#i attempted to free hand it at first and then realized its not that serious im not a professional by any means

[tiredpacdad]

dethklok as that fleetwood mac rolling stones picture

#full disclosure i did trace a lot of the picture and then modified to fit their body types #i attempted to free hand it at first and then realized its not that serious im not a professional by any means #learned a lot about drawing fabric doing this #dethklok #metalocalypse #fanart #mtl #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #william murderface #skwistok #nickles #polyklok #if you want doesnt have to be romantic at all idc #fleetwood mac #dick knubbler

[luci-is-a-bitch-x3x]

Obey Me! Lucifer & Mammon with a Goth MC! : basically my thoughts on what the brothers reactions would be, how they would handle having a goth partner, ext.

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Hello!♡ this is my first time doing anything like this lol. Its probs gonna be bad at first, but ill work on it over time! Mammon couldnt be yellow, because i can't find the yellow, sorry. :< Feel free to reblog or leave you're thoughts in the comments! Add on to my ideas or whatever! Anyways enjoy my little idea. Sorry for any jokes, spelling errors, or grammar errors in advance! Without futher distraction, content!! ♡

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Goth MC! who does the make up, the white foundation the "crazy" eyeliner, the black/grey or dark color eyeshadow and blush. Classic black or red lipstick with matching nail polish on the Mc's fingers. The saggy looking hair that matches the make up, oh so well. Goth MC! Who has the unkept look, but at second glance you can tell their well kept. At least to some extent. The Mc has raggy, ripped looking outfit but upon closer inspection its clear the outfit is perfectly kept up with. Goth MC! Who has an over extent looking outfit, looking like rags on rags, and the Mc has a dead looking apperance appearing to have risen from the grave. Almost the perfect example of a goth baddie. How will the brothers react?

Lucifer

When Goth MC! tumbles down into devildom for the very first time, the most of a reaction they'll see Lucifer give is raise of eyebrows, a subtle hint of curiosity.

Lucifer is oddly intrigued by this Mc. Him being the Avatar of Pride he takes appearance seriously. Not as serious as Asmo. Lucifer finds this MC to be endearing however. The way the MC seems to not care what others think of their appearance, captures his attention.

Lucifer originally thought it was the freedom Goth MC seemed to have that captured his attention. Maybe he wanted to be free of his prideful nature and be able to do crazy things like this MC. Bit dramatic Luci. Lucifer wanted to believe this, but he found his mind wandering to Goth Mc as he worked on paperwork. He apprectiated the look the MC has going. He thought it fit the MC perfectly, eventually he would tell the MC in attempts to swoon them. But for now he continues to sketch paperwork occasionally getting distracted by thoughts of Goth Mc.

Once Lucifer is dating Goth Mc, he compliements them constantly. Yes, there is the personality compliemnts but im talking compliements to the Mc's gothy aesthetic. "My dear, you look as heart stopping as a vampire." You'll either crack up at the almost dad pun. Or swoon at how it matches you're aesthetic. And hey? Who doesn't like being compared to a vampire?

Lucifer will treat his Goth partner like Goth royalty. We're talking the best goth attire. This Mc gets the best make up, outfits, accessories, you name it, Lucifer will get it, top price too. Although he would love his partner no matter what he has a reputation to upkeep so the best as always MC. Stop saying you feel bad he wants to be you're sugar daddy silly.

Lucifer will proudly take Goth MC out. Fancy restrauants, cute little outings, just grocery shopping together? He will either hold the Mc's hand or the Mc should hold his arm. If not his hand is on the Mc's lower back guiding them. One, for protection, two, he wants to show this Mc off. Especially if the Mc has talked about people being ashamed of their goth attire. Lucifer is proud of his Mc. He's proud to call the Goth little human his. So you should be proud too!

Lucifer adapts easily to understanding you. (If you tell him goth culture he listens and remembers what you tell him well) He doesn't even realize it at first but he slowly adapts to doing things in a gothic sense. Normally lucifer would give his partner red roses, but for this Mc it was always a black or grey type of flower, whether roses or anything he could find, he would get the flowers in a color that would fit the Mc's aesthetic choices.

Mammon

Mammon comes to get the Mc after the Mc arrive in devildom. Luci orders him to babysit us. So here Mammon comes marching angrily to pick the Mc up from R.A.D but when Mammon marches into the student council room, he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the Goth Mc. Although the Goth Mc almost reminded him of his debt collectors, (the witches or something similar, just dark aesthetics thats what I assume the people Mammon gets in debt to look like) Mammon couldn't help but find the Goth Mc attractive. Mammon is so lost in thought that he'd be standing there staring at the Mc with his jaw dropped.

His brothers begin to tease him and the Mc manages to snap him out of his lovesick trance, Mammon immediately goes tsundare on the Mc. "Oi' what do you think you're doing human?!? Looking like some kind of a freak!! Did yah just crawl outta' a coffin?!?!" Mammon manages to say this with his hand covering his mouth, muffling his words to an extent. He is blushing like crazy and avoiding eye contact, telling the Mc everything they needed to know.

Dating Mammon is quite interesting. Goth Mc is drawn to darker things, maybe things considered "odd" or "scary" to other. But- "The Great Mammon doesn't get scared!!!" Oh great. Now hes sobbing and clutching onto the Mc for dear life. Council him and pretend he was a brave boy. He needs it man.

Mammon is really good with fashion, and when he has Grimm, he loves spending it. So he will get the Mc goth attire and make a big deal about it, how they should be grateful. yada yada although Mammon will never outright say it, he's just grateful the Mc accepts his gifts and chooses to be with him.

If anyone gives the Goth Mc problems over their attire, mammon is quick to defend the Mc. Doesn't matter who's saying it. Their wrong. Mammon knows a gem when he sees it. Thats treasure standing there, as a perfect goth little human.

Mammon goes to lots of places. On errands for the witches. He sees lots of stuff, when he sees stuff that matches Goth Mc's aesthetic, he will gladly get it for them. If he has the Grimm he pays, if not.... "Hey! I'm a demon, whadda'yah expect?!?" Can you really blame him? He just wanted to spoil his partner.

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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed! ♡ I plan to do the rest of the brothers, as well as: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon. I'm going to also do Luke but that will be purely platonic. Might even add more with these characters if the thoughts arise! So if you enjoyed this stay tuned! Lots more thoughts & drabbles to come! Stay safe & remember to drink water loves! ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

#om lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me x reader fluff #om mc #om mammon #om mammon x reader #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #obey me thoughts #obey me drabble #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me x mc #not proofread #Goth Mc

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part six

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of drinking

author's note: ugh i'm sorry this took longer than other chapters, i've had writer's block and i went out of town for a bit

The air was heavy with the sweet scent of freshly cut grass, mingling with the faint aroma of expensive cologne and cigar smoke. The soft thud of golf clubs hitting balls echoed across the pristine lawns of the country club, a testament to the wealth and leisure of its members. Rafe and Topper stood side by side near the practice green, their faces tense with anticipation. Topper's brow furrowed in disbelief as he processed Rafe's shocking revelation.

"You're kidding me, right?" Topper's voice carried a note of incredulity as he turned to face Rafe, his eyes widening in surprise.

Rafe shook his head, a grim expression settling over his features. "I wish I was," he replied, his tone heavy with resignation. "She's back, Topper. Y/N's back."

Topper let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. "Damn, man. And here I thought life was starting to get boring."

Rafe shot him a withering look, unamused by his friend's attempt at humor. "This is serious, Topper. She's with JJ now."

Topper's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "JJ? Seriously?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Man, things just keep getting more complicated around here."

Rafe nodded grimly, his jaw clenched as he contemplated the implications of your return. The tension between them was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

Rafe's voice carried a mix of astonishment and contempt, his words punctuated by a sharp exhale. "I can't believe this. Maybank? I thought she'd have some semblance of standards."

Topper leaned back in his chair, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips as he observed Rafe's reaction. "Come on, Rafe," he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. "You can't be that shocked. Her and Maybank were pretty close, even when you two were together."

Rafe's grip tightened around his glass, the knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his composure. He shot a warning glare at Topper, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. "Doesn't matter," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "She's back now, and I'll make sure she remembers why she left in the first place."

Topper's face fell into an amused smirk, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he leaned forward, genuinely interested in Rafe's plan. "And how do you plan on doing that?" he asked, his voice laced with anticipation and a hint of mischief.

Rafe leaned back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he contemplated his plan. "I'm gonna rip them apart," he declared, his voice low and full of conviction. "Make them realize they don't belong together. And then, when she's finally free, she'll come running back to me."

Topper's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of awe and concern crossing his features. "That's a bold move, Rafe," he remarked, shaking his head slightly. "But I like it." Rafe's grin widened, a glint of determination shining in his eyes as he plotted his next move, ready to do whatever it takes to win you back.

Rafe's voice dripped with malice as he leaned in closer to Topper, his eyes glowing with a twisted glee. "I know exactly how to break her," he sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Things that will make her beg for me." A dark shadow passed over his face, revealing the depths of his deviousness.

Topper's deep, rumbling laugh broke the quiet air, accompanied by a sound of disbelief as he watched Rafe's playful antics. A small smile tugged at the corners of Topper's mouth as he raised his beer in a mock toast to his friend. "You never cease to amaze me," he chuckled, taking a swig from his bottle before setting it back down on the table with a thud. "Cheers to you, man," he added with a grin.

As Rafe's lips curled into a sly grin, the dim lights of the country club reflected in his eyes, illuminating the spark of determination within. With a confident nod, he raised his beer to his lips, savoring the crisp taste as it invigorated him for what was to come. In that moment, the chatter of the club faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic thumping of his own heartbeat, pulsing with anticipation. With every sip, he felt the weight of his intentions settle upon his shoulders, yet it only fueled his resolve further.

As his gaze drifted into the distance, his mind danced with visions of strategy, each step meticulously planned to achieve his desired outcome. In the hushed atmosphere of the club, Rafe was a portrait of determination, ready to embark on a journey that would test the limits of his calculations and potentially change everything.

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As you sat in the room, the silence enveloped you like a thick fog, muffling the outside world and amplifying the cacophony within your mind. Hours seemed to pass unnoticed, each moment stretching into eternity as you grappled with the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

The room itself was a stark white canvas, its walls bare save for a single window that cast a pale light upon the floor. The air was still and heavy, charged with an electric tension that seemed to hum beneath your skin. And there you sat, a fragile figure perched upon the edge of the bed, lost in a sea of thoughts and memories.

The sight of Rafe, after two long years of absence, had struck you like a bolt of lightning, igniting a storm of memories that threatened to consume you whole. You couldn't help but replay moments shared with him, each one a vivid tableau painted in shades of joy, longing, and heartache.

With a heavy heart, you pulled your legs up to your chest, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of solitude. Your mind raced, flickering between moments of happiness and pain, uncertainty and yearning. It was as if time had folded in on itself, trapping you in an endless loop of what-ifs and regrets.

As you stared blankly at the wall before you, the weight of those memories pressed down on you like a leaden blanket. Each image, each whispered conversation, etched itself into your mind with painful clarity, refusing to be ignored or forgotten.

Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held in store. Would you find the strength to confront the ghosts of your past and move forward, or would you remain forever trapped in the shadows of what could have been?

The weight of guilt settled heavily upon you, a silent burden that threatened to suffocate you with its crushing embrace. It wasn't just the encounter with Rafe that had shaken you to your core; it was the raw intensity of the emotions it had dredged up from the depths of your soul.

Your friends, ever perceptive, had noticed the shift in your demeanor, the subtle changes in your laughter, the haunted look in your eyes. Among them, JJ had been the most attentive, his concern a constant presence in the background of your days. He tried to coax you out of your shell, offering small gestures of kindness and understanding, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to reach the depths of your turmoil.

And it pained him, more than he dared to admit, to see you struggling beneath the weight of your own emotions. He longed to chase away the shadows that haunted your every step, to wrap you in his arms and shield you from the storm raging inside your heart. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more, something hidden beneath the surface, that eluded even his keenest gaze.

The sound of a timid knock echoed through the room, jolting you out of the labyrinth of your thoughts. With a furrowed brow and a racing heart, you turned your gaze towards the door, a sliver of curiosity piercing through the veil of your reverie. "Who is it?" you called out, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

A familiar voice, soft and gentle, floated through the wooden barrier, carrying with it a sense of warmth and familiarity that washed over you like a gentle tide. "It's me, JJ," came the whispered reply, so quiet that it was almost lost amidst the rustle of the wind outside.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed, the weight of uncertainty settling like a leaden cloak upon your shoulders. With hesitant steps, you made your way to the door, your hand trembling as you reached out to grasp the handle. As you pulled it open, a rush of cool air swept into the room, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sea.

Standing before you was JJ, his features bathed in the soft glow of twilight streaming through the window. His eyes, pools of deep blue, held a silent question, a silent plea for understanding that tugged at the strings of your heart. And as you met his gaze, a fragile connection blossomed between you, fragile yet unbreakable, binding you together in a silent embrace.

For a moment, you stood there, locked in a silent tableau, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between you. And as the seconds stretched into eternity, you realized that sometimes, the greatest truths lie not in what is said, but in the silent spaces that linger between the words.

With a faint smile, you welcomed him into the room with a soft "Hey, come in," stepping aside to allow him entry. JJ nodded his thanks and crossed the threshold, his steps carrying him towards the edge of your bed where he settled himself down, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and affection.

"You haven't left your room all day, Y/N," His soft voice pierced through the silence that had consumed your room all day. You couldn't bring yourself to leave, the weight of your thoughts chaining you in place. Your hand trembled as he reached out to gently grasp it, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine and grounding you in the present amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

As you lowered yourself onto the bed beside him, the mattress dipped slightly under your weight. You turned to face him, his eyes speaking volumes of unspoken worry and concern. A silent plea hung heavy in the air between you, his gaze searching yours for answers.

"I know," you murmured, barely above a whisper as you struggled to find words to express the turmoil within. "It's just… being back here again, it threw me off more than I thought it would."

JJ's sigh echoed softly in the room, a somber melody that underscored the weight of your shared emotions. He sensed the unspoken truth lingering beneath your words - the invisible thread tethering you to Rafe's memory and tugging you back into the tumultuous waters of your past.

"I understand," JJ murmured, his voice tinged with empathy and apprehension. He knew how much this encounter with Rafe had affected you, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and leaving you adrift in uncertainty. But despite the storm raging within you, JJ remained steadfast in his resolve to be your anchor - guiding you through the tempest with unwavering support and love.

"I'm here," he reassured you, his words a gentle promise woven with sincerity. "I won't let you give up like this." His declaration hung in the air, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness threatening to consume you.

But even with JJ's unwavering support, you couldn't help but feel like your past was haunting you after coming back to this island. You spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, struggling to put your feelings into words.

JJ's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice as he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the swirling currents of your emotions.

"What do you mean, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with concern. He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you were feeling.

"I just don't feel like I'm half the girl you think I am," you confessed softly, your words heavy with self-doubt.

JJ's confusion only added to the weight of your emotions, making it harder to articulate your feelings. "What are you talking about, baby?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "I've done things that were wrong, Jay," you admitted, each word feeling like a jagged edge tearing at your soul. "And… I ran away from this island just to escape my own problems. That wasn't okay." Your voice wavered as you spoke, the weight of your confession hanging heavily in the air. You felt exposed and vulnerable - but also relieved to finally have someone know the truth.

