happened to be in Gotham)
The rest of Gotham-*Party! Umptz! Umptz!* (Also emptied all the pubs)
The Joker-"Uh oh..."
Danny 'Fuck that clown in particular' Phantom-*Literally splits his head in two like a nightmare cheshire cat grinning*
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bleedingoptimism · 10 months
Text
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚
part 1
“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.
Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.
“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.
Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city. 
Because he’d be utterly lost without him.
He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.
“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.
Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood. 
It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.
Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.
There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.
Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.
“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,
“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”
“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious. 
Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”
“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.” 
“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.
“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.
“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.
Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”
“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.
“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.
“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?” 
“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.
“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly, 
“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.” 
That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,
“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”
Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.
“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.
After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”
“Nerd”
“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”
Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.
Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.
“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”
Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.
They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.
Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.
Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.
It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.
They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,
“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”
Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”
Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”
“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.
“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.
The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.
Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.
“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.
That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”
“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.
She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.
While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.
It’s kind of surreal. 
“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.
“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.
And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”
Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.
Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.
He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.
And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.
Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,
“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.
Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.
But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.
He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers. 
The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.
“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.
Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.
“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.
“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.
“Maybe he’s looking at you”
“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.
He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.
He needs him.
He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?
He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.
Who is walking toward them, holy shit.
“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.
“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,
“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.
part 1: you are here
part 2: 👄
part 3: 🩸
bonus content: ☀️
ao3: 🌙
art: 🦇
coffee?☕🥐💕
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writeyouin · 3 months
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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3
Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along
A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
MALE VERSION HERE
GN VERSION HERE
Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326  @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch
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Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.
So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.
There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.
Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.
And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.
Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.
“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.
No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.
You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.
“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”
“I don’t-” Lucifer started.
“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”
Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”
Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.
Who were you, really?
He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.
Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.
Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.
Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.
“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”
“So, you’ll try then.”
Lucifer nodded his head in consent.
“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.
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When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.
In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.
You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.
After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?
You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.
Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.
You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.
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Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.
Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.
However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.
Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.
He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.
Nothing happened.
Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.
Very well.
He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.
He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.
Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.
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The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.
“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”
“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.
“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.
“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.
“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.
“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”
Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.
“They don’t need to.”
“Okay, but can they?”
“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  
You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”
“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.
“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”
Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.
“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”
He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.
Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.
The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.
You couldn’t help laughing.
“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”
Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.
“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”
“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.
“You know that’s not their names.”
“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”
The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”
“I can’t. I have… plans.”
Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.
It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.
“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”
Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.
“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.
It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.
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amyrahrose · 2 months
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Thinking about Choso recording you as yall fuck. 
“Come on, smile for the camera baby-girl, I wanna see that pretty little face.” Choso groaned out. He was currently balls deep inside you with the camcorder in his hand positioned on your face, capturing every movement you made. He was in pure bliss having his dick positioned snuggly inside your warm, wet walls, pussy fluttering around him every time he gave you instructions. 
“Look at the camera like that again, that’s it sweetheart.”
“Hold them legs up for me.”
“Who’s pussy is this baby? Answer the camera for daddy.” Choso grunted. With each passing moment, he was getting more into it causing his thrusts to pick up, hitting you in that sweet spot.
“Yours.” You squeaked out. You close your eyes only to widen them with a gasp when Choso gave you a sharp, deep thrust. 
“Nah, none of that. Eyes on the camera at all times.” He said breathlessly. 
“Yes Daddy.” You moaned directly to the camera, the sight making Choso’s dick twitch. 
“You like this baby, you like when I record you while I’m giving you this dick?” He asked as he lowered the camera to your breasts, capturing as they bounced to the rhythm of his strokes. He then zoned in on your pussy. Puffy and pretty, Taking his dick so well. Your nut oozing out and forming a cream coat around the base of his cock. He took his other hand and began recording himself playing with your clit, rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud as he groaned feeling you tighten around him.
“Yes daddy, I love it.” You said while gazing up to the camera with a fucked out expression. Choso watched your face through the lens. 
You were a sight to see. Eyes half-lidded, biting your lips as you pierced through the camera, looking directly at him. It made his dick harder, hips pistoning into yours, strokes becoming animalistic as he chased after his nut. 
“Daddy please can I cum?” You moaned out loudly. 
“Cum for the camera baby, cum for daddy.” Choso ordered. As soon as the words were spoken, the band in your stomach snapped, causing one of the most intense orgasms you’ve had. 
Choso was in heaven. Capturing the way you rose your body off of the bed, head thrashing against the pillows as you moaned out his name over and over. Pussy squelching as your juices gushed out, spraying out over the both of you. That was all it took for Choso.
“Fuck baby, I’m bouta nut.” Choso moaned. You were still in a daze from your climax as an idea popped in your mind. In an instance you grabbed the camera from Choso’s grasp and turned it onto him, just in time to capture him as his came undone. Head thrown back, muscles clenched as he held your hips in place, his cum shooting out in ropes, filling you up, the sounds of his moans causing your pussy to clench around him. 
With the camera still recording, Choso looked back down at you through the lens, eyes still full of lust, licking his lips and smirking before saying,
“Take two?”
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© 2024 Amyrahrose. Please do not translate, copy, plagiarize, or repost (sharing links is fine 🤎) without my permission. You will only find my entries/content on tumblr!
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chuluoyi · 15 days
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✎ heaven's fury
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- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
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Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
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Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
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