A somber expression enveloped JJ's features as he listened to your words. "If this is about Rafe and what happened between us when you were seeing him, that was well over two years ago, Y/N," he gently reassured you. "You can't punish yourself for whatever you did in the past, and besides, you two were broken up." His voice carried a comforting tone, laced with understanding and empathy, as he tried to ease the weight of your guilt.

JJ's expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mixture of compassion and contemplation as he searched your face for the right words. For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your question lingering in the air. Finally, JJ spoke, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Y/N, forgiveness isn't about deserving or not deserving. It's about understanding and moving forward," he said, his tone carrying a depth of sincerity. "And if it were me… I'd like to think I would have found a way to forgive you."

Although he was sincere, you responded with a dry, non-humored laugh. "You would've hated me, JJ. You and I both know that."

JJ reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "I could never hate you, Y/N," he said softly, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "No matter what you think you've done, I'm always going to love you."

As you sought solace in JJ's comforting presence, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swept through your mind. The echo of past grievances against Rafe clashed with the unexpected empathy that stirred within you upon seeing him again.

In the quiet depths of your soul, doubts danced like shadows, casting uncertainty over your hardened resolve. Could you truly unshackle yourself from the chains of resentment that bound you to the past? Each word JJ spoke, laced with conviction and forgiveness, tugged at the fragile threads of your resolve, threatening to unravel the carefully woven tapestry of your anger.

Yet, amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions, a flicker of compassion ignited within you. The vulnerability in Rafe's gaze, a stark contrast to the arrogance you once knew, pierced through the armor around your heart. It was a silent plea for understanding, a beacon of humanity in a sea of animosity.

With a heavy heart and a tentative smile, you attempted to convey to JJ the semblance of acceptance he sought. But deep within, the embers of resentment still smoldered, casting a shadow of doubt over the possibility of forgiveness.

"I've always loved you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that resonated deep within you. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you felt a sense of belonging that transcended words.

With a forced smile, you gazed into JJ's eyes, hoping he wouldn't see through the facade you had carefully crafted. "I love you too, Jay," you repeated, the words hollow and empty, yet spoken with a practiced ease that belied the turmoil raging within. As you spoke the words, you hoped they would serve as a shield, deflecting the raw emotions that threatened to engulf you both. You wanted to believe them, to convince yourself that everything was fine, but deep down, doubts gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

JJ's soft smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passing over his features before he cleared his throat and spoke up again. His words hung in the air, laden with a sense of hesitation that caught your attention.

"Oh, I also forgot to tell you," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension, "I got us our jobs back at the golf course."

"You did what?" Your eyes widened in horror, and you shot up from the bed so fast it almost made JJ flinch. The words hung heavy in the air, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. Working at the golf course meant revisiting a part of your past you had worked so hard to leave behind. It was a place filled with memories - both good and bad - that still had the power to shake you to your core.

JJ's expression softened as he watched your reaction, his own uncertainty reflecting in his eyes. He knew how difficult this news was for you, but he also believed that facing your fears head-on might bring some closure.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. "I thought it might be good for us, you know? To get back into the swing of things."

You took in a deep breath as you paced the floor, trying to collect your thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "Well, when are we supposed to start, JJ?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

JJ scratched the back of his head nervously, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting yours. "Uh, tomorrow," he replied, his tone hesitant. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I thought we could use the distraction, you know?"

You scoffed in disbelief as you continued pacing the bedroom, shaking your head continuously as you confronted your boyfriend. "I can't believe you did this, JJ. We could've gotten a job anywhere, and you chose the golf course?"

JJ seemed taken aback by your outburst, shifting uncomfortably under your gaze. "Why are you so upset about working there? Is it because of Rafe?" he asked cautiously, his brow furrowing in concern.

You paused, feeling a surge of anger and frustration at the mention of Rafe's name. Turning on your heel to face JJ, you felt your heart pounding with intensity. "I can't believe you'd say that, especially after the conversation we just had," you exclaimed, your voice laced with a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

JJ's jaw dropped as he looked up at you, his brows furrowing in confusion and frustration. "Well, it's not a far-fetched guess, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his tone edged with frustration. "I mean, why else would you care so much about working there?"

Your voice rose with frustration as you confronted JJ, the pent-up emotions finally boiling over. "Why do you think everything is about Rafe?" you exclaimed, your tone edged with exasperation. "Maybe I didn't like working there, or maybe it's because I fucking outgrew the place when we stopped working there two damn years ago, JJ!"

JJ's eyes widened in surprise at the intensity of your words, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. "Y/N, I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to assume..."

You shoved his hand away, a pang of hurt flashing across JJ's features as he watched you withdraw. "Look, I'm not doing this with you right now, Jay," you said firmly, holding your hands up in defense as you backed away. "I can't handle another fight or argument with anyone, especially you. I just need to be alone right now."

JJ's expression fell, the hurt evident in his eyes as he nodded silently, understanding your need for space. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I'll... give you some space."

With a silent nod, you met JJ's gaze, a faint apologetic expression softening your features. Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the bedroom, the weight of the unresolved tension heavy on your shoulders. As you left JJ behind, the air between you thick with unspoken words, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that gnawed at your conscience.

Sarah bounced up from the couch, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she eagerly awaited your response. "Hey! Guess where we are going tonight?" she chirped, her voice filled with an infectious energy that lifted your spirits.

You couldn't help but be drawn in by her enthusiasm, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched her. "Where are we going tonight?" you asked, genuinely curious now, grateful for the distraction from your earlier argument with JJ.

Sarah's eyes lit up with excitement as she practically bounced on her feet, her smile infectious. "A party!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity, mixed with a tinge of apprehension. "But aren't we supposed to be keeping a low profile?" you questioned, furrowing your brow in concern.

Sarah waved off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, a playful smirk playing at her lips. "We'll be fine," she assured you, her tone laced with a hint of mischief.

You pondered her words for a moment, weighing the potential consequences of going against John B's wishes. The temptation of a night of carefree fun was hard to resist, and Sarah's infectious enthusiasm was even harder. "Okay," you relented, a small smile spreading across your lips as you agreed.

A squeal of delight escaped Sarah's lips as she threw her arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. "Yay!" she cheered, her voice filled with joy and excitement. "This is going to be so much fun, Y/N!"

The tension eased from your body as you returned her hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm on your frayed nerves. In that moment, the troubles of the past seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.

You pulled away slightly, shooting Sarah a playful grin as you met her gaze. "Let's get ready, then!" you exclaimed, matching her enthusiasm as you grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathroom.

You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for the party, a welcome distraction from the heaviness that had weighed on you all day. The excitement buzzed in the air, a palpable sense of anticipation building as you and Sarah prepared yourselves for the night ahead.

With each passing moment, you felt the tension and stress melting away, replaced by a sense of eager anticipation for the evening. And as the sun began to set, painting the sky in a symphony of hues, you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you at the party.

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A myriad of emotions coursed through your veins, the energy of the crowd fueling your own enthusiasm. You couldn't help but be swept up in the contagious spirit of the party, the music thrumming through your body as you swayed along to the beat.

The pulsating lights and pounding bass of the music blurred the edges of your perception, enveloping you in a euphoric haze. You moved to the rhythm with a sense of abandon, feeling the music course through your veins like a drug. Sarah danced beside you, her laughter mingling with the beat as you lost yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating atmosphere of the party.

As you swayed to the music, you leaned in close to Sarah, the excitement evident in your voice despite the cacophony around you. "I'm gonna go get another drink!" you exclaimed, your words punctuated by the pulsating beat. Sarah flashed you a thumbs up, her own energy mirroring yours as she continued dancing to the rhythm.

As you weaved through the pulsating crowd, the thumping bass reverberating through your body, you felt a surge of energy coursing through you. The dim lights danced around you, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to move in time with the music. With each step, you felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of liberation and exhilaration.

At the bar, you leaned against the counter, catching the eye of the bartender amidst the chaos. "Another round, please!" you called out, your voice barely audible above the din of the music. The bartender nodded in acknowledgment, swiftly preparing your drink as you scanned the room, taking in the sea of faces illuminated by the neon glow.

Leaning casually against the polished surface of the bar counter, you let your gaze wander aimlessly across the pulsating crowd. The flickering lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the room, painting the scene in vibrant hues that danced in time with the music. You tapped your fingers lightly against the edge of the counter, the rhythm of the song seeping into your bones as you swayed gently to its melody.

As you waited for your drink to arrive, you found yourself lost in the moment, humming along to the familiar tune playing overhead. The thumping bass reverberated through the floor, sending vibrations up your legs and into your core. It was as if the music had woven itself into the very fabric of the room, enveloping you in its infectious energy. Amidst the chaos of the party, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, a fleeting moment of tranquility amidst the frenzy. The laughter and chatter of the crowd faded into the background as you allowed yourself to be swept away by the music, letting it carry you to a place of pure bliss.

With your drink in hand, you turned back towards the pulsating crowd, ready to lose yourself once again in the rhythm of the music. But as you took a step forward, your gaze lifted, and you froze in your tracks.

There, just a few feet away, stood a familiar figure, his tall stature commanding attention even amidst the throng of partygoers. Surrounded by his friends, he seemed completely at ease, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he engaged in conversation.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, a rush of conflicting emotions washing over you. It was as if the chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a suspended moment of recognition.

Your heart quickened its pace as you struggled to maintain your composure, your grip on your drink tightening involuntarily. Every fiber of your being urged you to look away, to flee from the intensity of his gaze. But something kept you rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

In that moment, surrounded by the pulsing music and the swirling crowd, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him, the pull of his presence undeniable despite the distance between you. With a steadying breath, you braced yourself for what was to come, knowing that this encounter would change everything.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him weave through the crowd, each movement drawing him closer to where you stood. The dim lights of the party cast shadows across his features, highlighting the familiar contours of his face as he neared.

Time seemed to slow as he finally reached you, his presence enveloping you in a wave of nostalgia and uncertainty. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him, captivated by the intensity of his eyes as they met yours.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" His voice broke through the haze of the party, pulling you back to the present moment. The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, stirring memories of shared moments and whispered promises.

"I... I'm just here with Sarah," you replied, your voice barely audible above the music. His proximity made it difficult to focus, his presence eliciting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.

He nodded in understanding, his expression inscrutable as he took in your response. "I see," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher. You found yourself caught in his gaze, unable to look away as he spoke.

"Rafe... I," your words caught in your throat as you struggled to find the right thing to say. Meeting his gaze, you searched for the courage to speak, to convey the torrent of emotions swirling inside you.

"Yeah?" Rafe prompted softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you attempted to apologize with sincerity although your words slurred some, "it was just a shock to see you.""

You watched as Rafe's shoulders relaxed a bit, his features easing from their initial tension. "It's alright," he said quietly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "I guess I should've expected to see you back here eventually."

You held your silence as you peered up at him momentarily with a doe-eyed look gazing up at him, silently pleading for his forgiveness. Although the room around you was still spinning, you intently watched as his azure colored eyes flickered back and forth between yours, as if he was trying to find some truth to your words.

Rafe's expression softened further as he looked down at you, a hint of vulnerability shining in his eyes. "I've missed you," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible over the music.

As his words hung in the air, the chaos of the party seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of suspended time. The confession tugged at your heart, stirring up feelings you had buried deep within yourself.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The raw honesty of the moment enveloped you both, weaving a fragile thread of connection between your intertwined pasts and uncertain futures.

Rafe reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the space between you as if seeking permission. Without hesitation, you closed the gap, letting his fingers intertwine with yours. It felt like coming home after a long journey, a sense of familiarity and warmth flooding through your veins.

In that fleeting moment of contact, a wave of memories flooded your mind - the shared laughter, stolen kisses, and whispered promises that once filled your days with joy. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, begging to be released into the fragile space between you. Rafe's gaze bore into yours, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as if mirroring the emotions swirling within you.

With a deep breath, you mustered the courage to break the silence that had settled between you. "I never stopped loving you," the words spilled out in a whisper, carrying a lifetime of regrets and longing.

Rafe's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings he had buried deep within himself. "I thought about you every day," he confessed, his voice barely above a murmur.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of unspoken truths lifted off your shoulders, leaving behind a bittersweet ache for all the time lost. The music continued to play in the background, a gentle melody underscoring the intensity of the moment between you and Rafe. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you both back together, allowing a second chance at love to bloom amidst the chaos of the party swirling around you.

As you stood there, hand in hand with Rafe, the distance that had once seemed insurmountable now felt like a mere whisper of a forgotten past. The years apart melted away, leaving behind a sense of familiarity and yearning that echoed in the depths of your souls.

"I don't want to lose you again," Rafe's voice broke through the silence, his words laced with a vulnerability that pierced through your defenses. His gaze held yours, pleading for a chance to make things right, to rewrite the story that had been left unfinished between you.

In that moment, surrounded by the haunting melody of the music and the weight of their shared unspoken truths, you felt a sense of hope blossoming within you. The years of heartache and longing seemed to fade into nothingness as you found yourself gazing into Rafe's eyes, seeing the same yearning reflected back at you.

“So much has changed since I left, Rafe. I..I’m with JJ now,” A flicker of pain crossed Rafe's face at your words, his grip on your hand tightening momentarily before he forced himself to relax. "I see," he replied softly, though the turmoil in his eyes was impossible to conceal. You could sense the flood of emotions swirling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

As you watched Rafe struggle to maintain his composure, a pang of regret washed over you. The complexities of the situation weighed heavily on your heart, torn between the past that still held a piece of your soul and the present that offered a different kind of solace.

"I'm sorry, Rafe," you whispered, the words heavy with an unspoken apology for the wounds you had inadvertently reopened. His gaze softened as he looked at you, a mix of understanding and heartbreak clouding his features.

"It's okay," Rafe said, his voice tinged with resignation. "I should have expected as much."

The air between you grew heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, creating a rift that felt impossible to bridge. You searched for the right words to ease the tension that lingered between you, yearning for a way to mend what had been broken so long ago.

"I never wanted to hurt you," you confessed, the weight of guilt settling heavily on your shoulders. Rafe's gaze softened upon hearing your words, a flicker of empathy shining through the hurt in his eyes.

"I know," he replied quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of pain and acceptance. "We both made mistakes, Y/N. That's in the past now." Silence enveloped you once more, the weight of unspoken apologies and regrets hanging in the air like a heavy shroud. The music continued to pulse around you, a stark contrast to the stillness that had settled between you and Rafe.

"I should go," Rafe said suddenly, his voice breaking through the quiet that had descended upon you both. His fingers slipped out of yours, leaving a ghost of warmth in their wake. You watched as he turned to leave, his shoulders hunched with the weight of unresolved emotions. As he reached the doorway, he paused, his back still turned to you.

"I'll always care about you," Rafe's voice drifted back to you, heavy with emotion. And then, without another word, he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. The truth in them was undeniable, a bittersweet reminder of what once was between you. With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you, its melody a poignant backdrop to the ache in your heart.

As the party continued on around you, laughter and chatter filling the air, you found yourself lost in memories of a time when things had been different between you and Rafe. A time when love had bloomed instead of withered, when promises had meant something more than just words.

But now, all that was left were shattered fragments of what could have been. The weight of regret settled in the pit of your stomach as you replayed the moments of the past that led to this heartbreaking present. The music that once brought joy now felt like a cruel reminder of happier times, mocking the emptiness that consumed you.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when a familiar voice interrupted the melancholy symphony playing in your mind. "Y/N?" The voice was hesitant, almost tentative, pulling you back to reality. You turned to see Rafe standing before you, uncertainty written across his features.

"I couldn't leave without saying this," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I still love you, Y/N. Despite everything that has happened, my feelings for you never truly faded." His words hung in the air between you, heavy with raw emotion.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, emotions swirling within you like a tumultuous storm. Rafe's confession left you speechless, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. Despite the ache in your heart, a glimmer of hope flickered within you at his declaration. You searched his eyes, seeing the genuine vulnerability and longing in them.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you both stood there, enveloped in a bubble of unresolved emotions and unspoken words. The sounds of the party faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own making.

Finally finding your voice, you reached out a trembling hand towards him, unsure of what the future held but unwilling to let go of this fragile chance at reconciliation. "Rafe," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the music. "I never stopped loving you either."

His eyes widened in surprise, as if not daring to believe that your feelings mirrored his own. Without another word, he stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you until there was barely a breath of space separating your bodies. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric tension between you and Rafe.

In that moment, it felt as if all the pain and heartache of the past melted away, overshadowed by the overwhelming rush of emotion that surged through you. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a familiar yet long-forgotten sensation.

Rafe's gaze never wavered from yours as he slowly raised his hand to cup your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm. Every nerve in your body tingled at his proximity, at the unspoken promise that hung in the air between you.

Without a word, you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as if savoring the feeling of his hand against your skin. It was as if the world had finally righted itself, as if all the pieces that had been scattered were falling back into place.

And in that stolen moment of quiet intimacy, with your heart beating wildly in your chest, Rafe's lips met yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. It was a merging of souls, a culmination of years of longing and regret, all encapsulated in the simple act of their lips meeting. The world around you ceased to exist as you melted into each other, the weight of past grievances lifting off your shoulders with each passing second.

As the kiss deepened, it was as if time itself had rewound, bringing you back to a place where love was pure and uncomplicated. The doubts and fears that had plagued your mind just moments ago faded into oblivion, replaced by a sense of completeness that only Rafe could bring.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, there was a softness in Rafe's eyes that you hadn't seen in years. It was a look of understanding and forgiveness, a silent promise of starting anew. "I've missed you," Rafe whispered, his voice barely audible yet filled with a depth of emotion that resonated within you. His words hung in the air, echoing the unspoken longing that had lingered between you for so long.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you searched his gaze, finding solace and hope reflected back at you. It was a moment of vulnerability and truth, where all the barriers you had built around your heart crumbled in the face of his sincerity.

"I've missed you too," you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath as if afraid to break the fragile magic that had enveloped you both.

Rafe's thumb brushed away a tear that escaped down your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring. In that simple gesture, you found a sense of peace that had eluded you for years. In the quiet hum of the night, with nothing but the soft rustle of leaves outside the window, Rafe drew you closer into his embrace. The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, chasing away the remnants of doubt and uncertainty that lingered within you.

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sense of belonging washed over you. It was a feeling that transcended words, a silent understanding that had been forged through years of shared moments and untold secrets.

The sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful state, his words echoing the unspoken feelings that lay dormant within you.

"I'm sorry," Rafe murmured, his tone laced with remorse. "For everything."

You nodded against his chest, the movement barely perceptible. "I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of regret and forgiveness. With the music pulsating around you, you clung to him as if afraid to let go, knowing that this was a moment you would carry with you forever.

taglist: @rrosiitas, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87,

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#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you

[skeletonsweatshirt]

Connected || Viktor x gn!reader

Connected - Part 1

Soulmate!AU (Red String of Fate)

Viktor x gn!reader

WC: 1.7k

Tags: Extroverted Jayce, New Dorm Room, Y/N is still moving in, Impatient Heimey, First Day jitters, Viktor says literally nothing, That mf silent, Confused Reader, *Insert vine of that one lady yelling about how Arkansas and Kansas are pronounced differently*, yes I just made a vine reference, it's my goddamn fic. Also, Heimerdinger has a bouncy mustache. I am my own proofreader, Grammarly is a frequent life saver (not sponsored)

Warnings: None really. Heimer mentions the reader that getting a full-ride scholarship is a "big responsibility" and there's like a few very brief symptoms of anxiety but it's never like a panic attack it's just the reader being nervous about starting school. Also, v quick mention of chaos and destruction spurred by the reader learning what Jayce and Vik are working on. Nothing in detail, just the idea that putting magic in the hands of normies might end badly.

A/N: Hey you little stinkies. Sorry I haven't posted in a bit. School just started and I've been busy not getting an F and also looking for a job and shit. Either way, I'm back now and I'm gonna try to post a bit more frequently but if it doesn't happen don't get butt hurt cuz chances are I will be back eventually. I'll try to get Chapter 2 out soon but idk we'll see what happens. Anyways enjoy the read.

You double and triple-check your bag to be sure of its contents on the way to the sleek, white, and gold vanity pushed against your wall. You double and triple check your uniform is right. White Shirt, White Vest, Red Tie, Black Bottoms. Alright, looking good. You give yourself possibly the quickest thumbs up in the reflection before racing towards the door of the new dorm room you weren't quite used to the layout of yet. 

Another set of three knocks arrives on the outside of your hefty door before you manage to open it. On the other side is a yordle, about two and a half feet shorter than you, with a poro standing loyally at his right side. You smile down at the dean of the school, the fluffball known as Cecil B Heimerdinger, or just Professor Heimerdinger to you.

"Oh, hello sir. Good morning." You beam down at the man.

"Good morning, Y/N. I hope you are settling in well." The yordle remarks cheerfully. 

"I'm doing my best. A bit hard to get around with boxes at your feet, though." You chuckle to hide the grimace that you're wearing in your brain. You severely underestimated how difficult it would be to unload a few boxes of your things into your new home for the next 4+ years.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Come, come, child, we should start the tour." He offers, waving you forward to follow him. 

You swiftly nod and step out of your dorm room, making sure the door is locked behind you. You follow the man, attempting to match his pace so you don't fall forward or behind him. You quickly dart your eyes between the floor and him, not sure yet which you're supposed to look at.

"First things first, congratulations on your scholarship. It's not every day someone gets to come here nearly for free. That's a big responsibility, you know." The yordle states, or jokes. You can't really tell quite yet, you're still getting used to him. 

"I know, sir. And I just wanted to thank you for approving it. I think I can truly achieve great things here." You exclaim.

"That's what we're hoping for. That is why you'll be assisting two of our greatest minds in the lab." He notes. Something you are just now realizing is that somehow Heimerdinger's mustache manages to bounce every time he speaks. Hopefully, you are never in a serious meeting with him. "But first I want to show you around. Make sure you understand where all your classes are and how to get there."

You nod in understanding. As you look around, you start to notice other students clearly staring at you and the professor. Some, who must not know who you are, are looking at you like you'd just been involved in the biggest scandal in your life. Others look at you absolutely bewildered. And you are pretty sure you see a few students, older and not, checking their right hands to see if their string lines up with yours, and when it doesn't, they simply look at you disappointed.

You look at your own hand. Surprisingly, you're following your string right down the middle. If this string wasn't like...magic or something...and the slack just kept dragging along, it would be straight between your legs. That's how exact you are. A soft whistle comes from below you, and just as Heimerdinger catches your attention, you turn a corner and begin walking away from where the string was leading.

About an hour and a half goes by before you finish locating all your classes, the cafeteria, and the library. If there was one thing to admire about Heimerdinger, it would be how damn thorough he is. 

"Now, we are headed to the lab where you will be conducting research. Jayce and Viktor should be there since their classes haven't started yet." The professor lends you a kind smile as he begins walking you through the expansive corridors of the school. 

You give an excited nod. An actual lab for you to work in! Not some bullshit one you put together in your parent's cramped attic because your mother stated she'd rather have the top of the house blow up than the bottom. You swiftly swing your bag towards your front, unclipping the fastens and digging through the many papers, notebooks, and folders you had somehow managed to cram inside. 

You procure a leatherbound journal, no larger than your face, and open it. This journal contains all the notes you have taken on topics you wished to research or experiment with in the past year. Some of the topics you had been able to approach at your home lab, but some you had saved until you had access to a professional lab. Like the one at the academy.

You skim through the pages, a feather-like finger tracing over the lines of the topics that caught your eye. You realize about halfway through flicking through that you don't even know if any of your studies match up with Jayce and Viktor's.

"Sir, may I ask what exactly what Jayce and Viktor are working on in their lab space?" You question the older man without removing your face from the journal. 

"They are designing a company they call 'Hextech" The yordle makes air quotes with his fingers. "The goal of their project is to discover a way to put the Arcane into the hands of the people through innovative technology." 

You pause. The Arcane? Like...magic? You let the journal fall limply to your side as you look at the professor. "Isn't that like...really dangerous?" Your eyebrows knit together on your forehead as you ask. You remember reading about things like this in old history books. Putting magic in the hands of the non-magic users usually just ended in chaos and destruction.

Heimerdinger looks at you with a look of confusion. Not in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't know what you're talking about. On the contrary, he knows exactly what you're talking about. He's probably older than those books you were reading. The look he gives you makes you think that he's the only one ever asking that question. 

"Ahem," The man clears his throat. "Usually it is. And honestly, I was opposed to the idea at first. However, Jayce and Viktor are some of the brightest minds in the Academy. They have promised me that everything is under control, and they take extra precaution when handling their projects."

A muffled crashing sound comes from down the hallway. Judging by the look on your superior's face, said crash is coming from Viktor and Jayce's lab. 

"Extra precaution, huh?" You chortle as you shove your journal back into your bag as you and Heimer make way down the corridor slightly faster than you were.

Once you make it to the lab, you straighten out your outfit and open the door, allowing Heimerdinger to walk in before you. As you walk into the open room, you recognize what the noise must've been. A bag of tools bulkier than you had ever seen had tipped over, sending a sea of metal over the lab's solid flooring.

Your bag immediately makes its way off your shoulder and onto the ground beside you. You crouch down, assisting the more muscular of the two men with collecting the items that had come out of the bag in the fall. You both stand once every tool is back in its rightful place.

"Thank you." The man sticks out a hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Jayce Talis. And you are?"

"Y/N L/N." A familiar older voice rings out behind you. "They are your new assistant. Y/N, these are Jayce," He gestures to the man in front of you. "and Viktor." He gestures over to a man sitting on a metal stool who somehow looks both older and younger than Jayce. He has soft-looking quafts of chestnut brown hair that seem to waterfall down his scalp in a way that's both messy and put together. Like he tried to groom himself but gave up halfway through.

You throw a quick grin at the slender man before giving him a brief run-over with your eyes. Then you go back to turn your head and face Jayce. Then you don't. What was supposed to be a quick glance to just get a general idea of your soon-to-be lab partner turns into you turning your head so fast you nearly get whiplash. All because your glance at the man was interrupted with a shade of crimson that is now scarily familiar.

And to your surprise, the color wasn't a trick your eyes decided to play on your brain. Tied around Viktor's book-holding right pinky finger is a piece of cardinal-colored string that drapes to the floor below him and creates an obvious path between the two of you.

You stare at the string for a time, admiring the trail left across the tile floors before a voice penetrates your internal cloud of questions, answers, and miscellaneous thoughts and feelings that weren't either of the first two but you didn't really have time to sort them because holy shit. 

"Mx. L/N." Heimer addresses you in a tone that makes it seem like he has been calling your name for the past hour.

You snap out of your haze just enough. You force your eyes away from the ribbon and onto your superior. "Yes, sir?" You ask.

"I have to get going. I trust you are in good hands here. Jayce and Viktor will show you around, and I'm sure you will get acclimated to life in the Academy in no time. You all know where my office is if you are to need me." The yordle notes and walks out of the large doors behind you. 

You wave goodbye to the dean and his pet and then face your full attention towards your more muscular partner. You decide to ignore the other one for now, even if that means getting holes burnt through your skull by his darting glances. That is something to deal with later.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #viktor #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane jayce #jayce #arcane netflix #red string of fate #red string of destiny #red string au #soulmate alternate universe #soulmate au #soulmate #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #gn!reader #viktor x gn reader #heimerdinger #the academy arcane #beginner #beginner writer #writer #queer #queer writer

[boundlss]

" it's a free-for-all kill-them-all. every last one of them. " | dharlan to cyran!

The sound that comes from Cyran in response starts as a quiet, pleased giggle. Of course, it doesn't stay that way. Realizing what Dharlan has said and the implications of it---namely, that he must have shed his boring promise to behave all the time, at least in situations like this---causes the giggle to become a loud, outright laugh that confuses their enemies and brings a new energy through Cyran.

Nimbly, he twists his body so he's in front of Dharlan for a moment, back facing the soon-to-be corpses in an outright display of disregard for their potential danger, almost as if he fears nothing from them at all. For a moment, after Cyran cups his hands around Dharlan's face, it seems like he's going to do something a little audacious. But he doesn't. He only speaks a few, quiet sentences as his laughter briefly dies down, a serious expression on his face.

"Don't hold back. That's a formal request I'm giving you; I want to see a slaughter. Okay?" Then he smiles bright as ever, and disappears in a flash of soon-to-be red clothes and black hair, darting over to the furthest man from them and delivering a swift kick to the head. It's no different from his usual routine, only this time his blow is landed without a direct line of sight to its target; Cyran is watching, intently, even as he fights.

Maybe, someone different from Cyran thinks---maybe, if Dharlan is ordinary and like this, then it's alright for me that I enjoy it sometimes too. Maybe I'm entirely incorrect about the involvement of my own free will in the act of becoming a monster. Maybe that choice that I've taken for granted to embrace my hunger was always this good.

Letting out a sigh that sounds almost infatuated, he turns his attention to the man he's fighting, delivering a lazy series of blows and dodging the clumsy attempts of the arrogant imbecile who couldn't have possibly known the sort of people he was trying to rob.

The fight is incredibly short, and no lives are spared but the victors'. Though he'd exerted very little energy, Cyran's breathing is heavy as he stares across the clearing at Dharlan---handsome, beautiful Dharlan, covered in blood as he always is after a fight. And surrounded by carnage in just the way Cyran likes to see. The feeling of relief that fills him is not for Dharlan's safety; it's an echo of a feeling from the time before. The time he'd forgotten.

I can live like this, someone thinks. I can feel alive like this.

The sentimental thoughts are kept close to his heart; Cyran barely remembers the person who birthed those thoughts in the first place. Instead, he skips over like he always does, cheerful in his off-kilter way, and hooks his arms around Dharlan's neck. This isn't such a terrible way to hide, if Cyran must ever hide at all. He turns his head to the side, nose to Dharlan's neck.

"I'm starved, after that," he comments, smiling wryly even though he knows Dharlan can't see. "I suppose the blood here is fresh enough for me to sustain myself on, but... Hahahaha, yours smells so delicious after you've gone on a rampage. You simply must allow me..."

underclass hero. / accepting.

#muse: cyran azerrad kapral #futurecomposed

[hexpea]

Ch. 3 - Just an Accident

The ride felt longer than it actually was. As your conversation with Gojo began to wind down, you felt your anxiety about facing a first grade drift away and perpetual sleepiness set in. It became nearly impossible to keep your head up, eyes beginning to strain to stay awake. There came a point where you could no longer stay awake, head lolling backward and body falling limp.

In your unconscious state, as you should've expected, you began to fall to one side - your temple gently pressing against Geto's shoulder. Geto's body stiffened as soon as he felt your presence, unused to affectionate physical contact. His mind began to race with what to do, whether to wake you up or let you be.  It only took him a few seconds to decide what to do. 

Ever so carefully, Geto gently moved you from his shoulder making sure you were undisturbed as he shifted your weight away from him. Instead of making sure you were upright again, he had fully moved you to the other side, your opposite temple now hitting Gojo's shoulder. Gojo quietly looked over at Geto with a confused expression as you continued sleeping away.  Geto gave Gojo a serious look, an intensely furrowed brow as he mouthed the words "leave her be," to him. Gojo furrowed his own brow and glanced down at you. His sour expression softened as he grew accustomed to your pressure, using his free hand to come around and gently pat your head. You shifted your body from the sudden stimuli but managed to stay asleep, remaining that way for the rest of the ride. If only you'd been even partially awake...

"Y/N," you began to hear your voice getting called. It was more than likely that it wasn't the first time Gojo had said your name in an attempt to wake you. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hmm?" You picked your head up, feeling groggier than ever as you gained consciousness. 

"We're here!" Gojo's voice reached its normal volume and cheery tone. "You're a deep sleeper!"

"Huh?" You were completely out of it, looking around to find Geto already out of the vehicle. You then realized where your head had been and your face easily grew hot. "Sorry!"

"Don't be, it was my pleasure to be your pillow," Gojo chuckled, "let's just head in so we can get this over with." You had to admit his phrasing hurt a little, but you considered your little nap a win. 

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Geto greeted you as you approached the high school. You blushed and slowed your pace with his words, letting Gojo take the lead. 

"Man, something awful must have been going on at this school for two first grades to manifest here," Gojo stretched out while staring up at the building. 

"Yeah, tell me about it," Geto agreed, looking up himself as Gojo meandered over to his best friend's side to toss his arm around his shoulder. You felt out of place, like some kind of third wheel to the pair. 

"Right! Down to business!" Gojo stood straight and lifted two fingers in front of him. You noticed how Gojo's voice sounded just a bit shaky as he removed his arm from Geto. "Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."

With his words, the dark veil began to cover the school. You felt a chill go up your spine as it always had when curses were near. You cradled yourself as the nerves came back, eyes darting around to see if you could see the curse anywhere close. 

"You okay, Y/N?" Geto came to your side and spoke calmly as Gojo meandered about the schoolyard on his own. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and could easily feel the slight shakes that had overcome your body.

"Y-yeah, I'll be fine. Just need a second," you nodded, meeting eyes with Geto - his gaze one of concern and yours one of worry. 

"Don't worry," he reassured you with a smile, easing his serious expression, "you'll do great. And I'm sure you'll impress Satoru."

"I hope so," you sounded less than confident as you looked toward Gojo who suddenly looked back to meet your gaze. You swallowed hard. Your emotions could easily mess up your technique. You needed to remain as calm as possible if you were going to succeed. 

"You've got this," Geto repeated and began walking toward Gojo.

It was then that you felt the presence begin to emerge, its large claws grasping the courtyard grass as it came up from whatever Hell it was inhabiting. It had a body as black as midnight, no eyes in sight - just a singular large mouth, gaping with hundreds of shark-like teeth.  You were completely frozen in fear. Gojo and Geto stood behind, looking upward at the large beast in action stances, ready to help should you need it. 

"Y/N!" Geto shouted in your direction, noticing its speed - something that you didn't. "You need to move now if you're going to kill this thing!" You still stood frozen, as if you didn't hear Geto's warning. "Y/N!" He shouted even louder. "MOVE!" 

You shook your head to snap out of it, quickly putting your palm against the ground to initiate your attack. Your technique involved the manipulation of electricity, any that you could find you could send coursing through your target to stun them. From there, you'd be able to deliver the fatal blow with your weapon of choice: Sai. (AN: I wrote this chapter before the latest chapter of the manga came out. In no way is Y/N inspired by Hajime lmao, just a coincidence.) Unfortunately, just as the creature froze in place and you darted in its direction with your weapons unsheathed, it regained its mobility. When you had gotten close enough, it managed to swat at you - it's large hand easily smacking you with great force. 

You felt your body flying through the air in a sideways position, pain from the hit wracking your entire body made worse by what - or whom - you had hit. You swore you could hear something crack. As your bodies met, grunts from you both, you flung to the ground. You tried your best to pick your body up as Geto coughed while he caught his breath. 

Gojo was already way on the creature, the second one also spawning and coming toward your platinum-haired savior full force. 

"Are you alright?" Geto asked softly as he laid flat on his back. You were holding yourself up perpendicularly to his body with your head turned toward his, the closest the two of you had ever been. "That was quite the hit."

"I should ask you the same thing," you smiled and looked in his direction, out of breath as well. Geto prepared to take another breath, the pain a bit too much from the look of his intense wince. "Sugu-"

"Suguru, Y/N!" Gojo called out as he lightly jogged over to the two of you, interrupting your apology. The veil he created began to dissipate as he managed to defeat both creatures on his own with ease. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, for the most part," Geto answered as Gojo held out his hand for you to take. You blushed and placed a delicate hand in his. You winced as you stood, knowing that you, too, had cracked a few ribs. It was clear that Geto was a little worse off based on his attempts to get up on his own.

"You probably should get checked out when we get back. I'm sure Shoko would be more than happy to take a look," Gojo chuckled as he watched Geto slowly get to his feet on his own and dust off his pants. 

"That's the plan," Geto agreed with a strained voice, placing a hand at the side of his ribcage.

The speed you had gained from the creature's hit caused you to smack into him much harder than how you were hit, making his injuries a bit more severe than your own. But the guilt you felt weighed much heavier than the pain that he was in, the heaviness in your chest the marker of that. You felt a desperate need to fall on the floor in front of him and beg for forgiveness, but you figured it wasn't the time.

Gojo quickly went to the car to make the call to the higher ups that the creature had been vanquished, and to provide a progress report to Yaga on your performance.  Meanwhile, you stayed behind as Geto sat down on a bench with a pained look on his face. He was trying to take deep breaths to test just how badly he had hurt his ribcage. 

"I...can help," you offered in a small voice, sitting down next to him on the bench. 

"Yeah?" Geto wondered, a bit of doubt in his voice. "How?"

"Well...ya' know, electrical pulses," you shrugged. "I can lightly stimulate your nerves to help with your pain, at least the muscle pain that you have. Just, um..., lift up your shirt." Geto appeared to be interested in the help you had to offer.

You felt your own nerves, emotional nerves, become on edge as his fingers curled around the edges of his shirt and pull it up. His muscles were clearly defined, your shaking digits finding their way against his warm flesh. You could already see the start of deep, purple bruises on his ribcage. It just made you feel all the more guilty.

"It's going to feel a little funny at first," you mumbled and began letting the electrical current you could generate lightly charge your fingertips. 

"I'll say..." Geto gave a single, anxious laugh as you let the small pulses flow into his body. You could see his muscles tense up with the stimuli. "But...I think it's working."

"Good," you smiled happily to yourself. "I usually do this to help with my cramps. It works most of the time."

"Guys!" You heard Gojo suddenly calling from the car. His voice shocked the two of you, causing you to immediately bring your hands back and Geto to pull his shirt down with more force than needed. "Let's go! Long ride back!" 

"Sorry about hitting you," you apologized when you were back in the car on the way back to campus, the first of many apologies you had planned out. It was Gojo's turn to be asleep, his head against the backseat window while you and Geto chatted. 

"No worries," he chuckled and winced, "not like you could've helped it. That thing was intense."

"Yeah," you looked down toward your lap, clenching your fists, "I guess this means I won't be recommended for first grade."

"Not yet at least," Geto shrugged, "but that doesn't really mean too much." It was clear he was just saying that to help you feel better. What grade you were had a large hand in how much you'd get paid as a sorcerer - and what kind of jobs you'd be assigned. 

"Sure," you sighed and began biting the inside of your cheek. "I got nowhere with him today."

"Of course you did!" He again reassured you. "You had a good conversation on the way here. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He helped you up. It was a great start! And we've still got plenty of time."

"Sure," you repeated, staring down at your hands pathetically placed in your lap. You could feel your ribcage pulsing with each breath you took, a reminder that Geto had it much worse. Your face flushed with anxiety over this realization. 

"Don't give up hope yet, Y/N," Geto smiled before closing his eyes and leaning back on the headrest.

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru getou x reader #suguru getou x you #suguru getou x y/n #getou #geto #suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru getou #getou suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[revelisms]

A little ramble on 'a lark sings' because a) things are rough rn and b) as much as I am continually tinkering with this thing, it has been a gradual comfort by the day (and I love these two, for all their messiness).

Alessio chose their name partly as a reclamation for a sense of self that had often felt overlooked and disempowered, and partly as a nod to their grandfather, Alessandro, who they spent much of their childhood summers with.

They'd always had an interest in the occult, but having grown up with deeply religious (and superstitious) parents—and, later, husband—it was never something they could comfortably pursue.

As a byproduct of that, they grew up in the church, and spent much of their early years ping-ponged between half-friendships with the choir children and nosy, philosophical ramblings with one of the church's deacons—who, oddly enough, peaked their interest in accounting as a day job. They remember him fondly, and miss his laugh. He was always kind to them, and gave them a quiet space to feel free in different roles ("And who am I speaking with, today? The High Wizard Felipe?")

They're a deceptively great singer, but can't dance to save their life (they rarely attempt either in public); teasing is a love language, though, and mischief is second-nature. It's what had them stumbling into Terzo's outer circle, so quickly, and why the two became genuine friends.

Speaking of—they met the then-Cardinal a bit delayed into their entrance to the Ministry (after a funeral, a nasty divorce, and a long-overdue exploration of their relationship to their identity and body). They'd heard of him, certainly—with nothing short of a exasperated edge by Papa Secondo, who at the time had been their boss's boss—but had their first conversation after quite literally tripping over him and a stray brother of sin flirting up a storm in the hallway.

(Terzo had, politely, told them to get lost; they'd barked back that a hallway was a public space, and Hell forbid someone use it (to his amusement: "Why, yes—someone is using it. And unless you'd like a show, Sibling, I'd suggest you use it, as well.") Needless to say, they had...impressions of each other.)

The next morning, to their utter dismay, they'd found themself shoulder-to-shoulder with him in one of their staff meetings. He'd clocked them immediately, and droned off into his usual spiel—but for their surface-level annoyances, they'd been surprised with how kind he actually was (advice for tailors, community spaces and downtown clubs, fellow staff and siblings they could speak to about their journey in the Ministry—including, of course, himself.)

More and more run-ins found them in his airspace, until he became a regular appearance in their day-to-day. They'd often share snacks, work gossip and snarky jokes, and eventually became a notorious duo for staging absolute mayhem across the halls (at, naturally, Terzo's instigation).

Ale started to see more beneath the grandeur of his persona, over the years, and came to realize he was a deeply insecure, guarded and sensitive person, who just wanted to help people; to leave them feeling confident in themselves and loved. It was a mirror reflection to themself they hadn't expected—and one they increasingly found themselves drawn to, out of that shared understanding. He intrinsically sees so much of them, in ways they didn't know they needed to be seen.

Cue mega-denial, on both sides—Ale had closed the door to potential romances for years, focusing instead fully and neededly on themself for a time, and hadn't dared to think they may want something with him; Terzo, meanwhile, had gone through too much heartbreak and surveillance at the hands of the church to consider pursuing anything serious again (not since Omega, which was an utter disaster on the clergy side), and is deeply worried of tarnishing the ease of their relationship by nature of being him, as he views the underbelly of himself, in all its unguarded ugliness.

(What he doesn't realize, or initially allow himself to accept, is that Ale is equally flawed, spiteful, at times irrational, and quick to anger—but they see that in him, and sympathize with it, and are willing to help him through it, as they needed at earlier stages of their life. The issue there is just his willingness to let them in—which he is, in many ways, and for many reasons, terrified of.)

Despite that, most of the clergy (and his brothers—Copia, in particular) are waiting for the pin to drop, because these two are insufferable. I'm talking blatantly flirty jokes, ear-to-ear grins, snickering at the stupidest things, absolute goo-goo eyed soft-smiled adoration with each other, and they put a slice of balance the table neither of them have truly had.

(In its most abridged version—Terzo is the sunlight to Ale's gloom and the supernova to their passion, as much as they are a tether to his reckless nature and a grounding force to his inner anxiety. Their bedroom chemistry is also insane, but we won't talk about that. Neither have they, because Terzo would probably combust on the spot, and Ale would have their claws in him in an instant.)

It's a long and rocky journey for both of them on uncovering how to ask for what you want, and how to feel freed by what you need, especially in the light of Terzo's elevated status and the ripple effects it has. But, despite their mutual difficulties, they both still intrinsically understand their walls: Terzo cannot be chained down, cannot be closed off to any one thing, he is ever-constant and outpouring and so fearful of being too much, but to Ale he is everything—and Ale cannot be boxed in, dreads the thought of being limited by perception, of being unwanted for all they have to give, as they are so worried they will be again, but Satan does Terzo want them, always.

The resolution will probably be sloppy and sad ("I've made you feel this way? No, no, no—you are...everything I could ask for, and more—") or ferocious and desperate ("You want to put up with the tours? With my father breathing down your neck? With this? Don't you dare say yes to that. No one in the right mind should say yes to that—"), but irregardless, it will likely come from Terzo, because it has always had to, and because it's ultimately his fear being unpacked here.

But the light of it all, the tying thread to this is that they are both two deeply wounded, still healing, and still joyful characters who are worthy of love—in all their pettiness, their hurt, their tenderness, their care—as they always have been: both from themselves, and, ultimately, from each other.

#a lark sings #rambles #papa iii x oc #terzo x oc #the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #yes i'm having writer's block shh #let me just...get emotional about them again #guh #this is why i shouldn't write romance #it's just me slapping a book over the head saying you deserve love and tenderness for 50k #hasn't been this bad since my kurofai era and whoo let's not unpack THAT

[ahdenyadahling]

Final Fantasy- Fate & Destiny

Chapter Two, Part Two

A scream finally escaped me and I kicked my legs as hard as I could. The tongue came loose, leaving a trail of burning saliva. I pushed with my arms against the garden hoe, keeping those teeth at bay. I hardly noticed I had been pushed back a few more feet while I struggled. And then it happened- the hoe broke in two. The Voretooth didn’t expect it either, and it fell clumsily forward, shaking its head free from the wooden bits left in its maw. I rolled away, the two broken pieces still clenched in my fists. I screamed again, shocked and frightened out of my mind as the other two Voretooths leaped at me. I hit one in the nose and the other under the chin as I scrambled over the wet grass for the safety of the tree. Lightning struck again, momentarily lighting the way for me. I didn’t waste breath screaming this time, I needed to dedicate my energy into running for my life. Throwing my broken weapon aside, I readied my hands for climbing branches. The beasts were a foot, maybe less, from me, snapping at my heels and climbing and clamoring over each other in an attempt to reach me first. I didn’t dare waste time looking behind me; I had my eyes on the tree trunk. I took a running leap from the trunk itself to the first branch, nearly missing as my shoe skidded against the wet bark. Yet I made it. I was prematurely proud of myself for that small achievement. With the last of my adrenaline, I pulled myself up onto the branch, swinging my legs over, straddling it, taking a moment to catch my breath.

It was a moment too long, I soon realized, as they fought and writhed only a few feet below me. I pulled my legs to my chest, trying to balance my tomboyish body on this thin branch. One jumped, snapping a twig at my feet, and I shouted out in panic. My body was trembling with fear and exhaustion, but I knew I had to keep moving. I had to get higher quickly. And I recognized too late, this tree was not meant for climbing. It was too thin, the branches spaced too far apart, but it was the only option I had at the time. Carefully, holding onto the slick truck for support, I rose to my feet and wiped the sweat and rain from my face, pushing my short hair back from my eyes. Another beast jumped, and I screamed in terror as it tried to pull me down. My hands slipped as the Voretooth gained purchase on my pant leg, tearing it to shreds. Somehow, I regained my balance on that slippery platform of a branch, my legs feeling like jelly, my hands latched onto wet bark in a death grip, and I was sure tears were streaming down my face. I shouldn’t have looked down, but I did. I stared at the snapping jaws and sharp teeth of those Voretooths and knew that with one misstep, I was a goner. The thought of my mother alone at home, worrying about me, steeled my resolve for a moment more. I stood on tiptoe to reach the next branch. My fingers brushed it several times before I could gather the courage to shuffle along this trapeze wire disguised as a branch for a better grip. As soon as I thought I had a strong enough grip, both hands clinging for dear life, I heard several snaps. The most tragic was the limb I was standing on giving way, the Voretooths jaws snapping in hopes I was falling along with it.

“Help me! Somebody! Help!” I screamed until my voice became hoarse. I couldn’t lift myself any higher onto this branch I was dangling on; I wasn’t strong enough. I was reaching the end of my limit. My arms were shaking with exertion, but I tried a different tactic. I began to swing my legs to hopefully give me some momentum, like I would miraculously perform some acrobatic feat, but I didn’t get too far. The first bite I felt took my entire shoe off. Luckily, it was just my shoe and some skin off my ankle.

The second bite was much more serious. One of those beasts had leaped high enough to reach my knee, but since I had been swinging, it didn’t latch on hard enough to break my leg off. It did shred my left leg down to the bone, peeling the skin like paper. My blood drenched the earth below, and I screamed again, my fists tightening on the dampened branch, my sight not darkening, but glowing a painful white.

“Somebody help me!” I thought I had shouted it, but as I opened my eyes, my voice was just a murmur. Through the rain, I thought I saw movement, shadows. Below me, somebody was fighting those beasts. I heard shouts, weapons meeting and tearing flesh, gunshots.

“Let go!” a voice called up to me. “I’ve got you! Let go!”

Glancing down, all I saw were two pale arms outstretched, a mop of yellow hair and dark clothes. I don’t think I let go of the tree so much as my fingers simply slipped off, and I fell into some stranger’s waiting arms.

His voice seemed muffled, but I think I was losing consciousness at that point, “Aw shit, she’s hurt pretty bad—”

“Prompto!” a gruff voice called out in warning.

My savior rolled us onto the ground and without hesitation, he shielded my body with his thin frame and fired his gun twice. The last Voretooth fell over dead beside us.

“You saved me,” I whispered to him. He leaned over me with concern on his pale face, and I saw him clearly for just a moment: his bright blond hair, styled in some sort of sideways spike, still standing even in this rain. His heavy-lidded eyes were as clear and blue as a summer day. Freckles ran across his button nose. And as I closed my eyes against the pain and exhaustion, I knew those words I spoke were meaningful. One way or another, this boy was either my Fate or Destiny.

#final fantasy xv #finalfantasyxvau #crownsguard #gladio #ignis #noctis #prompto #final fantasy #chocobros #voretooth #action

[chocosvt]

love café

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t believe he was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To a degree, you were correct.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, you needed access to a computer.

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

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

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

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

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

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

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired. Aching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

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

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

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

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

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

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

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not a big deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah.”

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

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

“The Shower what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Twelve am.

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

However, tonight was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The red velvet cake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

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

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

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

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

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

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

“Later!” He’d called.

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

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

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

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

Joshua bumped your elbow.

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

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

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shush up and try this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

“… What?”

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

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

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

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

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

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

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

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

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

You looked at your alarm clock.

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

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

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

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

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

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

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

[kageyamatobiyogurt]

haikyuu boys being tied pt. 1 (nsfw)

a/n: did i make it in time for kinktober? hehe. been wanting to do this for a min. also i have akaashi and atsumu in the making for this too lmao — will try to post those within this month.

sakusa kiyoomi

honestly you wanted to try it but actually carrying out the idea was a bit intimidating

your boyfriend naturally came off more dominant and both of you liked it

when you brought up the idea he was so quiet that you were surprised when he just gave you a nod

it was going against his nature but he always wanted to try for you

though you couldn’t miss the way his pupils were blown and the way his stare felt so heavy

also bold of you to assume you kept the control the whole time

-

You’d gently gotten him to lay down on the bed, kissing him deeply and tangling your hands in his hair.

You straddled his lap as his hands gripped onto your hips, squeezing tightly as he groaned into your mouth. Then you held onto the hem of his shirt, lifting to peel it off of him. Your hands traced down his deliciously toned chest, gently pushing it to tell him to lay down.

Kiyoomi complied as he was so focused on kissing you. What was about to happen almost slipped his mind.

“Hands up, omi,” you almost whispered against his lips, gently tugging his wrists upwards.

He let out this guttural whine from the back of his throat as you sucked his neck. That one particular spot always made him a little weak.

Then you sat up a little, focusing to tie the ropes securely but not tight enough to cut off circulation. He looked up as your hands tied his, almost as if he was calculating.

Kiyoomi looked oh so beautiful splayed out underneath you, wrists tied above his head. He even did a few test tugs to see if he could get out if he wanted to.

Somehow when he realized he couldn’t, he felt his cock get harder.

“Hmm, so what now, Omi?” you teased. Knowing you didn’t have the upper hand often, you might as well enjoy it.

Your hands traced lines down from his jaw, to his neck, to his chest which rose and fell deeply. You paused when you made it to his adonis belt, tracing the sharp line carefully.

“Do something,” he said simply, his tone unreadable. You couldn’t tell if it was a command or a plea.

You leaned down to kiss his lips again, unable to fight the smirk when he whined as you ground your core into his crotch.

Even though it was no use, he found himself attempting to pull out of the restraints, hands too accustomed to being all over you. Even when you reached down to palm and squeeze him through his shorts it wasn’t enough, not even close.

“Tease me longer and see what happens when my hands are free,” he suddenly warned, voice much lower. You nodded and gave him another quick peck to his lips as if to say I know. But a small part of you was tempted to see what he would do if you made him wait longer.

You lifted yourself off of him, pulling his shorts and underwear down too. His cock was finally free and resting on his lower stomach. Pre cum was leaking from its tip from every ministration.

As you removed your clothes tantalizingly slowly, Kiyoomi’s stare burned into you. You bent over to the side purposefully, giving him the view of your ass as you pulled down your underwear too. You could’ve sworn his cock twitched at the sight of you. 

“God, these were a mistake,” he almost growled, tugging at the ties around his wrist despite knowing that it was useless. You chuckled but his face was serious. 

You crawled back on top of him, grinding your slick core against his length. You would have kissed him again but he pulled away, whining, “fuck, please, do something,” 

“Well since you asked so nicely, Omi,” you teased, but complied, wanting him inside you anyway. 

You took his cock and positioned him at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, knowing it always burned a little bit at first given his length. You noticed how he closed his eyes and sighed in relief. 

It was unbelievable. With the rolling of your hips, his chest rose heavily, how fucking tight you were gripping him and the way your hands roamed over his chest sent his head spinning. 

Then seeing you above him was something else on its own. He adored watching where you two were connected, knowing how you tried your best to make him fit.

This position was one of your favorites, how deep he plunged into you and the pace you set for yourself was too delicious. You couldn’t help but pant and groan with your efforts when Kiyoomi’s cock hit all the right places. 

When he noticed that your bouncing was getting messier, he took it as his opportunity to do something. He shifted his legs just so he could plant his feet flat on the bed. This way, he could use his legs to fuck up into you. 

He wished he could replay the way your eyes opened at the surprise of his cock suddenly plunging into you so swiftly. His abs would flex as he thrust up into you. You instinctively held onto him as he overtook your pace even though he was the one technically tied down.

It appears he was never fully under your control. 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu characters #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #hq #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa smut #haikyuu kinktober #kinktober #haikyuu smut

[yandere-sins]

Good evening or morning (wherever you are).... My request for today is Kaeya from genshin impact. What if he were to confess his love to a timid reader but *gasps* she reveals she has a boyfriend already. Smut is fine if you want.

Thank you so much 🦋

Thank you for requesting!! ♥ Part 2 of my trying to get back into smut OTL

Rated Lemon/Explicit!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««   

Even after everything that happened, you weren't able to forget the look on Kaeya's face as you broke the news.

True, you and your boyfriend had wanted to keep your relationship on the low, but not because you tried to deceive your friends, just so you two could have some peace while finding out more about each other and developing your feelings. But you never meant for anyone to look at you so... disappointed. Even if you were happy with your choice of partner, having to reject someone dear to you still hurt.

"Oh, [Name]," Kaeya sighed, shaking his head. Of course, he wouldn't be happy to hear the person he just asked out confess that they had a boyfriend. Perhaps especially because you two had always been relatively close, even more so lately where you were out almost every day after work. You felt a tinge of regret not telling him earlier. Save him the embarrassment you assumed he must feel. Then again, how could you have known that the charismatic Kaeya had feelings for you? He could have any woman in town, so why had it to be you? Of all people, you wouldn't have expected Kaeya to confess his love to you. Even if you two always got along fine, you thought yourself to look rather gray next to the shining knight that Kaeya was. Someone who wasn't fit to be anything more than friends with him.

"W-We can still continue being friends?" was the best and stupidest comfort you could come up with on the spot. You saw his grimace of disapproval, and it took him a second to collect himself, taking a deep breath before pushing himself away from the wall he had leaned on after learning the truth. Kaeya truly appeared devastated by the realization that you were taken already, and part of you could understand him. Certainly, you had just ruined his night and whatever companionship you two had, just because you couldn't have been more open from the beginning. It would have at least saved him some heartache, if any.

"Friends?" Kaeya mumbled, unfolding his crossed arms as he walked back to your side, leaning on the backrest of your chair. Feeling uncomfortably cornered, you stood up, looking around you. The outside of the tavern was lonely, and Kaeya had chosen this place for his confession surely to avoid any curious listeners. There were still voices coming from inside Angel's Share, but the streets of Mondstadt were quiet at this time of the night, with only his smooth voice reaching out to you. "With all due respect..."

Wrapping his fingers around your chin, you were forced to look up, staring right back into the mocking expression of your 'friend', the mood suddenly shifting. You had regretted having to reject Kaeya's feelings before, Kaeya always having been a good friend to you and hurting him felt wrong. But you would come to regret it much more that you went outside with him, away from the safety of the masses.

"I'd rather be anything else than your 'friend'."

»»————————

"Come on, Dove! Say it! I'm better than him, aren't I?"

"N-No--"

Your attempt to refuse this assumption was meekly interrupted by your loud gasps as Kaeya pushed forward. The curve on his cock was so perfectly aligned inside of you, constantly hitting the good spots whenever he plowed it inside. A cocky grin was on his face as he showed you off in the reflection of the mirror before you, spread over his legs and hanging in his grip on you. It was the biggest taunt he could think of, constantly reminding you how good you were feeling despite your initial refusal of him.

The image inside of the mirror wasn't one you had ever seen of yourself. That sweaty, drooling mess of a human, eyes unfocused and yet filled with pleasure, was nothing you could relate to. And yet, except for the occasional blue strands of hair falling over your skin and peeking out from behind your shoulder, your brain recognized the sight as you. Still, it was hard to accept this side of yourself, especially with his marks and hands. All. Over. It.

Kaeya only laughed as you tried to refute him, smirking a cocky grin from behind you. "Oh? Did Mr. Boyfriend not touch you yet? Even though you're such a little slut?"

His hand falling between your legs, Kaeya first brushed up your thighs, causing you to squirm from the sensation. His hands were trained and roughed up from handling swords, but the way he used them showed how skilled he was. Settling at your clit, he slowed down the rocking of his hips for a moment to get his fingers wet with your juices before picking up the pace again. There was no way you could deny how you were feeling after riding him for the better portion of time ever since he brought you to this city apartment of his, your body shivering and moving on its own with his hand teasing your clit, the additional pleasure riling you up.

"Look at your cunt gaping open for me~" he purred, opening your lower lips wide for the mirror to reflect your exposed entrance. Seeing how his shaft disappeared inside you clearly, you only felt hotter from embarrassment, turning your head which was quickly caught by his free hand, Kaeya turning it forward again - painfully so. His grip wasn't even close to how he had touched you before when you two had still been 'only' drinking buddies. You weren't sure how long he had feelings for you, but you wagered that these feelings must have changed much in the last hour, just like his touch. It once had been so gentle, kind. But now, it was rough and demanding, leaving no room for how you felt.

"Let go!" you said firmly, tearing yourself from his grip to avoid looking at this strange self in the reflection. You felt ashamed and embarrassed. Kaeya made a fool out of you, now that he had you in this peculiar situation. It's not like you wanted to cheat on your boyfriend and betray him in any kind. But your body reacted positively to it, making Kaeya chuckle as you tightened around him after seeing yourself, "You are enjoying it a lot, aren't you?"

It brought tears to your eyes, knowing it was Kaeya deeply lodged inside of you, but your sobs were just another incentive for him to continue. You couldn't even blame him for that - they did sound a lot like sounds of pleasure that overtook their place. Soon you were back to gasping and moaning, glad you at least weren't begging him for more with how shameful you behaved.

"You can still leave him," Kaeya suggested. Though a smile still played around his lips before he hid them behind your shoulder, kissing it tenderly, he sounded very serious. "Leave him and stay with me. No one needs to know what kind of slut you are, going behind his back."

"But I didn't!" you sobbed. "You forced me too-- You forced yourself on me!"

Without hearing the sigh falling off Kaeya's lips, you found yourself breathing in sharply as he made a sudden push, burying his cock even deeper inside of you, the base of it touching your body. The gasp was followed by a long moan, tears streaming down your face after he exploited your sensitivity so much. It was a regrettable, disgusting moan signaling how much you enjoyed him hitting these sweet spots of yours.

Your gaze fell back to the mirror, showing the pleasure-stricken expression on your face. Even though you knew you shouldn't feel this way, Kaeya simply seemed to know all the right things to do, and he used all of them. It was bitter, but he did make you feel... erotic. Made you feel like something you never saw yourself as. Something your boyfriend couldn't make you feel.

With him, it was sugary-sweet puppy love, but with Kaeya, there was so much more. Desire, carnal at that. Love, demands, obsession. No matter how either of you moved your body, it was exciting, making your heart race. Every glance at yourself in the mirror made your body tingle, and every one of his pushes sent waves of excitement up your spine. You wished to have experienced these things with the person you truly loved instead of the hawk watching you from behind.

"I know," he mumbled, his hands driving up from your pussy to your chest, giving your breasts an equal squeeze. Taking in a sharp breath, you held back, instead having Kaeya be the one to groan lowly into your shoulder as you tightened around him. "I'll take so much better care of you than that boy. I can make you your true self, don't you think? You're wasted on everyone but me."

"Just finish it," you breathed heavily, and Kaeya sighed.

"As you wish."

Picking you up by the legs, Kaeya hoisted you up into the air, taking a few steps forward to stand right in front of the mirror. It was a breathtaking sensation to feel his cock carving you out from the dynamic motions, your walls gladly welcoming every inch before confining his member inside. You really could do without a closer look at how his cock slid in and out of you, sloppy sounds and tingling sensations running through you, but it almost made you wonder if you'd be able to experience the same sensations that Kaeya put you through, ever again once this was over.

"Hope you're ready for what you wished for," he reminded you, and you instantly began to realize alarming innuendos in his choice of words and the teasing tone of his voice, struggling in his hold.

"N-Not inside!" you yelled at him, slinging one arm over his head to be the one to tightly grip his face this time. "You can't cum inside!"

"Oh, really?" he taunted you. You squeezing his cheeks together didn't change the fact that he could grin like a Cheshire cat out of fairytales. "Give me one good reason not to."

"I can't bear your baby! I just can't!"

Grinning even wider, Kaeya let you drop a few inches to kiss your nose. "You'll need to do better than that."

Biting your lip, you thought about what he could want to hear from you, eventually realizing the level you'd have to stoop to. A baby would ruin everything, especially if it was Kaeya's baby. Even if things wouldn't turn out the worst way possible, it would still be a lifelong reminder of this ordeal he put you through. Your pride was worth nothing in exchange for the future you always wanted to have.

"P-Please..." you mumbled, the quick pace with which he was ramming into you making it hard to speak. At the same time, it urged you to hurry, as it wouldn't be long now before he'd fulfill the deed inside of you.

"I can't hear you~"

"Please don't cum inside me!"

Halting abruptly, Kaeya looked at the mirror image of you two, thinking for a split second before he resumed the pounding--this time, determined to finish. It was almost like you were hit by thunder, every movement releasing more shocks through you. You were a panting mess, but Kaeya wasn't far from it either. His eye would close halfway as he sunk into pleasure with you, both of you falling deeper and deeper into this hole.

Until it was finally over, your body curving and stretching, Kaeya's grip tightening to hold you throughout your orgasm, fingers digging into your supple thighs. Closing your eyes, you felt like flying, carried by a cloud, away from all the bad things and surrounded by the comforts and excitement that only intimacy could cause. You were almost lost in the orgasm before a part of you recalled the danger that was Kaeya, but much to your relief, when you opened your eyes again, he pushed in deep for the last time before suddenly lifting your up and off his cock.

Spurts of white semen shot through the air, landing on your reflection's stomach almost exactly where it would have landed inside of you. Both of you huffing, exhausted and spent, you watched as it dripped off the slick surface, leaving its stains there rather than inside of you.

Kaeya finally dropped you down, your legs unsteady, but his hold never ceased and kept you up. "Thank you..." you muttered, finding it hard to believe that after all he did, you were still thanking him for not cumming inside. Finding yourself in his arms rather than the ground, you refused the kiss he wanted to plant on your lips, instead turning your cheek, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind.

"I think you owe me something," he whispered into your ear before you felt his teeth bit into your lobe, making you flinch. "I did pull out like you asked me to."

"I owe you nothing, you... you bastard! You fiend! You...!" Your feelings took the upper hand as you heard what he demanded from you now. It was hard not to raise your voice when he dared to tell you about what you owed him after taking you against your will.

Laughing out loud, Kaeya quickly composed himself again, pretending to be hurt. "Ouch. I didn't know you knew these kinds of words."

A sudden rough pull in your hair yanked your head back, your body arching under the force and pressing against his while Kaeya towered over you, never letting his gaze stray from you. "Call me what you want. I don't care what you think, I'm not your friend, remember? I am anything but your stupid, little friend."

This time he took your mouth as he pleased, ramming his lips into yours and slipping his tongue down your throat. When he finally spoke again, his words were nothing but threatening to you, an anxious knot building in your stomach.

"That's why you'll break up with that asshole, you understand?"

"Why would I! Just leave me alone! You had what you wanted!"

"You still don't understand it," Kaeya sighed, releasing your hair briefly before tangling it around his fingers again, pulling you back even further and making you fear your spine would snap. "You are what I want! You belong to me! I was nice this time, but I will change if I must. Break up with him and make it easy for both of you. And then you'll come back to warm my bed, understand?"

Gulping, you put on a brave face, trying to face his stare head-on. This was getting out of control; you couldn't let him win with all his endeavors! No matter how you thought about Kaeya before, this wasn't the man you had come to like and appreciate in the past. He was something, but you could only hope it was still a human.

"And what if I don't?" you asked, using all the courage left inside of you.

"Oh darling, believe me," he laughed, unexpectedly pulling away all of his hands, your body unable to keep itself up and plummeting to the floor. Instant waves of shock and pain hit you, but when he stepped between your legs, you couldn't help but look up to him. How could you have been so wrong about a person you spent so much time with? Who was this man claiming to love you?

"You will do as I say, or everyone will know what kind of slut you really are. Especially your fine boyfriend. Who do you think the people will believe - their charming cavalry captain or some random chick that was seen laughing and hanging around him a lot?"

You opened your mouth to protest, wanting to prove him wrong, wanting to tell him Mondstadt cared about you as much as they did about him. But... was this wrong to assume? Would they really believe your word against his? With a reputation like Kaeya had, would you stand a chance to win against him? You couldn't imagine living a different life than you had so far, so would you be able to deal with the branding of a cheater? Realizing these questions, you closed your mouth again, scrambling to get up and collect your clothes from the ground. You were ready to storm out of the room, just go home and forget about everything that happened but reaching for the doorknob, Kaeya approached you from behind, holding the door shut with his hand.

"Don't hate me too much, okay? I really, really love you, [Name]."

He sounded anxious as he whispered these words against your head, leaving a trail of kisses. How could you believe this? How could you believe any of what he was saying? Just now, he had forced you into a level of intimacy you hadn't been ready for, threatened you, and made demands. And now he came to you, showing these rare moments of vulnerability and insecurity that made you special before all of this went down. What could you still believe about Kaeya?

"This isn't love," you mumbled, twisting and turning the knob to leave, deciding you couldn't listen to his voice anymore.

"You'll come to understand that this is love," Kaeya chuckled. You could hear the bittersweet smile on his lips as he planted one more kiss on top of your shoulder before he pushed himself away, letting you escape into the night.

Only when the cold, fresh air engulfed your heated body could you finally collect your thoughts. Your body ached, and yet, it tingled with every step, remembering you of the pleasure you had experienced through him. Disgusted and appalled by yourself, you made your way back home, crying the whole time, wondering what went wrong.

It was all Kaeya's fault, right? He went mad and did these unspeakable things to you. He was jealous because you had a boyfriend already and rejected him. None of this was your fault... right? But at the same time, would he make these threats come true? Was there really no other way than to break up with your boyfriend? Could you do nothing but obey his demands if you wanted to keep living your life? Was the love he had for you really love?

These questions kept you up all night.

All while Kaeya sipped on his drink, satisfied with himself, studying the image of you he had in his mind and the cum stains on his mirror. Stains he only planned to add to but never get rid of.

Just like you'd never get rid of him.

#Kaeya #Kaeya Alberich #Kaeya genshin #yandere!kaeya #yandere kaeya #Genshin #Genshin Impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere!genshin #yandere!genshin impact #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #Lemon

[redrobin-detective]

Ben 10 lore that exists in my heart regardless of canon

- Ben’s personality in his mid-late teens is a mix of his Alien Force and Omniverse self. On the surface, he’s very cheerful and kind even if he is a bit of arrogant showoff. He makes jokes and plays around and acts as if he isn’t bothered by the things in his life. Those who know him best understand a good portion of his outward confidence and cockiness is just a facade to cover up his insecurities and to project the ideal, effortless hero. While sometimes seen as immature, most beings know Ben 10 means business as he takes his unofficial job and people’s safety very seriously. He’s clever, adaptable, charismatic and empathetic which makes him a formidable opponent and a loyal friend. Doesn’t open up easily but if you get to him, he become so dearly attached. 

- Drinks smoothies so much for several reasons. Comfort food go brrr, reminds him of the good easy times with him Gwen and Kev. It’s also a light but generally nutritous food to give him energy for heroing. Anything too heavy and he’ll be puking (both from physical and emotional stress). Though he jokes about his mom’s health foods, his are a crazy concoction of add in proteins and vitamins/minerals bc he knows he’ll out and out collapse without it. (Still has on occasion bc boy still doesn’t eat right/enough)

- While Fame is exciting for him at first he soon begins to detest it. Not the fans, no, he can’t bring himself to hate the people who look up to him. But he hates the constant attention, that he can’t walk outside without being mobbed. the only place he feels safe is his hometown where most people are so used to him and his weirdness that they don’t react much anymore. Takes to wearing a cape and face shield when going out anywhere so he can actually get things done without being recognized and mobbed.

- Part of the reason Bellwood isn’t concerned with Ben is partially because ben’s been weird and alien for as long as they can remember but also many don’t realize how famous/powerful he is. Yeah that’s just Ben Tennyson over there, sometimes he turns into funny creatures- wait what do you MEAN he’s the savior of the universe?? He cried over a spilled smoothie the other day.

- Does mostly online schooling by the time he’s 15. At first he tries to do half day things to maintain something of a normal life but it quickly becomes overwhelming and dangerous him/the school. Finishes his GED early but the Plumbers and Azmuth make him take additional college level and alien courses to prepare him for his future role. Ben gripes but really does love learning all these things, especially on his terms (ADHD and stress + the public school system do not always go hand in hand). He’s a quick learner when he deems the information important and is made accessible to his learning needs.

- Ben definitely has ADHD speaking of which, it was nearly uncontrollable as a child bc his free-spirited parents didn’t believe in medicating. Ben convinced them he needed it and after some trial and error, found meds that worked. As he became more involved in heroics/growing up he had to change his medicine regimen (resulting in him being a bit more off the rails in OV) and needed antidepressants and therapy to manage it better. As an adult he has a whole litany of coping mechanisms (good and bad yes) and regularly checks in with his therapist and doctors to keep things under control. 

- Has a complicated relationship with his necrofriggian children. Considers himself their mother and worries after them. They too feel a connection to their parent despite this being unusual for their species. A few visit (some more than others) while they grow while others maintain distance. Ben never breathes a word of them to the media for fear of them being targeted. Still he keeps an eye on them and ensures all 14 mature to adulthood (another rarity for the species). Checks in every now and again with the ones who don’t want to see him and those that do. Two join the Plumbers and Ben is both proud and worried. His youngest becomes partners with Rook Ben.

- Just in general loves kids, they’re his favorite fans and while he’ll grumble at pushy adult fans he always smiles and kneels down for the little ones. Not so secretly wanted to have children of his own but knew it was a risk overall and used a lot of that energy with mentoring and teaching. Eventually had Kenny later in life (late 30s-40s) and was over the moon, becoming such a loving and doing parent or as much as he could be with his hectic schedule. 

- Omnitrix can’t come off, never has at any point since it first latched onto Ben’s arm. Azmuth tried and failed to get the device off, doesn’t let Ben know for many years as he feared the consequences. The watch loves and protects Ben even beyond it’s programming making him much more durable to damage and releasing energy charges when he’s threatened. Not even removing Ben’s arm would separate them. They’re stuck for life.

- Ben does have Anodite heritage but the Omnitrix actively suppresses it and uses the built up energy to power the transformations which is why ben is mostly unaffected by what should cause a massive energy drain on him. Theoretically if Ben learned to harness and safely use his Mana at an early age like Gwen he would have been fine but letting it build up without safe outlet meant activation would have killed him. Omnitrix Ben, however, went his whole life not knowing of his latent abilities and how the watch saved his life.

- Ben’s eyes get more green and glowy as time passes from the Omnitrix. At first they think its a trick of the light but by the time he’s an adult his eyes are pretty much glow in the dark. His veins light up too after long stretches of using the Omnitrix. Its vaguely unsettling to people who aren’t used to Ben.

- Max and the Earth Plumbers work so, so hard to keep teen Ben on Earth when half the universe is blowing up their comm lines asking for The Ben 10 to help with whatever problem of the day. Ben himself doesn’t quite understand when he’s younger the prestige and expectations on his shoulders. Max throws up a million and one roadblocks so Ben can live as normal a life as possible while he still can. Still, while doing that he Still overloads Ben with expectations and responsibilities on earth and beyond. He becomes a soldier again with Ben as their greatest weapon. He never forgave himself of losing sight of his grandson underneath the hero esp after Ben’s breakdown. 

- Rook partnership with Ben ends not long after Omniverse with his promotion to Magister. Ben tries to play it cool but the thought of another loved one/teammate leaving his tears him apart. Max revealing that Ben most likely wouldn’t get a new Plumber assigned partner since he’s almost an adult and won’t need it and Rook accidentally missing their last smoothie run due to a scheduling mishap causes Ben to snap and have the nervous breakdown that had been building for almost a decade. He completely loses it for a little while and needs to take an extended leave of absence from school and heroics that lasts about a year. Spends time recovering both on Earth and Galvan Prime, does some diplomatic training, learns about aliens, actually confronts the stress and loneliness of his life. He comes out the other side stronger but still fragile and exhausted.

- Ben’s above mentioned breakdown brings him closer to all his friends who didn’t quite realize the extent of Ben’s burden. Rook had been under the impression Ben didn’t like him all that much so the knowledge that his departure was the final straw for friend/hero’s collapse was shocking. Ben and Azmuth also become closer, the Galvan becoming fiercely protective of the boy seeing as his Earth family didn’t do well to keep him safe. It takes years for him to get over his anger at Max for putting so much on his grandchild. Ben makes more friends, in and out of the hero business, finally gets a therapist and gets some of his burdens eased a bit. It’s not a sure fire fix and Ben has several smaller breakdowns the rest of his life but its something.

- Azmuth was straight up suicidal before he met Ben for the first time. Ben gave him back hope for the universe and his ability to create items for peace not weapons. The boy infuriates him, frightens him, frustrates him but Azmuth cannot deny in his heart of hearts that he loves Ben dearly. He’s very upset at Ben’s breakdown and doesn’t know how to handle the worst of the initail outbursts. Azmuth talks Ben down from a suicide attempt. He reaches out to Ben that he Too felt overwhelmed by pressure, thought himself only good for war. Ben’s arrival in his life saved him and now he will do the same for Ben. It’s the first positive step forward in Ben’s recovery.

- For no other reason than I like it, Azmuth primarily refers to Ben as Benjamin (mostly to annoy the kid but he likes the way it sounds too) and Ben in softer, more serious moments. 

- Professor Paradox continues to flit in and out of Ben’s life. He says its because Ben is the most equipped to handle universal peril (true) but he’s also just very fond of the boy. Ben, existing in so many forms and having such importance also exists a beat outside of normal reality which Paradox identifies with. Ben is naturally attuned to time related problems because of this (instantly IDing Spanner as from the future before being told later deducing him to be his unborn son). Plus Ben named him, way back when. He’s just drawn to Ben.

- Adult Ben, while being seen as an impressively skilled fighter and champion, really has his strength as a universal diplomat of sorts. Based out of Earth, he helps mediate and defuse conflicts, advocate against tyranny and overall preserve peace and balance. He’s not perfect, he makes mistakes and sometimes is forced to become violent (and yes kill) but overall is regarded as a peacekeeper, something younger ben simply couldn’t understand. 

- Gwen gets her degree and primarily does work with advocacy and teaching about magic/alien culture. While she and Ben are still close, there’s a bit of a frustrated divide in that she isn’t helping him share the burden of the universe. Gwen never wanted to be a hero and has enough worth to not shackle herself to a job that’ll burn her out. Ben loves heroing but gives too much of himself away trying to fix everything. They get into screaming arguments that it wouldn’t be so bad out there if she just helped him but she refuses to budge and says he shouldn’t make himself do so much. They always make up and thy still are each other’s closest relationships.

- Ben marries Kai in a political move, Kai is Asexual and Ben Aromantic. They didn’t love each other but they got on well enough and Ben was really feeling the stress of carrying the hero burden so Kai also being involved made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Both were also so tired of the universe constantly asking about their love life and said ‘fuck it we’re married leave us alone’. Gwen was always mad about it feeling Ben deserved better but the two of them were happy with it. They had separate rooms, mostly separate lives but they became strong friends and supports with their strictly platonic marriage. They had Ken via Invitro in an incubator and were loving if extremely busy parents. 

- Also from the moment he appeared, Ben knew that Spanner was his future son, Kenny. He played ignorant and then was kind of deliberately teasing him in future encounters. He knew the rules of time and didn’t want to disrupt things further even if he was angry and worried as heck about why Ken felt the need to time travel. When future Ben catches up in the timeline, Kenny gets SUCH a lecture. 

- Ben isn’t quite immortal but he’s also not entirely human anymore either. The Omnitrix not only keeps him safe from most harm but it lightens the effect of aging. Ben 10 is active many, many years when most humans would have been forced to retire. He’s not sure how long the watch will keep him alive and it terrifies him. Gwen too is functionally immortal however she ages like a normal human, then when her natural death came, shed her skin and became a fulltime Anodite. So in the end, it was her and Ben together wondering which of them will die first. Gwen has trouble retaining her humanity as pure energy and swears she’ll let herself fizzle out when Ben goes. When that’ll be however...

#Ben 10 #this took sooo long whoops #i wanna write about ben's breakdown so mad you have no idea

[lexosaurus]

Birthmark

Phic Phight oneshot for @datawyrms: Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone.

---

“Shit,” Valerie cursed, deactivating her hoverboard and gently placing the figure on the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Bright green liquid soaked the ghost’s body, dripping off his waist and painting the grass in a steady stream. It was ectoplasm, something inhuman and twisted, and yet when Valerie looked down, all she saw was how closely it resembled blood. 

She raised a shaking hand and attempted to brush away some of the green on her suit. But she looked more green than red at this point and all she could think of was how much ectoplasm was outside the ghost’s body. 

It was too much.

They’d been ambushed after a ghost fight, the Guys in White having caught them in one of their special nets. Valerie had tried to yell out that she wasn’t a ghost, she was human, but it was no use. They zapped the net, and her vision was shrouded in darkness.

The next thing she knew, she was in a van, trapped with her biggest rival in Amity Park. Phantom was awake, but he didn’t know how long they’d been in the van for. Hours passed before the van stopped at last. But at that point, they had a plan.

As soon as an operative opened the back, Valerie was on him. She knocked him out, stole his gun, and bolted.

Apparently, Phantom wasn’t so useless without his powers either. By some miracle, he managed to find a way to remove his inhibitor collar and take flight.

But that was when all hell broke loose. Right as he’d paused to free Valerie from her inhibitors, someone landed a shot on him.

And he fell.

Valerie didn’t have time to think. She just grabbed his body, activated her hoverboard, and flew, not sure where she was going but unwilling to stop until she was sure she’d lost the agents. 

“Fuck.” She threw off her helmet and looked down at Phantom’s unconscious form. There was a hole in the stomach of his suit, and ectoplasm bubbled and sparkled in the harsh sun.

He was going to die, Valerie realized. What happened when a ghost died? Could they even die? 

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

She shoved a hand in her belt for her emergency supplies, but her glove was too slippery, and her hand trembled too much. She couldn’t do this. She ripped off her glove and tried again, trying to ignore the way the ectoplasm trickled between her fingers.

She had a bit of gauze, a tube of instant clot powder, a few butterfly clips, and a few large bandages. It wasn’t much, but it would have to work.

Because the alternative…

She set the supplies down and turned back to the unconscious ghost. His glow was almost nonexistent, and for the first time she could see his face clearly. All the grooves of skin, his pores, the individual hairs on his eyelashes and eyebrows. He had freckles. That tiny, human detail Valerie would have thought impossible for a ghost. 

Even the more humanoid ghosts always had some slight haze to them, something that just made them more like a realistic doll than a person. But not Phantom. If it weren’t for the white hair and ectoplasm, she would have thought him to be just a regular teenager.

“Stay with me.” 

She needed to take his jumpsuit off. Could she even do that? Was it attached to him? Would taking it off just hurt him more?

For a moment, Valerie knelt there frozen, unsure of what to do. She felt lightheaded, dizzy, nauseous. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of burnt battery acid and lime, and she could only stare as the Phantom’s face slowly grew paler and paler.

She pinched herself. “Snap out of it.” She’d dealt with worse, this was just a ghost. A ghost that she didn’t even like. A ghost that she’d spent the last two years chasing out of Amity Park.

She could do this.

Grabbing her swiss army knife out of her belt, she began carefully slicing through the fabric. Her damp hands were immediately filled with green goo, and for a moment she panicked, thinking that her fears were correct and that the jumpsuit acted like a second skin for Phantom.

But then she saw a black t-shirt peeking out underneath the jumpsuit, and she realized with a shaky breath of relief that the suit simply melted if it wasn’t attached to the host.

Of course, that made sense. She’d seen Plasmius rip off his cape before and it had dissolved in thin air. How could she have forgotten?

She made quick work with removing the jumpsuit, and had started on the undershirt as well when Phantom groaned.

She froze, unable to move the slightest muscle, as she watched Phantom’s drunk green eyes slowly flutter to life. 

“Don’...” he slurred.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “You’re hurt, I’m sorry.”

She tried to resume cutting his shirt, but he lazily swatted her hand away. “Don’...”

“Phantom, stop. I need to get this off you.”

“Stop...”

“I gotta do this,” she said, tearing his t-shirt. “It’s just a shirt.”

“S’ugly,” he mumbled, his eyes rolling back. His head lolled to the side, and he was out again.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be—” 

Her voice cut off, and she sucked in a breath. Tattooed on Phantom’s skin were glowing lightning figures that branched from his shoulder, snaking around his chest and stomach as if they were alive.

Valerie had never seen anything like it before, and she could have dismissed them as just ectoplasmic tattoos. But from Phantom’s reaction, she had a sneaking suspicion that these were something much more serious. Much more personal.

Something that she didn’t have time to think about right now. Something that was getting covered by ectoplasm, something that was losing its bleak glow as the aura around Phantom faded to nothing.

Time was up. She needed to act now.

Ripping off the packaging, Valerie got to work.

---

The sky was clear, glittering with thousands of stars. It was one of those rare nights where the milky way was visible, arcing the sky with its brilliance. 

Valerie had never been one to care about nature. Growing up rich in the city, her focus was always materialistic. She just wanted to fit in with the other girls, so she’d been more than willing to follow along with their hobbies and model her life after their trends.

Nature? Space? Stars? She never gave them a second thought.

Until her life was turned upside down, that was. Suddenly, Valerie went from hardly spending time outside to now soaring through the sky every night, weather be damned. It didn’t take long for her to appreciate the beauty of a clear, warm, night sky.

She landed on top of a building and collapsed her hoverboard. It had been quiet thus far, with only a few ambient blob ghosts roaming around a warehouse. Although at the beginning of her ghost hunting career, Valerie had spent each night painstakingly capturing every ghost in sight, she’d grown since then. She wasn’t so angry, so vengeful now.

And aside from being completely harmless, even Valerie had to admit there was something almost cute about the tiny bulbs of ecto energy.

Her suit dinged, signaling a ghost nearby, and Valerie groaned. There really was no rest for the weary, it seemed.

She raised her radar watch to her eyes to see a familiar ecto signature reading pop up in the corner.

One that was heading towards her.

Shit.

She hadn’t seen Phantom since that day. He’d been avoiding her. And maybe a few months ago she wanted him to avoid her, but now...

That day had changed her.

It was terrifying the way the government had so easily lumped her in with the ghosts just because they detected ectoplasmic readings from her suit. She woke up not knowing where she was, where she was going, if she’d ever see her father again.

Part of Valerie had insisted that once they saw her without her helmet, they’d call her dad and drive her back. It would have all been a big misunderstanding.

But a different part of her, one deep down inside, knew she was just lying to herself.

The government operated the way she did when she first started ghost hunting. All black and white, no room for grey. Ghost were evil and all ectoplasm needed to be destroyed. Period.

After she patched Phantom up in that grassy field, she flew and flew until she stumbled across a nearby town. She hid Phantom in a warehouse and sat with him for hours, forcing herself to stay away and stand guard in case the GiW found them. 

He didn’t wake up until the next morning, taking one look between Valerie and his exposed torso before panic struck his features and he simply disappeared. Before Valerie could gather her wits to hunt his ungrateful ass down and kill him again, he reappeared, suit intact, and began leading their way back to Amity on instinct alone.

Phantom refused to look her in the eye for the entire trip home. And when they finally got to Valerie’s apartment, left her with a “get some sleep” before disappearing once again.

Her watch buzzed lightly against her skin, signaling that he was close. Valerie leaned back, waiting. Seeing if he’d actually come to her, or if he’d bail and pull the vanishing act he was so famous for.

But then he appeared. Right in front of her. His glow was vibrant against the night sky, covering his body in a shimmery aura. His acidic green eyes glistened in the dark.

He really looked no worse for wear after his injury. That kind of hit would have landed Valerie in the hospital. And yet, Phantom was back the next day, full of bright smiles and puns for the people of Amity.

She wondered how often this kind of thing happened to him. Just how many times had he been nearly slaughtered only to pop back into the public eye pretending like nothing happened?

He gave her an awkward wave. “Hey, Red.” 

“Phantom.” She greeted cooly.

Just because lately she’d been seeing Phantom as someone who didn’t have an inherently evil Obsession didn’t mean that she liked him. At best, he was cocky, arrogant. At worst, he’d dumped her back at her apartment and left her by herself after the complete shit show that was their kidnapping.

So yeah, maybe she was a little bitter. Sue her.

“Uh, do you mind if I…” He gestured to the roof.

She pretended to mull his proposition over, watching as his ghostly tail flickered in anxiety.

He was ready to bolt, and she didn’t blame him. They’d never really talked before.

“Do what you want. I don’t feel like fighting tonight,” she finally conceded.

Relief spread across Phantom’s features, and Valerie was once again reminded of how human he was. She once thought that ghosts couldn’t feel any emotions. While it was doubtless that the way they experienced emotions was different than how humans did, there was just no way that Phantom was able to nail all those tiny details so accurately. Even if he was one of the more powerful ghosts out there, it would have been near impossible to mimic the full range of human emotion so quickly and precisely.

He settled down next to her, his tail morphing into legs positioned criss-crossed against the concrete. He turned to her, rubbing the back of his neck.

Valerie said nothing, just allowing the blanket of awkwardness to settle over the pair. If he wanted to say something, he could say it. Valerie wasn’t going to hand-hold him through a conversation.

When the tension was reaching the point of unbearable, Phantom finally broke the silence. “It’s a nice night.”

“Sure is.”

“I haven’t—uh, seen any ghosts. Tonight, I mean. Like outside. Or inside, too. Uh...it’s a quiet night. Ghost free. Well, except for me, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

He ran a gloved hand through his white hair. “Not that I’m really complaining. It’s kinda nice to have a break for a change.”

Valerie grunted in agreement, even though she was sure Phantom was lying through his teeth. Ghosts lived for their Obsessions, and Phantom was no different. She knew that deep down, he reveled in ghost hunting even more than any human ever could.

The duo was lapsed back into another tense silence, one that Valerie didn’t try to break. She didn’t understand what his goal was with the petty chatter. Did he think they were suddenly friends now? After he discarded her back at her apartment like she was a used rag and disappeared without a hint of remorse?

After she carried him hundreds of miles away from the Guys in White compound, bandaged his wounds, and then stayed up all night just to make sure he was safe?

She could have left him there. She could have been home before her father had woken up the next morning in a panic because his daughter was nowhere to be found. She could have avoided the phone call to the police, the missing child report, the whole mess that had followed.

And he couldn’t have even been bothered to say thank you afterward. Just dumped her and left.

So if he thought she was going to help him out now, he had another thing coming.

“How have...um, how have you been? Since…”

“Fine.” She said. “My dad’s been better.”

He winced. “Yeah…”

“Not that you care.”

He jolted up, turning around to face her. “What?”

“You know what I’m talking about, spook.”

“I thought we were over the whole ‘spook’ thing,” he said, his face twisting in annoyance.

“And I thought you were over being an inconsiderate jerk. But I guess I was wrong.”

“Listen, Val—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Okay, Red. Listen, I’m sorry. Okay? I got freaked out that you—you saw…” He let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry you got caught up in my problems, I’m sorry they thought you were a ghost, and I just...yeah.”

Valerie sat there for a moment, glaring out at the night’s sky. “It was a big mess, you know.”

“I know.”

“The police were involved and everything.”

“I heard.”

“And you know the worst part? I couldn’t even tell them the truth.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I got kidnapped by my own government and I couldn’t even tell my dad. I had to lie and say I got lost while out on a nature hike. How stupid is that? I nearly got killed by the freaking government and I haven’t been able to say a damn thing to anyone.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet.

“Yeah, well…” Valerie swallowed the lump in her throat. “You know. Hazard of the job, I guess. Still would have been nice if you hadn’t just left on me. After everything.”

Phantom lowered his head, allowing the white strands of hair to cover his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was a dick move.”

“It was.”

“I just wanna know why.”

He looked up, startled. “Why? Why you were captured, or—”

“Why the silent treatment? Was it because I saw those glowing lightning tattoos under your jumpsuit?”

He flinched back as if he’d been struck, his body lifting to hover over the cement. He stared at her open mouthed, as if he didn’t think she’d even dare to mention it.

But Valerie couldn’t find it in her to be joyous at his hurt expression. “Seriously? You were mad about that? Like I care about what you put on your body.”

“No, no.” Despite looking like he wanted to take flight, he managed to lower himself back onto the roof. “No, they’re...it’s complicated.” 

“Oh, wonderful,” she said sardonically. “So let me get this straight, ghost boy. I save your ass from the government, pull an all-nighter guarding your lifeless body in a warehouse, and the best you can give me is an it’s complicated? Thanks a lot. It really makes me feel better.”

“No, it’s…” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyebrows were pinched and he looked almost sick. When he finally spoke, his voice was small. “They’re not tattoos.”

“Oh? What, an unlucky birthmark?”

He didn’t respond.

Valerie turned to him, realization hitting her with full force. Unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, she said, “Really? That’s it?”

He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. His eyes were distant, far away. Lost in some other world.

He’d been electrocuted. Struck to death by lightning, or something similar. And now it was branded on him, as some twisted reminder of the ugly creature that extended its spindly claws and ripped his humanity from his body.

“Damn.” Valerie blew out a breath. “Of all the ways to go, huh?”

“I—Yeah…”

She couldn’t help herself. “Do all ghosts have one?”

“No.”

Valerie didn’t know if that made it better or worse. Questions swirled through her brain, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t know much about ghost culture, but she was fairly certain that there was a taboo against asking ghosts about their deaths.

So she stayed silent, pretending to focus back on the stars but stealing glances to the teenage ghost beside her. His brows had furrowed, as if he were having an internal war. Whatever it was, Valerie didn’t pry. Even if her curiosity burned brighter with each passing moment.

Finally, he sighed, dropping his forehead into his knees. “It’s fine,” he said, though his voice sounded anything but. “You can ask.”

She hesitated for a brief moment before relenting. “Why do you have a mark?”

“They’re called Lichtenberg figures,” he explained. “They just happen. If the shock is bad enough. But they, uh, are supposed to fade in a few days. You know, if you’re...human.”

“But yours didn’t.”

“No, mine didn’t.” He raised his head, opening his mouth slightly, before slamming it shut.

This was unmarked territory she was stepping into. Hell, she doubted even the Fentons had ever talked to a ghost about their death before.

“Do you remember it?” she tried.

“Yeah.” 

That surprised her. She’d read some of the Fenton’s papers, and even they were uncertain of how much a ghost remembered about their death. 

The question must have shown on her face because Phantom added, “Not everyone does. I think...I think it has to do on their power level. And, uh, how old they are. I think some of the more ancient ghosts just kinda...forget. But I don’t know much. We don’t really talk about it.”

“Oh.”

Phantom nodded, staring down at his gloves. He sighed, and then started pulling one of them off.

Valerie froze, her eyes locking onto the movement. She’d never seen Phantom remove them before, and frankly she wasn’t even sure if they could be removed.

The glove left his skin and dissolved into ectoplasm, splashing onto the concrete roof. And there, left on his otherworldly skin, were the cobwebs of the lightning scar that covered his torso. It was brighter, glowing with more precision than Valerie remembered from before. 

He pushed his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing more of the Lichtenberg figure. It traveled up his wrist, spiraling throughout his arm before it disappeared into his suit. The branches were thin, glowing with the same ectoplasmic energy that ran through the ghost’s core.

Valerie didn’t know what to say. Here Phantom was, her biggest rival in Amity Park, revealing his creation, the moment that turned him into what he was today.

“It was an accident.” He finally spoke. “I was being stupid, I don’t know. My friends and I were fooling around with this...this machinery, I guess, that we knew we weren’t supposed to be near. I grabbed a malfunctioning piece of equipment—I didn’t realize it was plugged in—and that...was it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” Phantom pushed his sleeve back down. He closed his eyes, willing the glove to  materialize back onto his hand. He looked at her and offered a feeble smirk. “Teenagers, am I right?”

Valerie forced a polite smile in return, hoping it didn’t look too pained. 

He cleared his throat. “But, you know,” he said, allowing some of that familiar cocky energy back into his voice. “It’s in the past now. I’m over it.”

Valerie doubted that much. After all, he was still a ghost.

“I mean, I get to do really cool things now. Like helping people. Protecting the town. You can’t exactly do that as a human.” He froze, his eyes flickering to her. “I mean, aside from you. You’re great at it!”

Valerie flipped him off. “Whatever, ghost boy.”

“No, I’m serious! You’re really good as a ghost hunter.”

“I know I’m good! I don’t need your flattery to give me self-esteem.” Her voice sobered. “But really, Phantom. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He frowned, and looked up at the sky. The brilliance of the stars reflected on his form, giving his body an almost ethereal presence. 

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #phic phight #my writing #birthmark

[miraculouscontent]

Hi, Adrien is handed things on a silver platter whereas Marinette has to work for them.

First thing’s first is just the concept of the love square. Chat Noir gets to interact with Ladybug no matter what because they’re heroes. Ladybug - who carries the weight and responsibility of heroism without getting benefited from it - is required to go to every battle due to her purification ability, and Chat Noir of course is going to show up because he loves both flirting with Ladybug and the freedom of being a superhero.

In addition, Adrien got his miraculous by helping Master Fu up (something that would be expected out of any semi-decent person; by the way, yes, I know the “””significance””” of the action, and it’s silly), whereas Marinette saved him from being hit by a car.

Adrien was allowed back in school with still no explanation from Gabriel (especially since he’s Hawk Moth) as to why he thought it was a good idea to send his son to a school where the very first akumatization had happened. It was Adrien’s goal for the episode alongside making friends, and Nino offered him friendship out of pity when Adrien sulked about how Chloe was the closest thing to a friend he had.

Chat crushes on Ladybug because she stood up to Hawk Moth in a speech dripping with confidence, caught what seemed like hundreds of akuma, and came up with a plan quick enough to save Mylene and Ivan from falling to their deaths from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Marinette (who Chat fell in love with one side of first, mind you, so already this is to his benefit), meanwhile, crushes on Adrien because the narrative gave her a falsehood about him never having any friends (i.e: no Chloe) and he gave her an umbrella while he was ten meters away from his actual ride (like with Fu, again, any decent person--).

Chat’s crush on Ladybug makes things harder for her because it causes him to throw tantrums mid-battle, get distracted and distract her because he’s busy flirting, all of which make her feel guilty for not returning his feelings. Marinette’s crush on Adrien makes things hard for her again because it causes her to embarrass herself while virtually everyone who knows teases/mocks her for it, their opinions of her even being dragged down due to the crush (see Alya with the Lila situation).

Chat is shipped with Ladybug by Parisians everywhere and Alya delighted in taking a picture of them kissing (that got posted on the Ladyblog without Ladybug’s consent). Likewise, the other LadyNoir kiss (that Ladybug had to do to free Chat from Dark Cupid’s control) was shown on live TV for all watching to see. Marinette’s kisses with Adrien, however, were either wiped from the timeline (in which Adrien got to keep a secret from her so he could date “””Ladybug”””) or used to humiliate her because Adrien was attempting a prank.

Ladybug realizes that Chat is in serious about her, not because he told her himself, but because he relayed it to Marinette who happened to be Ladybug. Marinette, on the other hand, has spent 3+ seasons attempting to confess her feelings to Adrien or make advances on him, all of which ended in some form of failure and some of which through no fault of her own.

Chloe shoved her in “Bubbler” (Adrien didn’t even check on her) and then Nathalie crushed the note she’d written on a scarf that Marinette put tons of time and effort into, leading to Adrien thinking it was from his dad.

“Copycat” was accidental and came on too strong, requiring its deletion.

She got distracted by Alya and forgot to write her name in “Dark Cupid,” her letter only further solidifying Chat’s crush on Ladybug.

She kept getting interrupted in “Gamer” after Alya chided her for using the event to get with Adrien (despite Alya doing the same thing for Marinette during the film in “Horrificator” while Mylene was MIA).

She wasn’t able to tell Adrien about Lila’s thievery in “Volpina” because the grimoire had to remain a secret.

The hat in “A Christmas Special” got given away within minutes and then not even brought back on-screen by Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien never even thanked Marinette personally for it).

Kagami came out of nowhere to take the fencing spot in “Riposte.”

Deciding not to make schemes only led to her embarrassment in “Gigantitan.”

She got made fun of and the notes all conveniently looked the same in “Backwarder,” leading to her mixing them up.

The macaron for Adrien (that Marinette would prepare every week) never got eaten by him and ended up causing the akuma after Chloe had emotionally manipulated Marinette into scheming with her.

Practicing on a statue (as per Tikki’s advice) in “The Puppeteer 2″ humiliated her when Adrien revealed himself as the statue.

She was embarrassed during the party in “Party Crasher” because she was pressured into dancing without her consent.

The timeline had to be reset in “Chat Blanc” and she had to lie to her friends that she hadn’t given Adrien the gift even though she’d actually succeeded, while the hat she made just for Adrien got written off as a gift from a random fan (which is an even worse fate than the scarf).

The confession in “Felix” was deleted by Felix himself before Adrien could see it.

And Adrien, meanwhile? Ohhhh boy, lemme tell you about Adrien.

He gets put into suggestive/close positions with Ladybug on many, many occasions, all for “free.”

He got a kiss from Ladybug in “Dark Cupid” that, remember, got photographed and put on live TV.

He got to goad the audience without consequence about he and Ladybug potentially being in a relationship eventually - gaining the knowledge that all of Paris was invested in LadyNoir to thoroughly stroke his ego - and then Ladybug had to act like they were a couple in “Prime Queen” to the point of holding Chat’s hand and saying that they were in love.

Likewise, “Glaciator” featured Ladybug having to act like a couple with him again, now to the point of kissing his cheek, and then Chat got a blush from her after he’d spent a good chunk of the akuma battle pouting that Ladybug didn’t come to the date he set up (that she hadn’t even known was a date because he purposefully withheld that information) despite her telling him that she’d have to see about it because she had plans.

He was reassured in “Anansi” on being “irreplaceable” after he made an unnecessary comment about being replaced by a turtle (Carapace).

He got to carry Ladybug around bridal style and also save her in “Sandboy” and “Reverser” respectively because she was rendered essentially useless without him, then got to save her again in “Frozer” after giving her the cold shoulder for rejecting his feelings.

He’s the one who got told by Marinette’s own parent not to apologize for how he feels in “Weredad” (note that Marinette herself never got this talk from Sabine, nor Tom, which very much could’ve prevented “Crocoduel”).

He got a cheek kiss from Ladybug in “Desperada” after getting to undo the very-much-against-the-rules identity reveal he made to her via Second Chance.

He got to look good in “Gamer 2.0″ when Ladybug was seeking advice from him despite the fact that her and Chat’s situations hero-wise are absolutely, completely, 100% different and he didn’t even try to take that into account.

He got Ladybug resting her head on his shoulder because of what she saw in a deleted time in which he - unbeknownst to her - lied by omission.

A fake Ladybug tried to kiss him on two separate occasions, “The Puppeteer 2″ and “Ladybug,” much to his delight (something to note is that the fake Adrien who went after Ladybug in both “Chameleon” and “Felix” tried to force themselves on her).

He got the “jealousy” moment from Ladybug in “Heart Hunter” and then a hug from Aquabug in “Miracle Queen.”

He received no repercussions for taking Ladybug out on a date (that she wasn’t aware was going to be a date) in “Gang of Secrets,” at best having to apologize for her behavior to the people around them.

He got reassured that Ladybug “couldn’t do this without him” in “Guiltrip,” even to the point of being told that she “probably doesn’t tell him enough.”

He got told by Ladybug that she would never abandon him in “Hack-San” because he was guilting her sulking about how his not knowing her identity would mean that he’d never see her again if she left him somehow.

And before you think this only extends to the romantic aspects of love square, let me tell you now that it definitely doesn’t.

Marinette entered the bowler hat competition and had to defend her own work to the judge.

She ran for class representative and had to earn the trust and faith of her class in “Darkblade” when put up against Chloe’s bribery.

She did whatever she could to make sure Juleka got her picture taken in “Reflekta.”

She had to actually craft a pair of glasses suitable for Jagged Stone in “Pixelator” and then make a gorgeous album cover for him in “Guitar Villain.” (note that this partially led to “Troublemaker” where she was just happily wanting to advertise her parents’ business, and the writers multiplied her Adrien pictures for the sake humiliating her when it was caught on live TV)

She had to work to get ungrounded by improving her attendance in “Simon Says,” because she had been busy being a hero.

She worked to try and get Nathaniel and Marc to get together on a project, knowing it would be good for both of them.

She set up an entire celebration for her bully to try and make said bully feel good about herself in “Malediktator.”

She did Kitty Section’s designs and costumes in “Silencer” and then had to go protect them from being stolen, along with her friends’ music.

She had to wear multiple miraculouses in “Kwamibuster” in order to go against Kwamibuster and get back both the ladybug earrings and the cat ring.

“Gamer 2.0.” Just... “Gamer 2.0.″

She made a whole complex lockbox to protect the Miracle Box in “Gang of Secrets.”

She worked to reach out to Zoe in “Sole Crusher” even after Zoe trashed her in front of the school, going as far as to try and comfort Zoe’s akumatized form.

She had to stand up for the movie to be fixed in “Queen Banana” because no one else would.

She has to work each and every akuma battle as Ladybug, figuring out Lucky Charms that can range from simple to complicated, while simultaneously dealing with a partner who relies heavily on her plans and will occasionally make things harder by either throwing tantrums mid-battle or distracting her.

And meanwhile...

Chat Noir got to throw the blame onto Ladybug for Theo’s akumatization in “Copycat.”

Marinette covered for him in “The Collector” when he was the one who recklessly lost the grimoire by not being careful with it.

He got handed Fu’s identity in “Syren” after whining to Ladybug, throwing blame on her and trying to bribe Plagg so they’d tell him, threatening to quit while Paris was underwater, and all of this while Marinette herself only got to meet Fu because she had the grimoire on her.

He was given the moral high ground in “Malediktator” despite not having to actually care about Chloe enough to call/check on her.

He got to sit back in “Chameleon” and not concern himself with judgment or comment on the situation with Lila, even going into “Ladybug” where he continues to inform no one about Lila (including Marinette, who briefly believed that Lila came to her senses and was willing to make amends) after Lila got Marinette expelled, despite the complete lack of risk on his part considering who his father is and how harshly Lila would be dragged through the mud if she dared to trash his reputation.

He clumsily trips in “Captain Hardrock” in a fashion that reveals an instrument he happens to play, leading to him getting invited to join Kitty Section within seconds of being on the Liberty. (so when Adrien is clumsy, it’s to his benefit, and when Marinette is clumsy, it’s to her detriment)

He never got called out for distracting Ladybug and digging for details that could relate to her identity in “Kwamibuster” (which, again, forced Marinette to do all the work to fix things).

He got a party thrown for him in “Party Crasher” by Nino, and also guys that Adrien had never put forth effort into interacting with or befriending (Marinette had also been through more with all of them sans Nino).

He got to force Ladybug’s favorite traits of his out of her in “Truth” because she was under the influence of Truth’s powers.

He got off the hook for sacrificing himself in “Lies” by flirting about Ladybug’s “irresistible angry little pout,” and also never got repercussions for flirting with another girl while dating Kagami.

He never had to face consequences for smashing a chimney in “Sentibubbler,” even as he was dismissing the gesture because he knew Miraculous Ladybug would fix it.

He didn’t have to apologize for his behavior in “Hack-San,” whereas Ladybug "had to” for telling someone else her identity (the details of why - i.e: that she was having a mental breakdown and needed a release from it - being completely left out) and not telling him that she was leaving (when she literally hadn’t had time to tell him anything; do note as well that Adrien didn’t have to do the same in either “Backwarder” or “Startrain”).

He received no consequences and was in fact rewarded for allowing the akuma in “Wishmaker” to hit him, a choice that Viperion has to live with because it caused him to see both Ladybug and Chat’s identities (meaning now Luka - someone who, like the guys in “Party Crasher” - Adrien has done virtually nothing for - can support Adrien since he knows).

And I could go on, I really could, but my point is that Adrien is given all of the sympathy and sad points while Marinette basically never is. Just like how he was born swimming in money, fame, and adoring fans, the show hands out praises and all the things he’s ever wanted because he’s sad.

He doesn’t have to try. He can whine and complain and vent to Plagg about how “replaceable” he is because the show will mollycoddle him to the moon and back. They’ll put his crush on Ladybug’s shoulders to make her feel guilty while Marinette is over here having to bust her butt just for a chance at Adrien recognizing any semblance of her feelings, and he goes on being blissfully ignorant of them so he doesn’t have to suffer like Ladybug does.

In addition, Marinette has to either be “““making mistakes”““ or embarrassing herself in order to get screen time because the burden of lessons fails upon her, whereas Adrien can be name-dropped without even doing anything.

It’s not just the love square that’s unbalanced, it’s everything between these two. Ladybug is scolded and punished for the slightest act of selfishness while Adrien is encouraged and rewarded for being selfish and demanding things. Marinette has to work to be noticed (and sometimes won’t even get that much) while all Adrien has to do is put on his best sad face and the show will bend over backwards to either give him exactly what he wants or make him the sympathetic one through the narrative.

Even if Adrien had known about Marinette’s crush at the time that Ladybug knew about Chat’s, it wouldn’t matter, because the tipped scales in how they’re treated would still make it so Marinette is the one at fault for “dumping her feelings onto Adrien” while Ladybug is still forced to interact with Chat even if his advances make her uncomfortable.

#((It's a good day to choose violence.)) #category: salt #salt: adrien agreste #salt: chat noir #salt: love square #((I probably should've done this in video format.))